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thespacelizard · 1 year

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@fluffbruary day 13, with more good good blorbo content: Zeth'rinn and Menzova from my Dark Ascendance campaign getting their first kiss at the end of the Fear the Underdark arc!

In which there is a first kiss

The strangers were talking with the angel in the ruined courtyard of the T’sonri estate. Friends now, Menzova would have called them, though still more than passing strange. Probably it was because they’d come from the surface—she imagined that growing up with nothing solid above you did odd things to your mind.

She skirted the edge of one of the smoking craters just outside the estate, kicked a chunk of rubble into it. Devils and angels, squabbling in the mess Lolth had made of her city. Even certain as she was that Eilistraee had a plan for her, it hardly seemed reasonable that such destruction should have been a part of it.

“There you are.”

She turned at the voice, trying to fight the nervous jump in her stomach. “Hi, Zeth’rinn.”

“How’s your head?”

Menzova touched her temple. Elvrae T’sonri’s mind control had not left her with any physical scars, but she carried its marks all the same.

“I’ll be fine. You?”

Zeth’rinn grinned, that cocky, almost-smirk that made her insides flip upside down. He had a nasty bruise on his neck, his armour scratched, his dark eye makeup smudged and smeared—that last was, to Menzova, fairly appealing in a way she didn’t entirely understand. She was glad he wasn’t dead, though.

“It takes more than a mind-controlled, semi-angelic dragonborn and a melodramatic Lolthite to put a Baenre boy down,” Zeth’rinn said. The grin faded, and he glanced away, fiddling with one of the studs in his ear. “Though speaking of Baenre boys…”

“Your father?” Menzova ventured. He nodded.

“I think he wants to have a tiny little chat about things Bregan D’aerthe agents are supposed to do. Or not do, in my case.”

“Tell him it was the Dark Lady’s plan for you to come here,” Menzova said. “Even he can’t argue with her.”

Zeth’rinn laughed. “Jarlaxle would argue with gods, devils, and anything in between if he felt like it—and live to tell the tale.”

From what little Menzova knew of the rogue that called himself Jarlaxle Baenre, that seemed likely.

“But, Valas tells me I’m to return to the surface to talk to him,” Zeth’rinn continued, sighing. “A shame, really, since…ah…since you…” he cleared his throat. “You know you’re very beautiful, right?”

Menzova blinked.

“And I know I’m about to leave, and I should have done this sooner, but can you blame a boy for being a touch distracted by the ongoing spider-apocalypse?”

“Wha—?”

She never got to finish whatever she might have said. Zeth’rinn caught her by the waist, dipped her as though they were dancing, and kissed her square on the mouth. Menzova’s face went hot and her thoughts sort of fizzled out and she grabbed at his shoulders to keep from falling backwards into the crater. She didn’t think even Eilistraee’s blessings would let her survive the embarrassment of falling on her rear in front of perhaps the most exciting boy she’d ever kissed.

When he let her up, she staggered a bit, face still on fire. Zeth’rinn was flushed too, a violet ink stain over the bridge of his nose. He scratched at the shaved side of his head.

“Right. So.” He shifted his weight, settled his hand on the hilt of his sword, very casual—though he was looking more at his boots than at her. “So, yes. That.”

Menzova grabbed the collar of his shirt and hauled him into another kiss. He let out a tiny squeak of surprise before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her back properly. Likely they would have kept going for a good long while, but then someone said, “Zeth’rinn.”

Menzova started and leapt back—Valas Hune, the scout that had brought the strange adventurers, had arrived with his usual sudden silence. His face was impassive, though his eyes flicked from her to Zeth’rinn with mild interest.

“Time to leave,” he said.

“Oh, give me five minutes, would you, Valas?” Zeth’rinn said. Valas crossed his arms.

“Two minutes.”

Zeth’rinn glared at him, but Valas showed no sign of leaving, so he just sighed and turned back to Menzova.

“I have a stone of farspeech,” she said.

“As do I.”

“They don’t work properly in the city—you already know that much—but now that Elvrae’s dead, I can leave. I know how far out to go so the faez’ress stops blocking things.”

“The tunnels are still crawling with what’s left of her army,” Zeth’rinn pointed out. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Planning on carving up swarms of spiders just to talk to me?”

“Maybe. I do know how to fight.”

He grinned, and flicked the collar of her chainmail. “I’m well aware, Lady Knight.” He reached into one of his pouches and drew out a small black stone. “May I?”

Menzova fumbled at her own belt-pouches until she found her stone of farspeech, white to his black, and they touched the two together. The arcane resonances connected with a soft hum—his fingers lingered on hers as he drew his stone away.

“Depending on how much trouble I’m in,” he said, and Valas rolled his eyes, “I’ll try and come back sometime this century. Or you could come—where’s dear old dad posted up these days, Valas?”

“Waterdeep, for the time being.”

“You could come to Waterdeep.”

“There is a Shrine there,” Menzova said. “If we can restore the moon pools, then—”

“That’s two minutes.” Valas put a hand on Zeth’rinn’s shoulder. “Home time, wayward son.”

Zeth’rinn slipped his grasp just long enough to kiss Menzova once more, before Valas grabbed him by the ear and dragged him firmly away, to much pained protesting. Menzova waited until they were out of sight, then span in place with a squeal, the bells tying off her braids tinkling merrily.

Did this mean she had a boyfriend now? A real one? A Bregan D’aerthe one? Imagine, a Darksong Knight entangling herself with one of those Menzoberranyr rogues! It was like something out of the novels she and the other knights-in-training used to hide under their bunks and read when the Knight-Commander wasn’t looking.

She pressed her stone of farspeech to her lips. There was a lot to sort out here, it was going to take a long time to put Mythen Thaelas back together, but when it was…when it was…

Well. She’d always wanted to go to the surface.

#fluffbruary #fluffbruary 2023 #my fic #i am going to blog about my campaign as if its media everyone should be familiar with because i simply Want To #also i think it's funny #dungeons and dragons fanfiction #zeth'rinn's such a dork i love him #he's trying to be so cool but it's very hard to be a Cool Edgy Rebel when everyone knows your dad is Jarlaxle Fucking Baenre

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triflesandparsnips · 2 years

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Sooooo... when I hear “the Dread Pirate Pete,” right, in episode 2 “A Damned Man,” I immediately think “the Dread Pirate Roberts.”

The Princess Bride, classic romance, has a hot pirate type in black who spends a lot of his time being really heartbroken and therefore both trying to save AND be mean to his true love, amazing.

If we play around a bit with, let us say, theatricality and history and general Rule of Cool...

...it would be very simple to have the Man in Black need a lift on the Revenge. Where he has to deal with our two favorite idiots -- recently reconciled and now just having some fun adventures on the sea -- being deeply interested in his whole... vibe.

It would not be too hard to imagine that as the days continue on, and the Man in Black continues to be both handsome and very mysterious, Ed and Stede start to, let us say, compete with one another over who gets more of the stranger's attention and approval. And as such:

Wesley, our Man in Black a.k.a. the Dread Pirate Roberts, is very straight, very seriously heartbroken, and very much has a plan in mind to get back to his lost love and rescue and/or mildly emotionally torture her. So he very very politely ignores all the random bullshit Stede and Ed are throwing his way in an attempt to, as far as he can tell, kindle some fun jealousy in one another as foreplay to overly apologetic but still very possessive wall-sex.

Wesley is really very focused on his whole revenge/rescue thing. He’s not interested in the romantic shenanigans of people objectively happier than himself at the moment. And that-- that may be the real reason, actually, that he gets kind of pointed in his ignorance of the situation, to the degree where everybody else knows that he has to be fucking around with the captains but it’s so entertaining that they don’t dare interrupt.

From Wesley’s point of view, it’s rather as if the time-travelling spirit of Alex Horne has graced himself on Wesley to provide comfort in these troubled times by suggesting, quite mildly, that it would be very funny if Wesley were to just... see how far these two will go. With a little help. Or lack thereof.

Wesley, it should be said, has his own issues.

And it's a long trip to Guilder.

So he adjusts his time on board a little. Instead of staying in his cabin, or staring out at the sea from behind the bowsprit and ignoring everything behind him... he starts sitting out on deck. Maybe sharpening his knives next to Jim. Providing rhyme suggestions to Frenchie. Racing the Swede up the rigging.

But, despite this loosening of his social boundaries, he continues to ignore the captains.

Which is why they, in turn, decide to get serious about this little situation.

It’s like this: Stede and Ed? They’re objectively amazing pirates. Dress awesomely. Incredibly handsome. It’s really only because they concentrate their efforts on one another that the ocean isn’t, like, fucking boiling all the time from the power of their sheer sexual heat.

So it’s a little weird that the Man in Black isn’t basically falling over himself to get near them. It’s probably because, let’s be honest, he’s intimidated by them and their epic fucking love. In fact, the Man in Black, he’s classy, he probably wouldn’t want to get between anybody, is probably really polite about it and no doubt heartbroken because Ed and Stede, man, they are NOT DISCREET when it comes to how often they have to check the carpentry of their cabin walls. So that’s why their mystery hottie isn’t hitting on either of them despite their MULTIPLE charms, right-- because he thinks he doesn’t have a chance.

“...but what if he thought he did,“ they don’t say to one another one night, but the thought is very much there, and it makes their eyes glitter with the same keen competitiveness and also then the walls have to be checked again. Thoroughly.

This begins about a solid week of the weirdest goddamn sex game Wesley has ever accidentally instigated (and that’s including that time with the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, the thirty Helens, and the wild banana plants of southeast Asia). Ed and Stede spend an evening laying out the rules of combat and the win condition of this fight: to wit, whoever is the first to get the Man in Black's Token of Affection -- because the mysterious pirate is clearly in love with them -- is the winner.

(Stede told Ed all about Tokens of Affection ages ago, back when they were still kind of on a break because of the betrayal and murder attempts and stuff. With regard to the Man in Black, they decide it has to be his mask, which he never takes off and so he probably has some kickass scars under there and it’s, like, the second biggest mystery about him after the whole “why isn’t he paying attention to us” thing.)

The biggest hurdle in their negotiations, however, comes right at the end of the night, because-- well. They’ve established that the Man in Black would never get between a couple, he’s too cool for that. But it'd only be a problem if he knew both of them were together, right? So like, if only one of them is definitely fucking someone else, that clears the lane for the other to sweep in and, probably, romance the fuck outta the Man in Black.

(Because they are both Deeply Fuckin Romantic, it's practically unfair that it's wasted on each other.)

After they work this out, Ed dramatically exits the cabin to be a Definitely Single Pirate on watch and Stede dramatically leaves his door open to show that he is also a Definitely Single Pirate who coincidentally is in possession of An Actual Bed.

(The crew, for their part, dramatically go back to sleep because this new fuckery is probably going to last a bit and they better get some shut-eye now before the captains really get started.)

It's just too bad when, the next day, Stede happens to get shoved out onto deck after a vigorous ten minutes up against a wall, looking as if he's been properly but incompletely tossed, and the Man in Black has to therefore assume that Stede is spoken for, whoops, guess he's gonna fall into Ed's manly and available arms any minute now and just take that mask right off.

And Stede is like, goodness, it's too bad then that Ed's neck’s gotten all marked up later that same afternoon, right? So that it looks just like he'd had someone showing all sorts of love and attention to that spot right under his jaw that his beard used to hide, eh, and the Man in Black has apparently noticed and decided to not interfere with Ed's personal and no doubt deeply fulfilling romantic life so it’s only a matter of time before he instead turns his eye toward his last remaining comfort, Stede and his excellent selection of skin creams for faces that have been covered in masks for too long.

...Wesley, for his part, keeps his mask on and, even-voiced and blank faced, makes some polite comment about the choppy seas, making people fall out of doors and bump into corners.

But he does decide, for reasons of his own, to take off his shirt to do his evening sword exercises.

The crew make popcorn and settle down for a long night.

