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vermillioncrown · 3 years

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thoughts on reverse transmigration with dbd characters?

many thoughts.

usually the love interest is reverse-transmigrated so... who?

what age are you bringing these people over?

is zyx going back to their modern first life? or do they know zyx but this life's zyx doesn't know them?

is this crack or is this semi-serious?

are they coming full-on 'i got lost from dragon con' or 'i'm a classmate that woke up with a whole 'nother life that i just remembered'?

if there is any iteration that modern-day zyx has to house more than one motherfucker. ANon. my guy. good, dear anon

why? zyx (i) is a poor grad student, floating above poverty line but one incident away from eating shit at all times. zyx (i) could ask their parents to help but what the fuck no they'd kill me

how do you even begin explaining anything

modern-day zyx (okay it's fucking me) i am beholden to so many people, that if even one fucking dude shows up i will have to explain myself to a minimum of eight people within three hours of the transmigrator making contact.

there's no room in my apartment. even pre-quarantine, it's a tight 3.5 people (3 + cat + friend who really really liked roommate #2 and basically lived w us) and only 1.5 bathrooms.

i'm gonna have to feed them. i love feeding people but on my terms and on my schedule only

the main inside joke of that time, between my friends, was '____ okay, then; pay rent'. how are they gonna pay rent???

if you're making zyx transfer back to their life after going through even a bit of their second life, congrats that's it you broke 'em. no longer a functional being.

(y'know, i always held a morbid curiosity of what happens after to the teens that become heroes; when they finish the hero's journey and need to come back to society. it must feel like living in a parallel dimension, like a ghost.)

also you're bringing the new love interest transmigrator along. into a place where i already have emotional ties, a partner, and a life we're building. like those romcom films where old quirky love interest breaks up long-time couple, it sucks for the collateral.

transmigrator lover-boy/girl, even if zyx has gotten as far as getting together with them in xianxia hell, if zyx wants to keep their mind intact: no more love.

the only way this won't be painful is if dbd zyx doesn't come over, but transmigrator does. they need to find the zyx equivalent and survive/whatever quest for a duration before they can return.

upon meeting zyx irl, zyx receives untraceable bank transfers that cover boarding this mf. they need to convince zyx (and her bf, and her roommates, and her friends, and her cat) to let them stay.

(dude, what the hell i'm fucking almost 30 i don't want to deal with no fucking teenybopper i got shit to do)

(i cannot imagine a dbd character around my age transmigrating that's happy, unless it's post-dbd if dbd isn't too bittersweet; thus i keep imagining teen/young adult transmigrator(s))

(or dbd zyx co-piloting modern zyx body to help, and will eventually leave)

OH FUCK THE LANGUAGE BARRIER

bro. 我的普通话很普通 okay??? even worse than that.

we'd be google translating shit this whole fucking time

is this a reverse-transmigration where mdzs will exist for them to see? that's ultra-messy. vetoed.

pre-quarantine i was at the lab for most of the day... and still taking classes. they can't tag along for work bc it's personnel-controlled based on clearance, and i can't protect them from being called on in a grad-level lecture. where do i put them??? Do they play video games at home?

do i have to work from home earlier than 2020?

you know, the easiest person to put up with is mianmian. and/or wen qing.

they'll really cut into my gym time

(in a very far-off extra post-possible-wangxian-ot3, this is a temporary scenario via the dream incense.

you know how the first incense extra was about lwj opening up to wwx, humanizing him, assuaging his deepest desires/worst fears?)

Her nose wrinkles and expression turns disdainful, as it always does when something was perceived odious. The scent?

Wei Ying discreetly sniffs the incense burner. Perhaps due to it not being the customary sandalwood they both have grown used to, within the Jingshi?

Zhu Lin is oddly sensitive to things as such.

"Unfortunately, this one has some records to peruse," she said, grabbing Lan Zhan's zhongyi and waiyi to quickly cover up and head towards the library. No one would bother stopping either of Hanguang-Jun's special guests. "Enjoy the night," she adds, fingers dance across Wei Ying's jaw, an appreciative stare over Lan Zhan's form and a small uptick of the mouth, before leaving.