#our flag means death #ofmd #the princess bride #free plot bunnies #if you write it link it #do the thing #the dread pirate roberts #wesley #just get him on board I want to see what happens #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #listen I'm just having a nice time here #and making everyone else suffer through it

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imagination-mess · 3 years

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Alpha's Omega In Heat

*REQUESTED*

This Au takes place in the future, not the past. Enjoy my crappy writing headcanons. :3

Manjiro Sano X Reader,

Ken Ryuguni X Reader

Warning: Fluff and sexual themes applied. Consent is considered SEXY IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!

Manjiro Sano (Mikey)

With your permission, he will cuddle with you in your safe haven nest.

If you guys have talked about it before, that it is okay for Mikey to relieve your sexual desires. He will do a darn good job.

It may make your heat period, a lot easier and quite adventurous.

He will be sure to provide sweets, but don't think he wouldn't eat them. He will eat it and forget to erase the evidence of the wrapper.

He will provide a bunch of his clothes for your nest during this time exchanging them with the ones that no longer hold his scent.

During this time, he already knows when your heat starts and ends due to him being your alpha, along with being together for a long time

It's a requirement for him to learn it to be sure he is available for you during this vulnerable time.

He has it arranged that his gang business is dealt with before or after this time. If it's an emergency, he assures everyone to contact Draken, because he isn't gonna pick up the phone unless it's Emma or Draken.

He wants to stay home with you because there has been an incident of stranger alpha breaking into your guy's home when he had to go out for a bit.

Let's just say the intruder was almost half dead before the police attempted to rip him off the unconscious alpha. He refused to let them go of his grip until he heard your voice. He immediately snapped out of his rage alpha instinct.

Ever since you guys had moved into a more protective secure building and he refused to leave you alone by yourself again.

There were a lot of what-if scenarios coming through his mind that just caused him to be on the edge and anxious about leaving you alone while having your heat.

He complains if you order him around, but he will do it just for you.

If you don't invite him into your nest, expect him to be outside of your room guarding it.

When he is sleeping in your nest, he goes to sleep, shirtless since skin-to-skin contact calms down your heat due to natural instincts between alpha and omega.

He is overprotective alpha, even friends are not allowed to check on them. He will just kick you without any warning of any sort. Takemitchi was the first and last one to experience his possessive side. His instincts cloud his judgment most of the time when it comes to feeling a threat of another alpha being near what is is his.

The reason why Takemitchi was there was to only deliver self-care bags make by the girlfriends of Toman members.

Mikey does apologize for kicking him, but he will do it again if he comes near his apartment when he is not supposed to be bothered.

Ever since only omegas to betas are permitted to come close to his apartment door to leave the bag or whatever they need to drop off during this time.

He may be a clown, but he will protect you from any danger.

If you want to have fun, the fun you will have, just don't complain afterward. He will just smile innocently as if he was an angel. Not a sinner.

He does have strong self-control when it comes to controlling his own desires and instincts. He will respect your rules if you place any and accept them.

Ken Ryugugi (Draken)

This man will be beyond prepared and have your favorite foods ready a week before your heat is supposed to start. He overstocks on your favorite foods because he doesn't want to experience you crying about it and holding it over his head during that week.

He will already have your heat schedule memorized.

He has already changed the clothes of your nest to new ones that have his scent.

He knows how omegas get when they are in heat due to the environment he grew up in. He was more of the servant to them. At least he gets paid in exchange for him going out and getting whatever they wanted. If he does it quickly, the more money he gets.

He also knows the dangers of omega of being in heat. They are vulnerable and alphas who aren't self-trained lack respect for the minority communities such as betas, and omegas.

He was one of the alphas that protected the girls from intruders from coming in among the other alpha staff.

He will be in the house and available for you whenever you need. He will close the bike shop and tell Toman if it's an emergency to contact Mikey or Mitsuya.

He will do whatever you want, if you want cuddles, cuddles you get.

He has already had a conversation about relieving your heat earlier in your relationship. He wants you to be sure you are okay with it. He always checks on you.

He will respect your wishes and does have good solid self-control of his urges.

He will provide you with meals and painkillers like the sweetheart he is.

If you allow him to relieve your sexual desire, he will always start gently unless you would like something else. he will provide it.

Afterward, he will nuzzle his nose against your jaw and drawing random patterns on your bareback. He will surely fall asleep with you in his arms hearing your purs.

He will provide a lot of kisses and praises when you are cuddling and just relaxing in each other's arms.

He is a protective alpha but isn't clouded by his own instincts due to having a good grip on his natural instincts. However, there are times that it does escape his grip. He would give you brief waring only once with baring his teeth and towering your you when you know to leave him alone. This only happens when alphas are coming to his door during this time.

He may not be like Mikey when it comes to being overprotective, but he will knock you out without any hesitation if you try to intimidate him. It feels like mockery. You will be punch without a thought.

Baji was the one who was teasing him once during his adolescence. Let's just say Baji received broken ribs and a black eye for the joke he did.

I would say Draken is more dangerous due to being more aware of his surroundings and having a good grip of his second gender. He would be calculated if he needs to be.

If it's any other second gender, he will be his normal self, because he doesn't take you as a threat. He can have a normal conversation and stuff, but with an alpha. It's just an instinct to protect your omega from other alphas.

He would draw you out a bath using one bath bomb from the girl's self-care packages and provide massages for you.

He will join you if you ask him to in the bathtub.

Just don't tease him, don't test him. Because you will regret it. Draken maybe teddy bear behind closed doors. He does have his own limits. Don't provoke the bear if you can't handle it.

He will be cocky afterward but provides excellent aftercare.

He will make sure, you have drunk plenty of fluid to keep yourself hydrated.

I hope you enjoy these headcanons. <3

I should do masterlist, I wouldn't have ever thought this blog would blow up so quickly.

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

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Title: Albatross.

Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.9k.

TW: Imprisonment, Mentions of Non-Con, Mentions of Death, Manipulation, Mentions of Homelessness and Poverty.

Honestly, you thought you’d die somewhere more domestic.

On the doorstep of an empty cathedral, or on the floor of a filthy tavern, or in Diluc’s cellar, his hands around your neck and his eyes still filled with that wild, fiery anger he could never seem to wash away words of love and promises of safety. Somewhere closer to home, if nothing else, somewhere less alien to you than a hole of a cave on the outskirts of Liyue, where the air was heavy and the closest friendly face was that of the beast pursuing you, separate from the monster who would probably take your life. You thought it’d be quick, that you’d struggle, that you’d be able to struggle, and that you’d fail. You thought you’d be able to accept it. You thought you’d be able to face it bravely.

And yet, here you were. Cowering. Drawing it out.

'Being difficult', as Diluc would’ve loved to put it.

You might’ve had a chance, if you'd gotten your hands on a proper weapon. The dagger strapped to your thigh was a joke compared to the claws of the Geovishap you were hiding from, the one who'd sent crawling into a slit on a barren cliffside. Even with your vision strapped to your hip, glowing faintly with elemental energy, you needed a catalyst, a sword, something to release that energy through that wouldn’t be ripped apart as easily as skin and bone. For now, you could only buy yourself time, threading strings of frost between your splayed fingertips, wrapping a thin layer of ice around the gaping wound in your calf. You couldn’t do anything about the throbbing in your chest, the awkward bend of your ankle, the sharp edges of jade and lapis cutting into skin, but it was enough to stop the bleeding, to give yourself another second to breathe. You needed a second. You needed an hour. You needed a small eternity, but you doubted either one of your aggressors would ever be so kind.

You didn’t know where you were. You’d only been able to find a few maps of Liyue, but you doubted they’d survived the Geovishap’s initial attack, and you’d never been this far away from Mondstadt. The same went for the rest of your supplies, what little food and water you’d been able to buy with the meager collection of mora you’d stolen from Diluc, before you left. That’d been a risk, in hindsight. The staff wouldn’t notice if you were gone, not for a few days, but they’d notice the missing coins, and then they’d think to check your hiding spots, and your absence would be reported to oh-so-caring abductor with minimal delay. You’d have to hunt, or beg your next few meals off of the locals of the nearest village. Of course, you were assuming that you’d survive this, and that seemed to be more and more—

A wave of heat washed over you, intense and smoldering and familiar. There was a scream, animalistic and inhuman, and just like that, the rampaging Geovishap fell silent.

You hoped beyond reason, for a moment, that it was someone else, anyone else. That it was just an adventurer, a kind stranger, another vision-wielder who’d come more prepared for a fight. Then, you caught a distant sigh, the sound of metal against solid earth, and you cursed yourself for ever daring to be so optimistic.

“Come out,” Diluc called, barely raising his voice. He didn’t have to. If you were close enough to hear, he already knew you’d be listening. “I don’t want to play this game, (Y/n).”

You could’ve refused. You could’ve tried to stay hidden, pushed yourself deeper into the crevice that’s kept you safe so far, held your breath and shut your eyes and hoped Diluc lost his will before you did, but you were injured, and exhausted, and you already knew that he would only take disobedience as an excuse to drag you out himself. Favoring your good leg, your pushed yourself through the slit of an opening, exiting the tight cavern and stumbling into the open valley.

The smoke hit you first, dry and fragrant, hanging the air and making it hard to catch your breath as you leaned against the cliffside. The dry grass was still burning, trees and shrubbery completely scorched, and Diluc stood in the middle of it all, his posture straight and his broadsword embedded in the ground at his side, the charred embers of what used to be a Geovishap still disintegrating around it. He looked like a god, like an archon. He looked like a demon.

He looked like a monster, but he’d always looked like that, to you.

His gaze flickered over you, appraisingly. You knew how you must’ve looked – bruised, bloody, your clothes tattered and skin smudged with dirt, but you tried to stand tall, regardless. You couldn’t stand the thought of letting him look down on you so quickly.

“Five days.”

“That’s all?” You asked, trying to keep your tone apathetic, uncaring. “It feels like weeks have passed since I last saw you, darling.”

“You've been gone for five days.” He wasn’t listening to you. That was probably for the best. Nothing you were willing to say would’ve improved your situation. “I come home, spent and ready to embrace my beloved, only to find your window unlatched and my best horse missing from the stables. I had no way of knowing where to find you. I thought you’d been kidnapped. I thought were dead.”

You were starting to bleed, again. You were more of a healer than a fighter, but your injuries would need time, attention. More than you could give them under Diluc's careful scrutiny. “Right. Because it would be so terrible for someone to steal me away from such an accomplished thief.”

He didn’t try to deny it. His frown deepened, his agitated expression hardening into something a touch closer to genuine rage, but he only let out another airy sigh, shaking his head as his broadsword vanished. He took step towards you, then another, a gloved hand nearly brushing against your cheek before curling into a fist and falling away. You almost wished he would hit you. At least then, you wouldn’t have to watch him try so hard not to.

“I wasn’t the only one you worried,” He said, instead. “Willow is very concerned.”

You really, really wished he would hit you. “Don’t say his name.”

“You left him in my care. I have every right to mention my new responsibility.” He didn’t have to take your wrist, to grab you by the collar, to offer an idle threat in exchange for your cooperation. He just had to turn away, to gesture for you to follow. You knew better than to disobey, especially after you’d already been caught. “I have a carriage waiting in the nearest village. You can tend to your wounds on our way home.”

You knew better than to disobey. You did not know better than to test his limits. “And if I don’t want to go home with you?”

Diluc only glanced over his shoulder, a smile nearly tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t believe I gave you another choice, darling.”

To Diluc’s credit, he was still holding his anger at arm's length by the time you made it back to the Dawn Winery.

He watched you work silently in the carriage, his lips pursed as you made yourself a translucent cast of permafrost, one that melted into your injury like a second skin. He spoke to the valet in hushed whispers, his stubborn politeness enough to mask his aggression, and when you arrived, when you spared a last lingering glance towards the city just visible over the rolling hills, he only offered you his arm, giving you the choice between taking it or letting him sling you over his shoulder and carry you inside. You took the arm. You weren’t sure you’d be able to run, whether or not you were willing to try.

The maids didn’t stare, while Diluc lead you up the paved path. They knew better than that, better than to gossip, even if a few of the younger ones offered sympathetic nods as you passed by, their loyalty to their employer only slightly greater than their empathy for another citizen of Mondstadt forced into captivity. The farmers didn’t lift their gaze from the grapevines, the attendants didn’t spare you a second glance, and the butlers turned their eyes away as they opened the doors for you and Diluc, letting you enter without a trace of judgement or acknowledgement. The inside of the winery was more chaotic, a mix of bustling advisors and experts and visiting merchants, but only one face caught your attention – bright, freckled, no more than half your height and still clutching a wooden play-bow as he emerged from the nearest corner, a gaggle of chefs and tutors chasing after him. You didn’t think, only letting go of Diluc and falling to your knees, letting Willow embrace you without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Willow, your ward, your closest companion, your brother in all but blood.

Willow, the child you’d left alone with Diluc for five days while you ran off to Liyue, his safety secondary to your own.

Already, the guilt was nearly too much to bear.

“You were gone.” He was gasping, the words breaking at odd angles. He was too proud to cry, you’d raised him to be stubborn, but his small hands dug into your shirt, and you knew tears couldn’t be far off. “I… I was confused, and you weren’t here, and nobody knew—”

“Only for a moment.” You didn’t let him finish, running your fingers through his dark hair, tugging him closer. “Only ever for a moment. If I leave, I am going to come back to you, and don’t let anyone here convince you otherwise.” You dropped into a whisper, low enough to fall out of earshot of the lingering servants. “Have you been eating?”

There was a quick nod, small and undetectable. Good boy. Smart boy. You’d taught him better than to starve himself for anything, not for Diluc, and not for your absence. He pulled away, slightly, his eyes darting towards Diluc, standing just behind you. “Master Ragnvindr,” The title was pointed, purposeful. It’d been rehearsed among much more explicit, much uglier nicknames, but Diluc could stand being hated, he could stand Willow’s childish acts of rebellion. Total apathy was the only way to really get under his skin. “He said you would need to rest, when you came back.”

A hand landed on your shoulder, and Willow stiffened. “I don’t want to interrupt,” Diluc cut in, calm and even and unbelievably tense. Your hand drifted towards Willow’s, clasping over his, squeezing tightly. It was a small reassurance, but it was all you could offer, right now. “But I'm afraid I have to borrow this, for a moment. I promise, I’ll return it in one piece.”

‘Resting’ meant paranoia. It meant you’d gotten away, that he’d been deprived of you, and that you’d spend the next few days or weeks or months with your hands bound and your ankle chained to the bedpost and your meals delivered at sunrise, sunset, or not at all. Diluc would spend his time fucking you, or crying into your lap, or trying desperately to explain why he needs to do this, why he has to do this, why he doesn't have another choice. Willow must’ve sensed your panic, your dampened fear. “I hid a loaf of bread in his closet,” Willow muttered, too quietly for anyone else to hear. “A flask, too. He sounded—”

Willow didn’t react, he didn’t say anything, but you were being pulled to your feet, regardless, led away from Willow and toward Diluc’s office, not the most comfortable room, but the closest place the two of you could be alone. He spent most of his time in the city, so the space was sparsely decorated, filled with little more than important document and a few ornaments for easily impressed guests, but that didn’t matter, not when he seemed so focused on guiding you to the velveteen loveseat and locking the heavy wooden door behind him, ensuring that you wouldn't be interrupted.

You didn’t argue. You didn’t resist, not while he sighed, and huffed, and tried to express his displeasure without giving you an excuse to vent yours, and not while he positioned himself at your side, playing coy before shaking his head and wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging at you until his chest pressed against your back and he could bury his face in the dip of your shoulder.

Warm breath ghosted over your skin, his grip tight enough to pin your arms to your sides. “I missed you.”

It could’ve been worse. Last time, he’d fucked you in the vineyard, his lips tinted scarlet with wine and his eyes catching on the moonlight, making him look like some wild, feral thing. This was better. You had to believe that this was better. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” His grip tightened. On second thought, you might’ve preferred the vineyard. “If you knew how I felt, you wouldn’t try to leave. If you knew much I loved you, you wouldn’t act like it was such a burden. If you knew how dangerous it is, out there, you wouldn’t—”

“I know.” You couldn’t stand to let him go on. You didn’t want to let him go on. If you were going to let anyone outline the many tragedies of your life, you wouldn't let Diluc be the first. “You have enemies who would do anything to hurt you. There are monsters who are out for your blood, specifically, and they’re willing to hunt me down to get to it. You spent your childhood watching me steal food and sleep on the streets and try to take care of another poor orphan while I was still a child, and just when I started to get on feet, just when I found a job, a flat, a way to provide for my bother and I, the richest man in Teyvat suddenly found enough mercy in his heart to take us into his oh-so-benevolent care.” You closed your eyes, digging you nails into heels of your palms. Again, you wished you had a weapon. You would’ve done anything for a weapon, right now. “We don’t need your help. We didn’t need your help, not then, not by the time you thought lend a hand. And even if we did, you can hardly call anything you’ve done helping.”

There was a brief pause, a heavy silence. For a moment, you almost thought Diluc understood what you were trying to stay.

Then, he opened his mouth, and you thought better of it.

“You care about your brother, don’t you?” He asked, slowly. Like he was still testing out the words. “More than you care about me.”

Obviously. You’d spent so much of your childhood just trying to get by, just trying to make sure you were the only one who had to go hungry. Diluc was a better caretaker, objectively. He had wealthy parents, a fortune to fall back on, warm meals and soft beds and mora that hadn’t come from someone else’s pocket. But, Diluc hadn’t been there. Diluc hadn’t cared. He still didn’t care, not really. It was unsettling that he’d even thought to bring Willow up. It wasn't like him.

Your throat felt dry. “It’s not a steep competition.”

“And he’s never been without you,” He went on, quietly. “He cried, the first night you were gone. Do you know that? It would probably destroy him to go any longer than a few months without hearing from you.”

It would destroy him. It’d destroy you, too. Neither of you would survive, not for long.

“I was going to come back. Once I was settled in Liyue, and you stopped looking for me. I was going to come back.” It was an old habit, justifying yourself to someone who'd clearly chosen to ignore your logic. You shook off the temptation as gracefully as you could. “You wouldn’t. You’re not that cruel.”

“There are plenty of fine boarding schools in Fontaine,” He mused, his hands beginning to wander, finding your hips. You could feel his lips against the side of your neck, the hint of a sneer against your skin. It burnt. More than it should’ve. “Or Sumeru. Somewhere far from here, where letters tend to get lost. I’m not terribly picky.”

You moved to speak, but the words died on your tongue. Diluc had already moved on, gotten distracted, preoccupied himself with pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the junction where your shoulder-blade faded into tender flesh. You could feel his teeth, distantly, pointed canines brushing against raw scrapes and bruises, and you were aware that you’d probably leave his office with bloody marks on your neck and evidence of a new kind of carnage painted over you. “You can’t.” Your tone was small, pitiful, a little nothing that was easily forgotten. You tried again, more forcefully. “You can’t. You brought us here, and-- Neither of us would survive if you--”

“I brought you here. I agreed to fish Willow out of whatever orphanage he belongs in so you would stop trying to claw your way out of my arms, and it didn’t work.” He was growling, now, snarling. It took more courage than it should’ve not to curl into yourself, not to close your eyes and pretend he wasn’t there, but there’d be time for that, later on. He’d push you to that, later on. “My frustration should be understandable. You can see why I’d start to think of him as a nuisance, can’t you?”

He didn’t have any right to be frustrated. He didn’t have any right to be annoyed. He’d kidnapped you, he’d imprisoned you, and he didn’t have any right to act like making sure your brother got to live out his childhood in peace was such a burden. He didn’t have any right to, and yet, he was still holding onto you, his tongue still lapping at a bleeding puncture wound just above your jugular, his fingertips still playing at the hem of your tunic, brushing against your skin, making everything so much worse than it had to be.

“Please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for. You didn’t know how to ask, not with him so close, not when it was suddenly so hard to speak. “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll stay. Just… Just, please, don’t take him away from me.”

For the first time since he’d found you, Diluc smiled, and you wished that he’d been kind enough to leave you to die. You wished you'd never said anything at all.

You wished you'd never forced Diluc to remember how it felt to be alone.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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power-chords · 2 years

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Bux, visiting NYC for my winter break this year. Wanna go out to eat a lot. I'm no stranger to the city, and I have plenty of ideas, but I figured I should ask an expert: What are your favorite places to eat in Manhattan & Brooklyn? If you're willing to share. I have to assume there's a lot, but I wanna hear them all. As for something specific--I need to know a nice place to take a date in midtown. Dinner. Thanks a bunch, hope you're doing well!

OH, OH, OH. I love this. I am happy to share. Eager to share. I live to dine in New York, and to tell others where they ought to dine. It's the best thing we've got going for us, arguably.

I will add to this list of recommendations as I think of them, but for now, off the top of my head:

MANHATTAN: Ivan Ramen on Clinton Street (make a reservation, order the spicy ramen if you can take it, the chicken paitan if you can't). Ippudo NY is always a solid backup plan. And speaking of spicy: Somtum Der for outrageously good Isan Thai food (everything is good, but whatever you get, make sure to order the grilled coconut rice to staunch the burn). A nice dinner date in Midtown demands Keens Steakhouse, if you ask me. You should eat at a David Chang restaurant, ideally Ssam Bar. Those rice cakes... oh man. Via Carota, if you can get in (green salad as big as your head + divine pastas), I Sodi if you can't (lasagnaaaa). I like to go alone and sit at the bar for an early dinner; means I don't have to wait. Dhaba in Curry Hill is my favorite restaurant on the island for Punjabi Indian food, Dhamaka if you're feeling a little more adventurous. Her Name Is Han for Korean, Ma La Project for Sichuan dry pot, Hanoi House for pho/Vietnamese, and Nom Wah Tea Parlor is a dim sum institution for a reason. Katz's Deli is mad expensive these days, but you know what? You should still go.

All of these are Midtown or south of Midtown. If you need UES/UWS, Harlem, Morningside Heights, Inwood, let me know. These are all, also, sit-down-for-a-proper-dinner restaurants. If you want some fast casual/food hall-type options, let me know. Plenty of those, too.

BROOKLYN: I'll come back to you. Being in Westchester, I don't get out there much. And it's huge, so if you're going to be staying there, let me know which neighborhood. But I bet @authorityissues can weigh in, if he's so inclined :)

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

A Liar’s Bait

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!reader

Warnings: Idk fatui abuse? Also Aether gets his braid pulled don’t hate me. Also unedited asf.

Synopsis: There’s a hiccup in the elaborate plan you’ve concocted to rescue your friends, and said hiccup comes in the form of a handsome Cavalry Captain that doesn’t have the foggiest of clues as to what personal space is.

"Ah darling, I didn't know you'd be wondering about this late in the night." The charming cavalry captain, Kaeya, sang from behind you.

For a brief second, you froze in place, but not long enough for him to see through your motives. "Kaeya," You turned to him naturally, and spoke your next words like an actor revising a memorized script. "Have to return a book. You know how Lisa gets."

"At these ungodly hours?" He raised a brow, and you blinked away any remnants of sleep in your eyes at the mention of time.

Barely skipping a beat, you gave him an acknowledging smile. "I have some tasks to do tomorrow. It's better if I return it now." The book that is supposedly due tomorrow is waved hurriedly in the air, as if to exaggerate your point.

"Though it seems like Lisa has went home." He pointed out, cornering you against the brick wall, a knowing look in the deep pools of his eyes.