Still so modest, Wei Ying smiles and briefly holds where she touched, who could have imagined? He turns his attention from the door to Lan Zhan, whose eyes' gleam intensify with the light of the rising moon. Wei Ying sets the incense burner down and saunters over to his half-dressed lover, letting his red hair ribbon fall like a caress down his body.

Despite their third being absent, it does not preclude the remaining pair from activities.

When they wake, it is to discover that they fell asleep between further disrobing and settling on the bed while kissing. There is nothing to lament - both Wei Ying and Lan Zhan were thoroughly undone within their shared dream, satisfied in all ways. It is a first that both he and Lan Zhan awaken at the same time - at the hour of compromise between their usual habits.

Lan Zhan's eyes blink, and Wei Ying can see his mind rubbed raw and tender. He grabs his hands with reassurance, and Lan Zhan slowly tightens the grip in security and affection.

Zhu Lin is still reading her records in the library, annotating in another notebook simultaneously. She makes a noise of acknowledgment when Wei Ying announces that a late breakfast (or early lunch) will be in the Jingshi.

"Almost done," she mumbles, her speech turning casual in midst of concentration, "I will likely take a nap after. In a bit, A-Ying."

"Don't let it get cold, okay?"

"Mhhm." A glare at the book. "Fuckin - ..." her mumbles become incomprehensible.

Both he and Lan Zhan have appointments, and it is not until the sun is halfway to the horizon that they have an opportunity to check on Zhu Lin in the Jingshi.

She lays not on the bed, but on the floor in front of the table and curled under the borrowed robes of last night. Lunch has been picked clean. Lan Zhan hurries to their third's side, driven by the sight and the immensity of his sentiment.

"Ah, don't move her - you know she's comfortable there," Wei Ying laughs. He settles down next to her form, legs stretching out.

Lan Zhan sighs and pulls the thickest layer higher on Zhu Lin's shoulder. "I know." And then he freezes while looking around the room. "The incense burner -"

It was still burning. Rather, likely the disciple delivering their meal saw the incense reached its end, and decided to replace it.

What an opportunity! Wei Ying catches Lan Zhan's eyes, and their thoughts are as one, as always.

Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan before anything else. There is nothing else to see.

"As Zhu Lin has said, many years ago, 'those who tell tales usually have no actions to speak for them'," he starts with relish.

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan admonishes without true reproach.

"Passion hides within the admired but secretive Zhu-gongzi," Wei Ying continues, "like my Lan-er-gege. Shall we wager to what depths?"

Lan Zhan does not respond, but Wei Ying can feel the heat radiating from him. His earlobes have flushed as though they were plucked until bruised. "She..."

The dreamscape materializes in front of them.

It... is an alien one. Gray, smooth expanse - stone-like yet shaped unlike stone. It paves the surrounding land. Neat buildings of wood and translucent glass sit before them, imposing in their regularity. Beyond that, the dreamscape is unformed.

No one is around, but it was the same with Wei Ying's dreams - until they found their counterparts.

A single door opens.

Lan Zhan turns a glance at him, and Wei Ying answers the silent question by following barely a step behind.

The inside of the building is no less puzzling. Dim from the curtains, but not derelict. Compact, packed, and Wei Ying can start to guess at the furnishings. Some of them, he amends, seeing an obsidian-black slab that reflects a warped image of the two in the entranceway.

"A dwelling," Lan Zhan says. "A residence."

"We barely saw Shuangfeng that discussion conference, didn't we?" Wei Ying thinks out loud. "And Zhu Lin has never mentioned her clan's estate."

They both mull it over, and while there is not an answer more probable -

It is a curious place. Still devoid of others as they wander its modest space. A room takes on an odd violet glow, and when they peek inside it is a room of porcelain and small potted plants.

A mirror, polished crystal and glass, shows their wide-eyed stares directed right back.

It starts to become unsettling. There is another landing in this dwelling, and they walk up the floors with woolen texture, hearing wood creak below. Another violet room, larger and a recessed basin - some sort of washroom, then.

Two doors stand closed on either side of them.

One door is locked, no matter how Wei Ying tries to coax it. The second one gives with a gentle push. It is a personal suite. Shadows dance from the sunlight streaming in.

"It's a bit cramped, isn't it?" Wei Ying comments, looking around.