Of course you knew Lisa wasn't in. That was the entire base of your plan. There were a total of four knights on rotation at the headquarters. It was simple really, sneak into the library with your authority as trusted aide, and if push came to shove, an easy knockout would do.

However, Kaeya's sudden appearance put a hiccup through your plans. It would take more than a sock to the face to put him out of commission.

"Oh really?" You tilted your head in confusion, eyes widening, as you eyed him. "I probably should have came by earlier. Well then, I'll just have to put it on her desk with a note."

"You could trust it with me, and I'll return it tomorrow. Captain's word." He replied innocently, snatching the book from your fingers.

Archons, you absolutely did not have the time for this.

Aether and Paimon were waiting after all.

You decided not to shove a stick up his ass, and instead let your anger blow over silently.

"Your hands are clammy darling," Kaeya went on, flipping through the text just for show. "I can feel it on the book."

'Ew that's gross' You wanted to say, but decided to play his game instead.

"Guess I'm nervous." A forced a blush made its way onto your face. Okay maybe it wasn't forced, but you couldn't blame yourself for letting his subtle teasing get to you.

"Oh?" He feigned curiosity, letting the book close with a soft thud. "My presence often does that to people." The cocky undertone in his voice made you fantasize smacking his face a hundred times over.

"Of course," It was a struggle to not speak in a dry tone. "You are truly..." A small cough escaped your lips, and you tried to stumble upon the words, wishing upon barbatos that the flattering would work. "charming."

Kaeya's grin widened, all cat like, and for a brief moment you felt your heart stutter. He swooped in to cage you against the wall. "I didn't know you were so bold dear."

Before he could utter another flirtatious remark, you pushed yourself close to him, distracting him for a mere moment just to strategically slip the book into the safety of your arms. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll return the book myself."

With a swift duck under his arm, you made your way to HQ before a cold hand grabbed your shoulder. You ceased any movement and glanced over your shoulder, a frown made clear.

Kaeya narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not liking how you weren't becoming a bumbling idiot at his flirty behaviour like you usually did. You'd love to—but you just didn't have the time to deal with him, not when the fatui were breathing down your neck.

"I'll go with you." He said slowly, testing you for any reactions. Shit. He's on to you. "I can't let a pretty lady wander all alone. You might get lost."

Like hell you would. You knew everything about the damn base as if it were the back of your hand. Kaeya understood this as well, but instead, he opted to wake up every morning and choose to be a dickwad.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Lead the way."

Kaeya seemed satisfied at your reply, and slid his grip down from your shoulder, straight to your free hand. He walked in front of you, pulling you behind him like you were a clumsy toddler.

His gaze wasn't on you, so you took the chance to examine your surroundings, trying to find the presence that was tailing you.

Kaeya being this close to you wasn't looking good for you at all. The walls had eyes and ears, and the only way to apprehend the risk was by doing as they said. Only then would you get your opening.

Paimon...Aether...hold on a bit longer.

With a nod to the guards, Kaeya and you made your way in, stopping right in front of the library. With a puzzled expression on your face, you were about to question his intentions, until he readjusted his grip so that your fingers were intertwined.

You were sure your face was flushed in all kinds of colours by now.

"Shall we enter?" He asked you, mirth clear in his eyes.

The only signal you managed to give him was a quick nod.

The library smelled of dark oak and silk flowers. You briefly remembered Aether giving her the plant from his adventures back in Liyue. The bookshelves were decorated with intricate designs, filled with countless of books that had all earned their rightful place.

And you were about to steal one, summoning chaos into Lisa's beloved library. It would be you who might deliver an archived book straight into the hands of the very people who sought out violence in order to achieve power.

"I'll check it in for you," Kaeya let go of your hand after dragging you all the way to the front desk, only to outstretch it for the text you were gripping too hard.

"Oh yeah," You handed it to him—willingly this time. "thank you. I'll be looking around."

It was understood what you had to do. Easily finding the locked case from which you would slip the book into your clothes only to make a run for it wouldn't cut it.

The captain would make too much noise and track you down himself before you could get the chance to shove the book up the Fatui's ass, get Aether and Paimon their freedom back. Then once you'd ensure their safety, you'd beat the living shit out of the Fatui agents right after. It's not like you'd have a choice.

The whole reason you were in this whole mess was because you decided to help Aether out with his latest commission, which happened to be clearing out a hilichurl camp smack dab in the middle of a road. The camp blocked all imports and exports, proving to be a stick in the butt for the merchants of Monstadt.

You, oh helpful and kind you, assisted him with the task, seeing as you were walking back from a fishing trip.

Turned out that the hilichurl camp was a cover for a bunch of Knights of Favonious hungry Fatui agents who were hellbent on getting the one and only copy of a book Lisa had tucked away in the library.

While you two could've easily ended every single one of those shady bastards, enemy reinforcements came out of nowhere and dug their claws right into Aether.

At least that was the cover story.

Violà, a hostage situation was born.

They promised to let Aether go on one condition. If you obtained a book they had their eyes on for quite some time. But their promise had as much worth as Venti's word did when he told you that the drinks were on him.

They couldn't risk the Knights finding out. You were just another loose string that would be cut off along your two friends.

Locating the book and hiding it in your outfit undetected was as effortless as it could get. What was coming would not be.

"Darling," Kaeya called out to you, but his voice is different. More darker than usual. You didn't summon your spear just yet.

"I've finished up. Let's get going yeah?" His footsteps are light on the wooden planks of the floor, but his words are solid. Frozen even.

You breathed out, but refused to turn around.

"You know," He continued, halting next to your shoulder, leaning his sweet mouth down to your ear. His hot breath fanned against your neck, but you paid no heed. "A liar is no stranger to a liar."

You lunged to the side, spinning on your heel as your back hit the railing in the middle of the library. The captain reacted quickly by swiping the air, but ultimately failed to grab you as you gracefully tipped yourself over, landing right on your feet.

There was now a floor that separated the two of you. Just as you had intended.

The reflexes you showcased earned you a smooth-voiced chuckle, an amused smirk gracing his lips. He leaned against the ledge with both hands, bending down his upper body.

"Oh my. We've got ourselves a thief. You didn't think I wouldn't notice, right?" He contemplated, weapon materializing right then and there, ready to put on a good show. You could read him like a book just as he could you. "Can't believe you're such a naughty girl."

Despite his teasing tone, his eyes remained cold and calculating.

"Don't flatter yourself." You spoke monotonously, brushing a hand in the air. "The date stamp didn't match up right? Tight time frame, couldn't really think about the logistics."

Kaeya narrowed his eye shrewdly, offended. "I can't let you go you know."

"I don't need you to." You quipped, but then placed a finger on your chin. "On second thought I kind of do. How about a friendly transaction? I really don't want to fight you."

"And I do not wish to fight you, darling." Kaeya's face split into a viscous smile, a far less forgiving gaze meeting you halfway. This was your chance to tell him, he was giving you a generous opening to explain yourself.

You bit your lip, feeling the unknown presence yet again. The walls had eyes and ears. The walls had vengeful teeth that would dig into you the minute you'd let it slip.

"I need you to let me go." You clutched the leather of your gloves desperately, your prior confidence flickering. Begging was the only card you had left.

His hardened gaze on your form softened slightly, but disappeared almost instantly.

You didn't have to wait for him to voice his answer. It was as clear as day.

The captain didn't waste any more time when jumping over the ledge.

By the time Kaeya's feet made impact, your pole arm was already aimed and ready to strike.

"Let's dance."

After a tactical withdrawal, you found yourself taking tentative steps on the outskirts of Springvale. It wouldn't have been possible if Kaeya didn't let his guard down momentarily.

The cuts on your shoulder still stung, but it was difficult to spare any time towards the throbbing.

Why were you walking so slow? Did your plan not work? No, it should have. You calculated every risk. But why the hell were you prolonging the inevitable end?

It didn't matter. Either way, you'd get to sink your teeth into some unfortunate fatui agents, injecting them with centuries worth of pain.

The opening was nearby, you noted, the pathway familiar. You always were good with maps, oftentimes lending a hand to the certain young outrider with a bright smile and kind heart.

You allowed yourself to calm your erratic heartbeat, and slow your breathing as to get a clearer sense around you. There were two, but before there had been three. The third one revealed himself when you deployed your "return the book" scheme, flipping through the guidebook carefully to see if you left potential breadcrumbs.

Gnawing at your lip, you followed the trail, the world behind you quieting down to a silent whisper.

It seemed like forever when you reached the destination, halting your movements.

Your ears perked up at their footsteps before you could catch a glimpse of them, but made no sudden movements except for dropping the book on the ground as they had instructed.

It was odd that you felt as calm as you did. It could've been because of your confidence in your abilities, or perhaps, something else entirely.

The pyro agent appeared from one of the bushes, right after shoving a bruised and gagged Aether. Paimon came next, in a cage controlled by a fatui cicin mage who wore a wicked smile on her stupid face.

They managed to shut Paimon up real quick. You wondered what it took, but not for too long.

"Hey now," You grinned, but your fingernails were digging crescents in your palm. "I thought we agreed that no one gets hurt?"

"The traveller here is a real handful." The fatui agent hissed from under his mask, harshly yanking Aether by his braid.

Aether, immobile, scowled in discomfort and continued to struggle through his bounds.

You didn't acknowledge the blond nor the agent's words, alternatively choosing to nod your head to the book instead. "Here as promised."

The agent motioned to the Cicin mage, who walked forward in order to obtain the book safely. She handed it back to him, and he briefly flipped through it, seemingly satisfied.

Just like that, Aether was knocked down on his knees next to your feet, Paimon thrown like a sack of potatoes atop him. They were out of the red. Your signal to strike.

"Unfortunately, promises are beneath our pay grade." The agent placed a finger on his chin, as if in thought. "However, you prove to be a valuable asset."

"Oh really?" You piped, eyes crinkling in mock excitement. "I'm really glad a lowly fatui scum thinks so highly of me. It's truly an honour."

Said fatui agent glared knives straight through his mask.

"Kill them." He ordered, and the Cicin mage hummed a sound of delight, summoning her electro-flies or whatever the hell those things were called.

Your polearm took shape in the clutches of your left hand, a twisted grin plastered on your face.

"I'm gonna have so much fun tearing you apart." The bloodlust you emanated was enough to choke the air out of both the mage and agent.

Pouncing on your prey, you didn't give the mage a chance to scream before you landed a roundhouse kick straight to her ribs. She made a guttural choking sound, moving to clutch herself. You ended the move by twisting your weapon into the air to send a shattering hit straight to her temple.

Your blow successfully knocked her out, the kick back proving to be enough to send the pyro agent flying into a nearby tree.

"I really expected something more challenging." A pout formed on your lips, eyebrows furrowed. "Hopefully you can make up for what your mage lacked. If not, I'll be disappointed."

The agent chuckled painfully. "You won't get the chance. You can't take on all of us."

"All of you?" You questioned, tilting your head, eyes widening innocently. "Oh you mean those pesks that were tailing me? So sorry, but they're gone now."

"W-what?!" He sputtered, quick on his feet as he pulled out his knife, charging it with elemental energy. "How could you have—"

"How unfair," A low tone whistled, and Kaeya finally made an appearance, smiles and everything. "Don't give her all the credit. You're making me feel left out."

The pyro agent scattered around his flames, preparing to shake up the battle—

You lost your patience and picked up a decent sized rock, aimed for his nose, and sent a plunging attack.

The agent lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

"Oh come on!" Kaeya's dejected groan rang in your ears. "Could've let me have a turn."

"You already had your turn." You sent a pointed stare at him, bending down near the mage to wipe the blood of your pole arm with her clothes. "Two times if I recall."

He rolled his eyes playfully, forgetting the banter to go and free the traveller of his bounds.

—

"Let's me get this straight." Jean said with fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "You two roughed up some fatui agents without informing the knights, and put the traveller at risk." There's this look of disappointment in her face, but you're used to it by now.

Hanging around Kaeya sure had its ups and downs.

"Precisely. The folder on your desk has all the details. Enough proof to have them in our custody.” The cavalry captain nodded along, and it somehow made you feel like you were a kid being scolded after getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

"It was an operation that the traveller agreed to," You declared so her brewing anger didn't overflow. "The perfect plan to catch them in the act. It was my idea. The captain didn’t really know until later.”

"Although I’m quite hurt you didn’t fill me in any sooner, I must say, watching those ignorant fatui diplomats scramble to try and find an explanation is going to be worth the wait.” He spoke with a hint of a smile.

The both of you fist bumped. Jean wasn't amused.

The acting grand master produced a stern glare. "Y/N, assist Lisa with anything she needs for the rest of the week. And the Cavalry Captain here won't be going out on patrols any time soon."

That was a clear lie, but Jean had to keep up appearances after all. What kind of acting grand master would she be if she didn't at least pretend to have some sort of authority over her two trouble-making subordinates.

With a dramatic sigh, you spun on your heel to leave.

“Hey Y/N,” Jean called out, and you tilted your head, wanting to know if she changed her mind and decided to make your punishment worse. “Good work today. That will be all.” She avoided eye contact, feigning deeper interest in the pileup on her desk.

After the "briefing”, as Kaeya liked to call it, you found yourself outside of HQ with him right on your tail.

"Not too shabby for a day's work." He winked, smoothing out his words. "I must say, I'm quite impressed with how this went. Didn't expect you to put so much faith in me.”

"How did you get my signal anyways?" You snorted. "The entire scheme was off the bat. I had to wink at the traveller like five times to get him to showcase a crappy fight stance and become my fake hostage. Dense little guy.”

There was a momentary pause before Kaeya enlightened you with an answer.

"You hate reading, and you're irresponsible." He pointed out cheekily, poking at your nose. You scrunched your nose and turned away, cheeks warming. "The abyss would freeze over before you ever read a book, let alone steal one. That’s several red flags for me.”

He kept going, finding the topic of this to be quite interesting. “Not to mention returning the “Code of Conduct” handbook.” The relentless teasing was one of the reasons why you dreaded work,

"Gee thanks." You remarked unceremoniously. “I didn’t need your help at all. You just love sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

"Aww don't be so low spirited." He suspended your movements by curling an arm around your waist. "Let me treat you for a job well done darling." His hot breath fanned your ear, lips teasingly close.

Dammit dammit...why does he have to be so close!

"That's unfair." Paimon screeched from thin air, scaring the living daylights out of you. "After all the traveller and I have been through, don't we deserve a treat as well?!"

Kaeya laughed apologetically, cold hand never leaving your hips. "Of course. The honorary knight has been quite the help. Now let’s get moving, we're not frozen in place, after—"

A smack on the arm shut him up real quick.

#kaeya x reader #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #genshin impact oneshot #aether #Paimon

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pyrrhiccomedy · 3 years

Note

Hello ☺️, I’ve heard from your lovely lady companion Emily that you’re a very seasoned DM! I was wondering if you had any advice for beginners to DMing when it comes to things like improvising and making sure your first session has an impact on the players as their introduction to the world. Any advice at all would be a lifesaver! Thank you ☺️✌🏻

holy shit, a question about DMing. you have freed me, stranger. I can stop blogging about Troy (2004).

First of all, I’m really excited to hear that you’re going to be DMing for the first time! DMing is understandably intimidating, but it’s also incredibly creatively fulfilling, and it’s something you’ll still be learning how to do better after 25 years.

Okay, so let’s talk about session 1.

Your first session has a lot of lifting to do. You want to make an emotional impact, you want your players to learn about the world, you want to convey tone and genre, and you want your PCs to have a chance to band together and form quick connections.

I really can’t say enough good things about session 1 being about An Escape, because an escape scenario immediately poses a whole bunch of really valuable questions.

What is a crime in this world?

Who are your natural adversaries?

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Literally, in 3 of the last 4 campaigns I’ve run, session one was An Escape. I’ll walk you through the set-ups for 2 of them (the third is a one-on-one campaign, so maybe not as useful to you).

In Vampire: the Masquerade, the party (all vampires) woke up staked to the ground in the basement of an abandoned school, captives of the fanatical inquisitorial group, the Society of Leopold. None of them had met each other before, all of them were confused, angry, scared, and low on blood.

What is a crime in this world?

Just being a vampire is a crime. You can be brutally attacked, captured, and murdered for being what you are. Your only recourse is to fight for your life.

Who are your natural adversaries?

Vampire hunters. They are not as strong or as fast as you, but they have dirty tricks up their sleeves and fanatical conviction on their side, and they do not see you as human.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

Without them, you will not escape your predicament. You know you can trust them because you have a common enemy. Each of them will have a chance to solve a problem with a unique skill that you do not possess, driving home that you can solve dangerous problems together that you could not overcome on your own.

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Fast, flashy, bloody, and dark. Descriptions of injuries are savage; heads get torn off, chests get ripped open, shadows pinwheel wildly as the sole hanging light in the ceiling gets knocked around amidst the violence. But there’s a slick cool to all of it. You are in real danger, but you are also capable of dealing out grievous and acrobatic harm.

What will the next few sessions be about?

Upon your escape, the Prince of the city charged you all with seeking out the leaders of the hunters. Best not to disappoint him.

In my Call of Cthulhu campaign, the characters were all prisoners on a bus to the gulag, in Russia in 1938.

What is a crime in this world?

Literally anything, if you have displeased the wrong people. One of you received a letter you shouldn’t have seen. Another one wrote seditious poetry. Another was rude to a secret police officer during an investigation. Another literally has no idea why he’s here. There is a cold, kafkaesque indifference to the notion of fairness in this world. You have been disenfranchised and shipped off to do hard labor for almost nothing at all. Do not bother to look for reason in the machinations of the state.

Who are your natural adversaries?

The NKVD. They are all-powerful, all-seeing, and brutal. They could kill every last one of you right here in the snow, and so long as they filed the correct paperwork afterwards, there will be no follow up investigation. They have the key to the vehicles, they have warm clothes, they have all of the guns, they have the radio that is your only way of contacting the outside world. You don’t even have coats that will keep out the freezing wind. If you want what you need to escape this place, you will have to take it from them.

Why should you trust & rely upon your new party members?

You will be shot, if you try to escape alone. The tundra is vast and the NKVD are always watching. Your only hope is to cause confusion and hope that your numbers count for more than your jailers’ guns. And once you’re out, into Siberia? conditions are so hostile you have no choice but to band together for survival.

What is violence like in this game? This says a lot about your game’s tone.

Almost instantly fatal. You are shown fellow prisoners (NPCs) get headshot by the NKVD captain and drop to the ground, dead. Another NPC has a broken leg, and cannot participate in combat at all. If you get hurt, that’s it. There are no health potions or magic spells that will mitigate the effects of bullets and the biting wind.

What will the next few sessions be about?

As you escaped, you saw strange apparitions across the snow, which caused the radio to malfunction. You are fleeing in your stolen truck from the NKVD, but where are you going? Where can you go, except towards the mystery?

Escapes are great, too, because as a DM, your list of things you need to prepare is pretty concrete. You need:

- Mooks

- A boss for the mooks

- a map of the immediate area, so your players know what avenues of potential escape they have

- a couple of NPC fellow prisoners for them to talk to & for you to kill along the way (alternately, this can be a great way to link the party up with future quest-givers straight from the jump).

- A list of possible resources to aid in their escape that they might be able to get their hands on (a fire axe? a radio? a car?)

- A couple of ideas for spanners to throw in the works (if things are too easy/going too quickly, maybe this NPC fellow prisoner turns on them, hoping to curry favor with the NKVD; maybe one of the hunters has a flamethrower to force the vampires to double back; maybe it starts to snow with white-out conditions, maybe something is being filmed right outside and the vampires can’t bust through the steel doors without potentially breaking the Masquerade).

Another great thing about escapes is that they’re geographically isolated. So you don’t need to have The Entire Starting Zone figured out from session 1: you just need to know about this one truck stop in Siberia, or this abandoned school in Queens. When they gain access to the wider world, the session ends, and you should have an idea of where they want to go next.

And if any of their captors survive, you may have an act 1 villain on your hands. Don’t get too attached to the idea that any of them WILL survive; but if they do, and the party bears them a grudge, find them a place in the story, flesh them out as an adversary. Your Big Bad means nothing to them yet, but Captain Volkov, the NKVD captain who pursued them across the ice like a relentless automaton, scares them.

Another thing I like about escapes is that they feel very natural. There is no quest giver; they have an obvious goal they can all agree on, and the obstacles to achieving it are built into the situation. It’s a solid framework for an adventure that you can pack a lot of worldbuilding detail into along the way.

Good luck!

#dice matters

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astrologichole · 4 years

Text

the signs and their best qualities

Aries: selfless, adventurous, the hardest workers ever, cares a lot, extremely helpful, their wisdom is so unexpected but valuable, will go to great lengths to protect the people they love, charming, magnetic, will prove you wrong so don’t even try arguing with them, relentless and driven, will stop at nothing to achieve their goals even if their goals seem impossible, very sure of themselves, would probably actually kill for you

Taurus: smart as hell, really relaxed but never boring, unexpectedly creative, surprising, can be very romantic when they’re in love, always willing to try new things, funny as hell, the most sarcastic and snarky people, generally cool people with a diverse perspective, music taste is impeccable, don’t even bother trying to argue with them because their logic and debate skills are unnaturally advanced, up front and genuine, doesn’t like to bullshit people, go to them for honesty and good advice

Gemini: will give those they love everything they need, observant, not afraid to stand up for themselves, go getters in general, really silly (sometimes morbid) humor and generally fun to be around, strong, compelling, really interesting people with lots of “useless” knowledge and fun facts, knows more than they show, they’re often the most victimized sign but in reality they’re just really misunderstood because they themselves don’t understand who they are but that’s part of their charm

Cancer: the absolute most selfless, always figures out a solution even when it doesn’t seem possible, can win over anyone, timeless, they’re probably the most magnetic sign because of how fucking great their personalities are, well-rounded, wouldn’t kill for you, but would emotionally torment someone for you, knows how you feel before you even know how you feel, dreamy, honestly just lovely people, their endurance for people’s bullshit is above and beyond, even though they’re emotionally sensitive, they connect on a very deep and empathetic level and may appear disheveled but are actually pretty aware of what they feel

Leo: their minds.....ugh, one of the most underestimated signs in terms of their creativity and emotional toll, committed until the very end, when they’re in love they’re actually pretty big babies and will 100% surprise you with their sensitive nature, natural leaders but even if they’re more on the subdued side, leos still have a natural knack for understanding people on a level that enables them to move through (especially) their careers, relationships and so forth, self-aware and unafraid of judgment as judgment only adds to their constant inner quest for self understanding, stereotypical leos are known as being out there and brave, but often times leo’s want to be acknowledged for their ability to withhold themselves and be more in control than they let off

Virgo: they remember everything...everything, they’re really the baddest bitches out there, incredibly smart and determined, gives the best advice, will tell it like it is and doesn’t care to hold back what they see as true, their actions are their love language and those actions are priceless, they honestly live thirty years in the future and are really prepared even if they don’t know what they’re prepared for, while they can sometimes come off as grounded and engrained in the more serious aspects of life, virgos are actually incredibly sensitive and imaginative and are never given enough credit for their visions and virtues, able to navigate tricky situations, fearless

Libra: babies, extremely lovable, quietly powerful, not just smart but incredibly wise, gentle and caring, living, breathing fairytale people, extremely giving and gracious, even though they’re indecisive, they’ll alway try their best to make the most well intentioned decisions, they just kind of get it, can analyze you in 2 seconds and suddenly know everything about your deep rooted childhood traumas (I don’t understand how but they just do), they’re people pleasers so they’re very social, but their truest selves come out most when they can connect to someone who genuinely understands them and vice versa, they’re very tired so expect lots of naps and quality relaxation time with them, peaceful angels