"Workspace," Lan Zhan points out. "Not unlike Wei Ying's."

It holds truth. The room is packed with shelves along most of the walls, furnished densely. Bits of clothing draped for airing, bursting full wardrobes, and tables seated with strange black chairs that cannot be anything but workspaces. One table holds a plethora of little figurines, the details on them intricate and their coloring done so finely. Another obsidian-like slab on the table. Brushes more fine than the most delicate of calligraphy brushes, small pots of pigment haphazardly arranged.

The second table, which Wei Ying nearly missed but Lan Zhan inspects first, is covered with the same reflective slabs. Small ornaments litter the tiered surface of this table, all variety of implements and tools. The lower tier is stacked with papers precariously, impressive in their snow-white color and sharp, crisp forms. Upon them, there is writing and diagrams so esoteric that Wei Ying cannot begin to guess at their contents.

"... looks familiar, despite -" Lan Zhan picks up one of the papers. "If this residence is Zhu Lin's, then this must be her work."

"So diligent!" He can see the same pattern with how her strokes linger and drag, but the emphasis is on utility and speed. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan - did you pick up more than naughty words from our Zhu Lin?"

"Ridiculous," Lan Zhan responds, but again there is no heat and the earlobes reveal all. He sets the paper back down neatly.

"She's always been like this, then?" Wei Ying laughs fondly.

They turn their attention to the final section of the room. An opaque canopy flutters from the window breeze, shielding whatever is behind it from view.

"Shall you? Or shall I?" Wei Ying drawls, his heart beating with anticipation. Likely, the fun will begin here.

Lan Zhan is no less eager than he, and reaches one hand to sweep aside the curtain.

A woman lies on the bed behind the curtains. Lan Zhan nearly flinches back from the immodest state of dress, and Wei Ying himself has to steady his breathing and hold the apology on his tongue.

Fabric so thin, wrapped around flesh so obscenely, even walking out with one's inner robes would be more polite. He averts his gaze. Short trousers, barely a loincloth at this point, cover this woman's lower half. Healthy in form, well-proportioned, skin the color of diluted honey.

She is alive. She breathes. She is part of the dream.

She is asleep. Her hair - long and unruly, vibrantly colored like everything else in this dreamscape, black blending to a flushed pink like blossoms on a branch - obscures her features. Slim hands, slender fingers tangle in the pink strands like another curtain pulled shut for privacy.

Wei Ying can make out the glint of precious metal on the one exposed ear, and near her mouth.

Through these observations, she continues to sleep, languid and curled like a large tiger.

"You two."

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan turn, the surprise of someone living in this almost-unmoving dream jolting them into awareness.

Zhu Lin stands before them, dressed in Lan Zhan's robes like last night. Wei Ying is about to call out a greeting, but -

Her expression is blank. No warmth, no sly smile. Eyes watchful, posture yielding the pretense of being casual while leaning against the doorframe.

He can feel Lan Zhan tense next to him. Lan Zhan has always been more perceptive of the nuances in Zhu Lin's moods.

"This one must ask you two to step away from that woman."

Because Lan Zhan's hold on his wrist grows taut, Wei Ying does not argue and moves with Lan Zhan.

Given space in the cramped room, Zhu Lin walks over towards the bed. The few steps she takes are measured, restrained, but in a way that Wei Ying cannot help thinking she wants nothing more than to dart over.

She reaches the bed. They cannot see her expression from behind, as she stares down at the woman for a while.

Finally, she pulls the curtains shut.

"... who is she?" Lan Zhan dares to ask in the heavy silence.

"Lan-er-gongzi, is it not obvious?" Zhu Lin turns around. Her face holds the terrible smile she only puts on when forced into a fight she must desperately win.

"That is me."

#zyx au's #mdzyx #RT au #on mrts #on dbd #Anonymous #inquiry #dbd what if #my defining trait is getting stressed about things that aren't even happening #i'm too practical for reverse-transmigration #you can go feed a bunch of teenagers on a shit salary and get back to me on that #if i had to house zhou le i'd be twisting that mf's ear #wait can i claim them as dependents for my tax refund???#enjoy the whatever this is #zyx will have to be dragged kicking and screaming into being known

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