Scorpio: the absolute most stubborn and unrelenting sign and while that could be a negative quality, its positive attributes are that they will not stop until they’re understood and will be wildly loyal to their morals and standards even if those moral and standards are a bit unaligned with everyone else’s, highly individualistic but can blend in easily if they want to, passionate, when they’re in love they’re in love for good (the perfect soulmates), critical for the best reasons, they don’t like to sugar coat and want to give the best advice possible while still keeping things very real, adaptable, their mind is everywhere and with that they are an endless landscape of imagination, visions, and characters all weaved within this one beautiful mind

Sagittarius: they’re just here to have a good time, would 10000% kill for you, steal for you, probably commit treason for you but they’re chillin, will go to great lengths to understand others and the world around them, cultural and diverse, very social but they also know when to pull back and seek comfort from themselves, they know how important self-awareness is and constantly seek out who they are and what they aim to be, refuses to be tied down to any one thing (not to suggest they’re incapable of finding a solid relationship, rather, they need someone who can match their unrelenting speed and drive for life), truly goes with the flow and lets life lead them rather than lead their own life

Capricorn: doesn’t seem like they’re psycho analyzing you, but they're 100% psycho analyzing you, scary smart, the hardest working sign, they’re often considered as a bit stiff and lacking vulnerability, but on the inside, capricorns are complex and other worldly and really want to be understood, they can endure and manage just about anything, is unexpectedly very artistic and deeply understanding of the emotions their art depicts, committed and responsible, incredibly reliable, they don’t like to cancel plans or ghost people, but sometimes they need time to themselves and can be susceptible to those things which is perfectly fine because capricorns deserve a bit of a departure from their usual selves, the type of person you think about even if you don’t talk to them for a long time

Aquarius: cares a lot about social issues and pressing matters, optimistic, efficient with time, not afraid to try new things, a people person (pretty popular), very free spirited, very in tune with their morals and virtues, easy to relate to when they’re vulnerable with those they’re close with, mysterious and adaptable, truly the chameleon of the zodiac signs, great listeners and even better speakers, can dictate a conversation even through silence (it’s never awkward), sometimes has a hard time loving others deeply but has an everlasting love for life so it’s cool

Pisces: also babies, empathetic and kind, dreamy, intuitive and observant, goes out of their way for the people they love (or strangers, they just like making sure everyone is comfortable), good listeners, will make you fall in love with them without them even knowing it, sensitive to other’s feelings and morals, socially aware, overall very sweet but also very encyclopedic and aware of social and political matters (can debate you under the table), will 100% take you away from reality

#aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #zodiac #astrology

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

peace | t. seguin

a/n: had this idea for a hot minute. finally felt like writing it out!

wine pairing: a port wine, pretty much as sweet as wine gets.

warnings: cavity causing sweetness. some swearing.

word count: 2.8K

Tyler Seguin had taken a while to grow up, longer than some people wanted, longer than even Tyler himself had wanted at some points. Some people had lost faith he ever would, even some of the people closest to him. It made him cautious and caused him to retreat further into his comfortable shell of youth and false innocence. It prevented him from becoming the person he was always meant to be. Youth and the mistakes that come along with it weren’t forever and he had always know that. But it was easy. Continuing down a straight, defined path was easier than taking one that branched off into the surrounding mist with no idea what the end would look like, even if the path he was on would end in a brick wall he’d seen coming since he’d started on it.

Until you.

Meeting you for the first time was one of Tyler’s foggiest memories. He had been absolutely trashed, falling all over himself at a bar. You had been there with a few friends, celebrating something that good that had happened at work, a good presentation, a new client, a promotion, Tyler couldn’t remember for the life of him. Tyler had tried to be smooth and offered to buy you a drink, but the interaction instead ended up with you flagging down a bartender to get him a glass of water and slyly confiscating the whiskey sour from him when he was too lost in the effort of trying to impress you to notice. You got two cups of water in him before he had even noticed. To be fair, Tyler hadn’t noticed much of anything that night, just that you were beautiful and that he had liked your smile from across the bar.

Somehow, someway, you had given him your number before he left under the guise of letting you know when he got home safely. It wasn’t a guise on your part, but Tyler had used it as an opportunity to ask you out to brunch, the most innocent sounding of dates, as a way to say thank you for taking care of him. By some grace from something Tyler wasn’t even sure he fully believed in, you had agreed to brunch. He was all but convinced you were going to stand him up, realizing that he was just the mess you’d seen that one night, and that you could definitely do better than him. But you were there when he arrived, put together and so good, so much better than him. You were still there really, since Tyler had shown up fifteen minutes late.

He didn’t know why, considering you were probably the most beautiful person he had ever been allowed in twenty feet of, but you laughed, you smiled, you enjoyed his company. You told him you did. You were blunt, strong in your beliefs in the face of any test. In all the time Tyler had known you, beginning with your choice to show up on the date even though he was certain everyone in your life who looked out for you told you not to go, you never wavered from your convictions, not even for a second. Your feet were firmly planted in your viewpoints, roots wrapping around each one to hold you in place, strong enough to weather any storm.

You showed up for a second date, then the third, then Jamie’s birthday party, then to dinner with his mom and sisters. You kept showing up, even as Tyler held his breath, waiting for you to realize that he was so flawed compared to you. You were a future masterpiece and Tyler was at best a work in progress, but it was already so obvious that while you deserved to be hung in a prominent spot in the Louvre when you were finished, Tyler’s top showing might be an abstract college art gallery in a hidden New York alley. But god, did he love getting to be the person who got to stand next to you, seeing each brush stroke of the life you were building in motion. You were the most impressive person he had ever met and you continued to be, every layer of paint containing something else that astounded him and made him feel inferior, like he was tarnishing, borderline ruining, the masterpiece that was you by putting his hands in the wet paint of your life. You swore to him he was only making you better.

He didn’t know how that was possible, but he trusted your words. Your integrity ran too deep in the foundations of who you were to lie to him. With every addition to your life, your integrity ran through it. You knew exactly the person you wanted to be and you would drag yourself there kicking and screaming if that’s what it took. The depth of your integrity was the thing that made Tyler most terrified, because he barely had any idea of who he was before he met you. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane that made up his life and he was a sapling among the winds, green and flexible, but with swallow roots, barely sunk in, constantly in danger of being lifted from the soil at the words of shitty friends and strangers on the internet. You were solid, firm, sunk deep into the soil next to him and thank god for that. Tyler wasn’t great at a lot of things when he met you, but he knew he had to hold onto you. If holding onto you was the only thing he ever did right, it would be more than enough.

Except Tyler felt guilty for doing it, because while Tyler matured with you, his roots growing deeper along with his convictions, he still felt small standing next to you. Sometimes when he got to do his childhood dream of a job, a grown man playing a little kid’s sport, talking shit on the ice, in interviews, in the locker room, he felt like he was wasting the good person you were, like he was wasting your integrity and honor with his own actions. He could give you adventures, fulfill your wildest dreams. He could give you the family you always wanted. He could hold your hand through the worst storms, help you fight off the potential robbers of your happiness. But the storm would always come and the robbers would always be on your doorstep because Tyler was the one pulling them in. His job brought attention, resulting in a chaotic version of your life that you never envisioned for yourself. He could never stop it, only stand next to you as you stood tall in the storm.

Standing there, with the sun slowly setting behind him, barring down on his neck, his suit felt heavy on his shoulders, but not as heavy as the velvet box in his hands. He’d had it for over a month now. Designing the contents had been easy, arguably fun even for Tyler who had thought it would be like a root canal, but the second the jeweler had handed him the finished product, the doubt started forming, dragging his mind down. Before he held the ring, he felt like he had been floating on the best memories of your relationship, giving him confidence that you would say yes. Those cherished memories kept his mind afloat, far enough away from potential pitfalls to move forward with creating this symbol of your relationship in his hands. But without warning, he was in mental quicksand made up of past fights, the negative outside opinions he has always pushed aside and hoped you did to, and past versions of himself he didn’t like as much, and he felt like he couldn’t get his head above water long enough to find any possible reason you might say yes instead of no.

But here he was, unable to handle the doubt anymore, velvet box in hand, ready to ask you to marry him because the only way he couldn’t doubt your answer was if he knew it. Tyler bounced on his heels, his new dress shoes creasing with his movements. Why had he gotten new shoes for this? Didn’t he have enough dress shoes? That’s what you asked him when he’d brought them home a week ago, after he finally realized he was going to feel like he was drowning until he asked you. He had waved you off, saying he didn’t have a pair this particular shade, which was a lie. They were black. Shades were a little irrelevant in the realm of black dress shoes. He didn’t know exactly why he had bought them, or why they helped bring him to this point, the park where you’d walked together after your second date, but they had and because of that, he didn’t regret buying yet another pair of black dress shoes.

He checked his watch again for easily the twentieth time in a tenth of those minutes. You would be walking down the path any moment and this would be real. This was the last moment that Tyler could live in limbo, the last moment of carrying the doubt that was hanging so heavy on his mind, but also the last moment he wouldn’t know if your answer was no. God, what would he do if you said no? He didn’t have a plan for that, for what it would feel like to watch his entire future go blank in one moment, for what it would feel like for his heart to come out of his chest through his throat only to have it tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Tyler shook his head softly and turned the box over in his hands again.

He heard your laugh before you came around the bend and it made him smile. It made him remember exactly why he had started this horrible journey to this moment in the first place; he couldn’t imagine his life without that laugh, without your hair ties scattered across his house, without you standing at the front door every single time he came home from a road trip, no matter the time. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat when you came into view. You looked beautiful every day, but that was his favorite dress, the one from your fourth date, and you were wearing the heels he had bought you for the first birthday of yours he spent with you. As you came closer, he saw the earrings from Christmas this past year and the necklace that matched them that he followed up with for your anniversary a few months ago. There were touches of how he touched your life all over you and it made him feel, for a second, like maybe you might just say yes.

“Tyler,” you smiled at him softly and he had to let out a long, strained breath to try to get his head on straight, “what is all of this? Jamie didn’t tell me anything.”

“Yeah, I told him not to,” Tyler laughed a little, trying to expel some of his nerves in his laughter.

“What’s going on, Ty?” you pressed again, taking in the flowers, the candles, and Tyler’s suit, which at least made you feel less like the only person overdressed for a walk in the park.

Tyler didn’t answer with his words. He let his eyes find yours and he thought about how central the woman behind them had become to his entire life. He didn’t have a speech planned. He knew he would have forgotten it anyway. He slowly dropped down onto his right knee and just let the words tumble out of his mouth, just trying to keep the pace somewhere near where you could possibly understand.

“When I met you, I was someone else. I was a guy who never showed up anywhere on time. I hated mornings and responsibility. I didn’t know who I really wanted to be, let alone how to get there. I didn’t really believe in much of anything, least of all myself,” Tyler started, “but you changed all of that, just by being there. You showed up in my life and didn’t try and change a single thing about me. You showed up and I realized I wanted to be better. You were the catalyst. You started this chain reaction of change that made me realize the person I wanted to be was the person who deserved someone like you.”

Your hands were covering your mouth as the tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak so thank god you didn’t have to. You just needed to listen, so you did.

“I’m still not some perfect guy. I’m a work in progress and I know that. I’m not a hundred percent sure of who I’m going to be, but I know I’m ready to be the best husband to you. You’re the person that I tell everything to, my wildest dreams, my fears, my ups, my downs, my lefts, my rights, but you’re also the only person I can sit in silence with and feel comfortable doing it because I don’t feel alone in silence if you’re sitting next to me in it too,” Tyler continued.

“I see your brother as my brother, your family as my family. God, I want to create a new family with you so badly, give you that child I know you’ve wanted your entire life. I want to keep you warm during the cold nights. I want to make sure your head stays above water when the blues come in waves. I want to love you in a way that’s only meant for the two of us to ever understand. I want to be your husband. I want to be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Tyler cleared his throat. The tears falling down your face were mirrored in his eyes now, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t talk if he cried, so he looked up toward the sky, willing the tears to let him finish first.

“But baby, I can’t ever give you peace. I can give you all of me, my absolute best foot forward every single day, but I can’t give you peace. I can’t give you the quiet, calm life that you deserve.” His voice was cracking and breaking every other word, the pain he felt behind the words hanging onto each syllable unyieldingly. “There’s always going to be people talking shit, saying terrible things about you, about us. We’re always going to have to live behind high walls with narrow gates. The storm is always going to come for you if you’re standing with me and that kills me, because you deserve to feel safe and secure and at peace in your life.”

Tyler wiped his eyes with the back of his hand slowly, letting out a deep, shaky breath as he tried to pull himself back to a place where he could actually ask you what he came here to ask you. He didn’t think it would be this damn hard. He might have tried to practice otherwise.

“Is it enough?” Tyler asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would I be enough, even if I can never give you peace? Is my love good enough to overcome that for the rest of your life? I hope so, because I’m asking if it’s enough. I’m asking you, if everything I can offer you is enough to overcome all of that. If it can, let me be your coparent. Let me be your partner. Let me be your husband.”

Tyler opened the velvet box he swore weighed a ton right now and you gasped behind your closed mouth. His mind was too foggy and too anxious to try to figure out if your reaction was positive or negative at this point.

“Will you marry me?”

The words, the four words that had felt like a shackle on his mind for months now, finally came out of his mouth. The doubt was gone. There was no reason for it anymore. Your answer would be what it was and there was nothing Tyler could do or say to change your mind now. Nothing he said in this moment would. If you wanted to marry him, you would’ve decided you did long before you showed up here today. Your answer was fixed long before Tyler’s speech and he knew that now.

Tyler watched you with anxious eyes, taking in the tears sliding down your face, your hands shaking over your mouth. He watched as you slowly took your hands away from your mouth. Your lower lip was quivering not unlike your hands as you slowly fanned your face in an effort to calm your reddened checks and put a dam on the tears that were still flowing. Even if he hadn’t said a word other than those last four tonight, you already knew your answer.

“Yes, Tyler. Yes.”

You offered your hand out, watching as his shaking hands clumsily collided with your to slide the ring onto your left hand. Tyler’s arms around you and his mouth on yours happened in a blurb and you melted into his strong chest. Your fiancé. Your future husband.

Tyler was wrong though. He thought he would create endless noise in the background and foreground of your life, robbing you of the ability to live a good, quiet life. But Tyler gave you all of the peace you could ever want in moments like this, where the entire rest of the world drowned out by his warmth and his love, when you were pressed against his chest.

This was peace and it was more than good enough. It was everything you had ever hoped for.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine #folklore writing series

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years

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Idea: Escape Room AU. Making a loose interpretation of that one horror movie. Some of the Danganronpa characters are invited to play in an escape room, but find that if they don't solve the puzzles in time the consequences are deadly. Not only that, but each of the rooms are deliberately designed to invoke past traumas of each of the characters. My main motivation? High stress Ishimondo.

YES. 100% yes. You don't know how much I crave action/adventure Ishimondo. Yes domestic fluff is sweet, yes the death game can be intense. But there's something special about people having to actively fight for their lives together, and solving murders just doesn't hit the same.

So yeah I like the idea, it almost gives me YTTD vibes (for those who don't know, Your Turn To Die is like DR but you win puzzles or die. I love it)

(If you're interested, there's a fic that kinda fits this idea. It's Beyond Despair. It's basically "everyone who dies comes back and now they have to do puzzles to survive. I'll try not to take too much inspiration from it for this concept)

But yeah I love this idea. I think things like this do best with smaller groups, so here's an idea: Leon, Hiro, Chihiro, Mondo, and Taka go to an Escape Room over the summer for Mondo's birthday. Then surprise! It's all death trap filled.

Just trying to think of potential rooms on the spot...I warn you that I've only gone heavily into the backstories of Taka and Mondo when it comes to DR1, so I might be missing out on some good ideas.

Hiro has to make a bunch of predictions to stop the others from getting harmed, perhaps a form of Russian Roulette. If he predicts where the bullet is incorrectly, he ends up shooting someone. He's probably not aiming for anything vital just in case, but it would still suck.

Not sure how this relates to trauma. Maybe he messed up an important prediction, and that led to someone getting seriously hurt?

Chihiro's great issue is weakness, which he tries to overcome. So maybe his room is having to hack something with a timer, where failing to do so in time leads to everyone burning alive. It would test his mental fortitude.

Or we could go the physical strength path. Like a situation where the solution is in an area so small that only Chi can enter, but something inside has to be forcefully pulled open. So Chi has to find the strength to do it, either by outsmarting the trap, or pure strength.

Or maybe it's both? Chi has to show both mental and physical strength to pass the trial.

Mondo has his own issues with strength, not to mention his guilt for the whole Daiya thing. Maybe he gets put into a situation where he alone can solve the puzzle, but cannot act. Instead, he has to tell the others what to do.

Think something like the game Keep Talking and Nobody Explodes. The basic premise of that game is: there are two players, one with a manual, and another with a bomb. The player with the manual has to instruct the other player on how to defuse the bomb. The player with the bomb cannot see the manual.

And that would be pretty stressful for Mondo. He isn't confident in his intelligence, so having to solve the puzzle alone would already be a problem. Plus there's the fear that he'll fail his friends, that he'll mess up and get them all killed.

For Leon...I'll admit that I don't have a solid idea for him. He wants to leave baseball and become a musician, right? So I'm not really sure how to infuse that desire into his room.

Plus I don't want to make his room just "hit this target to escape" because he can probably do that really easily...But it still needs to be involved with his talent in some way.

Here's an idea. It's not ideal because I'm not sure how well it fits into his character, but at least it includes his talent in a way that won't be horribly easy for him.

The group has to play a game of baseball, Leon vs everyone else (sure the teams are uneven, but Leon's the best baseball player around, so it's fair).

The game has to end with 12 home runs (why 12? there's a dumb reason.). For each point the enemy team gets, the other team is punished somehow. Each punishment is worse than the last.

Leon is a way better player than all of them combined, so it's not about him winning. It's about him deciding who gets hurt. Does he save himself, or save the others? It's a game of selfishness vs selflessness. Not to mention a delicate balance of ensuring nobody's too hurt to keep going.

As for the punishments, we could add another layer of selfish vs selfless actions. Maybe the losing team has to decide among themselves who takes the punishment, or they can all agree to take a slightly less harmful version of it.

And Taka. I'm...not sure? His character is all about morality, but Leon's trial kind of has that covered. There's also his role as a leader, but Mondo's trial covers that. Whatever the case, I'm just going to throw out ideas.

First thought is to focus on Taka's passion and strong work ethic. Think of it as kinda the opposite of Mondo's proposed trial. Taka's placed on some kind of pedestal that leaves him about 8 inches from the ceiling. On top of the ceiling is some kind of button, just far enough away that he has to reach to touch it.

While he's up there, everyone has...some kind of puzzle to solve. I don't know what honestly, probably some moral dilemma or something to keep on theme.

Now here's the point of this trial. Around the beginning of the room, Taka's shot with like half a dose of sedative. Not enough to knock him out, but enough to make the process of reaching up to hold a button pretty hard. Whenever he isn't pressing the button, water starts filling the room. If he passes out, they all drown.

This trial places him in a position of power, as everyone is relying on him to stay strong despite the struggle he's facing. And it's the opposite of Mondo's trial because he has no agency. He can't really help solve the puzzle, all he can do is keep that button held. But it's also similar to Mondo's trial because, if he falters, everyone dies.

The downside to this option is that it has nothing to do with morality. Mondo could just as easily have this trial, since it's more about hard work and strength.

Another option is something that focuses far more on morality. I'm not sure of the details, but perhaps it's a situation where he has to decide who of his friends to hurt to help everyone escape. And he wants to find a solution that leaves everyone unharmed, but that very well might not be possible.

Or maybe something like the prisoner's dilemma? (In very basic terms, you have prisoners A and B. If A and B trust each other, they both escape. If one betrays the other, the one who betrayed escapes with some extra benefit. If both betray, both get nothing.)

In this hypothetical situation, perhaps this is the last trial, just long enough for little resentments within the group to build. For the stress of the situation to make friendship become overshadowed by self preservation. Can they really trust one another to do the right thing, or will they get betrayed?

This is more morality related, but it's also not specific to Taka. Taka doesn't play a lead role, they all do, since they all have to face the dilemma.

Final idea, and admittedly the least formed one. They’re in...some kind of puzzle, with a timer of course because we need the pressure to be one. In the room with them is someone none of them know, bound and gagged.

They can spend time trying to solve the puzzle the hard way, or they can do it the easy way. But the easy way means killing the captive (Maybe they have a key in their stomach or something). And you want to do the right thing, but there's a timer and the moral option takes so much longer.

Taka continues his role as moral compass for this trial. He has to be the one to declare if they go the easy option. If he choose it, he personality has to get the key. There's a knife provided for the task

It could feed on Taka's fears of corruption and morality. Is it better to sacrifice one to save the group? Is he being selfish for trying to save a stranger rather than his friends? Taka has a very black and white view on morality, and this trial would force him to shatter that.

It could also lead into a fear that he'll become just as corrupt as Toranosuke. After all, if he can't solve this trial without any deaths, how can he be a good man?

Honestly? While I called this one the least formed, I think I like it the most. It's a real moral dilemma.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #hiro hagakure #mondo owada #chihiro fujisaki #leon kuwata #danganrompa #also #thank yall for dealing with my slow response time #an ask tag

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Hibiscus Kisses {2}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Mild Cursing, Mild Slow Burn

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

**Slightly Pic Heavy**

Previous Chapters: 1 |

Anyone who got up and at em’ on the first day of vacation had something to prove, and you hated them. You had nothing to prove, so you kept your ass in your room and utilized the “to cabin” service. You don’t know if it was the sound of the waves from the balcony, the lull of the ship as it pushed through the water, you being physically exhausted, or if it was your emotional exhaustion that did you in. Whatever it was, you slept until it was damn near dinner time. Even then, leaving your room was not an option.

So you called for a meal to be brought to you, snuggled into the covers, and watched the available tv channels. Not wanting to watch any movies, you decided on a channel that seemed to be a mix of the animal planet, discovery channel, and a survivalist’s dream. The program that was on was something about figuring out the difference between good food and bad food. Things like this you found interesting and always watched. It wasn’t that you planned on ever needing the information but why the hell wouldn’t you be prepared for a never possibility.

When the food arrived, you were well into another program about common dangers on Caribbean islands that tourists would never know. Once you accepted the three reusable food bags, you buried yourself right back into the bed and surrounded yourself with everything you’d requested. You bet whoever prepared it thought it was for at least three people, but nope it was all yours. Vacation was about overindulging, right?

A few hours later, your phone rang. Knowing your sister’s ringtone, you answered without looking at the ID.

“You know better than not to send a message to mom before you disappear, Lulu.”

“Disappear? Lali, I am on a huge ass ship. Where am I disappearing to?”

“You know what I mean. You know if she hasn’t heard from you, then that’s just as good as disappearing,” Atali countered.

Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. Your mother was a bit much sometimes.

“I slept in.”

“All day?”

“All day,” you repeated.

“Alone?”

Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes and leaned back on the headboard.

“Lali, you do know it’s me you’re talking to, right?”

Atali giggled. “It is a vacation; excuse me for thinking you’d live a little.”

“There is living a little and living recklessly,” you dryly responded.

“Recklessly? Lulu, you’re the one who is sleeping with--.”

You loudly cleared your throat, interrupting what you knew she was going to say. Atali was always good for bringing up everything you wanted to forget.

“Jeez, Atali.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

You put another piece of cake into your mouth and moaned, savoring the strawberry and the smoothness of the cheesecake. You bit your bottom lip, and for some reason, your mind ran to the stranger you still had yet to get the name of.

“Met anyone on board?”

“Lali, I didn’t come here to meet anyone.”

“I know, but you still could have—in passing.”

You sighed and went over the details of his face. You really didn’t like men with that much facial hair, but it fit him well and easily made him look younger than he quite possibly was.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know his name, and he doesn’t matter. I did meet a woman.”

“Woman? You’ve been gone a day and already experimenting?”

You smiled and shook your head. “Shut up. Listen, she’s really cool. Her stories are classic, and she does her makeup like a goddess. You would like her, Lali.”

“She’s an older woman, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“You always attract these old-young souls.”

The two of you giggled together, but it went on for longer than just a few seconds. When you sighed out and leaned back against the headboard, you again thought of him.

“What’s your first port?”

“Dominican Republic, then Turks & Caicos, the British Virgin Islands after that then Aruba and Jamaica.”

“Jeez, you’re living life,” Atali commented.

“You have no idea. You should see this ship. They went all out times two with it. It’s just absolute luxury everywhere. I said pick me a ship. I didn’t say give me the Cleopatra treatment.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you asked me to do it,” Atali replied. “By the way, isn’t BVI and Turks and Caicos pretty close to Bermuda?”

Taking a moment to think about it, you responded, “Yeah. So?”

“So? Lulu, Bermuda,” Atali repeated.

When you didn’t speak immediately, she continued. “The Bermuda Triangle, dummy.”

Kissing your teeth, you rolled your eyes, “Oh god, you cannot be serious.”

“I am. Have you never heard that ships get lost and disappear in that area?”

“Lali, I’m sure there is a scientific explanation, and I am also sure that no one would charter a course near somewhere that they’d get lost, especially with hundreds of passengers,” you finished, confidant in your response.

The two of you talked for almost an hour before she was urging you to get out of your room and go to one of the clubs on the ship. You protested, but you knew she would not shut up about it, so you gave in though you had no interest in actually going. You spent the next hour going back and forth with your options. Most of you wanted to stay in bed or sit on the balcony and just get lost in the view, while the other knew that you’d only think of Javii if you did that.

Following a shower, you scanned your clothes. Once you found a cute dress, then applied a lite layer of makeup and did your hair, choosing to leave it down rather than putting it in a cute bun. Five or ten minutes later, you were standing in front of the entrance to one of the clubs—Jewel. The music from inside was lively, and you could imagine the number of young bodies pressing against each other, seeking a cheap thrill. Glancing from left to right, you decided to bite the bullet.

As soon as you stepped inside, you didn’t feel like you were on a ship in the middle of the ocean. It felt like it was a well established nightclub on solid ground. Whoever the DJ was, they were doing their thing, and it was evident from the bodies that littered the floor. It looked like this was where the parents came when their kids were tucked away in bed cuddling Tiana and Jasmine close. You walked through the crowds and saw plenty of couples making out and sharing drinks. Never again would you think to sleep on a Disney cruise. You thought it would be a chill time, but damn this was like parents gone wild.

After a few minutes of walking around and scoping things out, you found a place at one of the three bars.

“First Disney cruise?”

Snapping your head around, you looked at a smiling bartender with long hair that was piled on top of his head in a neat man bun.

“That obvious?”

“Let me guess, you expected tame, princess sing-a-longs, virgin pina coladas, and plenty of mickey mouse.”

The look on your face must have given you away because he was laughing a few seconds after he said it. You snorted and shook your head as you rearranged your dress and recrossed your legs.

“Fine, you got me.”

“It’s okay. I get how you’d think it was a tame little adventure. Why do you think we get so many reservations?”

“I thought it was for the kids,” you blurted out. It was his turn to laugh.

“Silly rabbit, while Disney is for kids, what happens after those kids lay their pretty little heads is a whole other story.”

Glancing around once more, you made a mental note never to make the mistake again. Disney cruises were probably as raunchy as Carnival or those geared toward singles. At that thought, you began to wonder how many swingers were on board, and if this was a swinger’s playground.

“What can I get you?”

“Something strong so my innocent mind can adjust.”

The bartender chuckled to himself as he walked around, preparing your drink. You bopped to the music and looked around again. Now it made sense to you when the mom of two who was preggo with her third said these cruises always gave her just what she needed. You bet they did—three fucking kids. Your mind was blown.

When the bartender slid your drink to you, he smiled and slipped away to serve the others. That was when you turned back around to people watch. There was no way you were going to dance with any of them. after a few sips of your drink, you saw him across the way. He was sitting at one of the other bars watching the dancefloor as you were. His hat was gone, and it showed you that his hair was long. The lights were too dim to make out much else, but what you couldn’t make out, you quickly filled in from your other encounter.

Before you realized your glass was empty, your eyes met and lingered on each other for several long moments. The only reason you looked away was because of the passing people who got in the way. When you looked back, his eyes weren’t on yours anymore, they were looking lower, but it was unclear if he was looking at you or someone on the dancefloor. Shaking it off, you spun around and requested another drink.

As you waited, you scrolled through your phone and did your best to fight the urge to check his social media. Javii wasn’t huge on social media. He preferred to have his team handle his brand's social side, but he did have a secret one that not many knew about. There he posted things that interested him, showed his lifestyle and his passions. It was also where he posted his “thirst traps.” You knew that if you went on, you’d find one or two, and you knew the caption was going to be code for you. You doubted you were mentally prepared enough for that psychological minefield.

“What can I get you, sir?”

“Another beer, please.”

The deep voice beside you had your finger pausing before you tapped the circle with Javii’s picture that indicated he’d made a new story. When you looked next to you there, he was again. The dim and colored lights in the room gave you a new appreciation of his eyes. It was at this moment you knew he got a lot of attention from women. With eyes like those, how could he not? He looked at you and smiled, and that sold it for you. His teeth were perfect, and though his smile made the wrinkles at the sides of his eyes more prominent, it also made his face light up. He looked like a kind man--a gentle one perhaps.

“Either you’re following me around, or we’d call this fate.”

You couldn’t help but smile. The cocky on him was so strong. It was a familiar cocky.

“Or you’re following me around. You’re the one who bumped into me twice,” you countered.

“Eh, I was the one doing the catching, so it’s more feasible that you’re following me.”

He wore a soft grin, one that you mirrored.

“Maybe if you weren’t like a brick wall, you wouldn’t have to catch me.”

“I’m not complaining,” he responded. You stared at him and quickly got his meaning. Again, you couldn’t help but smile. Not only was he cocky, but he was charming, you thought.

You finished your drink with one raise of your hand. When you lowered your glass, you watched as he raked his fingers through his hair, bringing it full out of his face. It was then you recognized him.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Now I know where I’ve seen you from.”

He looked confused. “Now? You didn’t know this whole time?”

“No. You looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you.”

The look on his face was a lite one. He softly scoffed and raised his bottle to his head, and took a few gulps of his beer. When he lowered it, he spoke again.

“That’s refreshing. I’m not used to people not recognizing me.”

“That must suck. I couldn’t imagine living my life under suck a microscope,” you said without thinking. When you realized what you’d said, you glanced at him and tried to backtrack.

“Uh—what I mean is--.”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I’m Chris,” he replied, holding out his hand to you. When you touched his hand, you were surprised by how soft they were. He’d never used them for manual labor a day in his life, you thought.

“Ajali,” you responded.

“Aja—li, he slowly repeated, trying to mirror how you said it.

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s a beautiful name, very unique,” Chris noted.

“Thank you.”

“What do your friends call you, Aja?”

You looked at him after raising your hand to the bartender, signaling you’d like another.

“Why? Are we friends?”

Chris smiled and dipped his head down, making his hair fall into his face. He looked good with long hair and this grizzly beard combo. Again, he raked his fingers through his hair before he looked at you.

“We can be. We can be good friends if you like.”

Searching his eyes, you tried to find evidence in there to match the flirtatious tone of his voice.

“What if my husband isn’t into that?”

Chris smiled and turned his body to you. “You don’t have a husband. From the first time we bumped into each other, I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring, nor do you have any tan lines to signify you’re hiding one.”

Raising your eyebrow, you allowed his words to sink in. “I could have--,” you began.

“—Kids? Nah, you were alone the first time outside and again on the deck when I passed you and the night in the dining room and even at the show.”

He’d been watching you.

“No, I’m not stalking you, I promise,” Chris quickly spoke up. “Plus, even if you had kids, it wouldn’t matter. I like kids—they like me.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. When you got your drink, you took a long sip.

“So you’re alone here on this family Disney cruise. That alone deserves a question,” Chris continued.

“It does. You’re also alone on this same family Disney cruise,” you countered. Chris nodded and took another sip of his beer before he leaned closer to you.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he whispered.

There was no way you were going to divulge personal information to a stranger, no matter if he were Captain America. You spun to face him, then uncrossed your legs to recross them. His eyes dropped to your thighs, and that told you what you needed to know. He was on this cruise for hookups. Scoffing, you finished your drink.

“Your eyes just told me yours.” You slipped off the barstool and stood before him, leaning in just a little. “I hear Disney cruises are the place to be for after dark entanglements, and you’re in the right place. Have a good night.”

You walked away, not giving him a chance to respond. Instead of moving to another bar, you decided to leave. You’d heard plenty of rumors and stories of Chris Evans and his booty calls, and you were not impressed. He was clearly here for easy, strings free sex. You’d heard more than you needed to about how he met his hook up buddies and just not was textbook. You were not here to be another notch in his bedpost.

-The Next Day-

-The Dominican Republic, 11:10 am

As you walked through the ship, everyone was abuzz with excitement for the first port. You were also excited but not to disembark like everyone else. You’d been to the Dominican Republic plenty of times and had no intention of going out today. You had a plan, and it was to soak up the quiet and empty ship. You wanted to get a spa treatment, a massage, and soak in the hot tub or the steam room and allow the essential oils to work their magic on the tension coursing through your body.

“Attention passengers, we are officially docked. I’d like to be the first to welcome you to the beautiful Dominican Republic. As you disembark, a reminder that we will be leaving port promptly at ten o'clock. Please be on time, ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy your days.”

While everyone was walking in one direction, you were walking in the opposite. Everyone was decked out in their beachwear and sunscreen, and you could tell these kids planned on swimming every inch of that beach. The ride on the elevator was a quick one because you were going lower than everyone else. The spa was on the first level below water. The pamphlet advertised it as being one with the sea thanks to the unmatched view of the ocean and life under the sea. You were excited.

Once you got to the spa entrance, you smiled, seeing that it was completely empty.

“Welcome to Aqua Spa. My name is Vikki.”

“Hi. Am I the only one?”

“You are the first here. Between you and me, I don’t expect many guests being the first port and all,” the blond wearing a sea blue uniform said.

“Excellent.”

“Have you reserved?”

“Yes, Ajali Rambaue.”

You watched her scan the computer screen before her. It didn’t take her long to smile again.

“Ms. Rambaue, welcome. I see you’ve booked the clearing treatment, a gold facial followed by the milk and rose oil bath,” Nikki listed.

Just her listing off your treats had you even more excited. Nodding, you confirmed. She returned your smile and ushered you through the spa. You could already see the blue hue from the portholes, and it bathed the entire spa in the same blue. It felt as if you were gliding underwater, completely immersed with the other creatures.

“Right this way.” You followed her into the room and gasped. The entire room was completely blue, and the sight before you through the clear window was breathtaking.

“Incredible, isn’t it? I guess you can see why they named her Enchantment.”

Maybe Lali’s splurge wasn’t so bad, you thought.

“So, the clearing treatment is an intricate one. You can change behind this screen as I prepare the room for you and your therapist,” Nikki explained.

You stepped behind the glass screen that immediately frosted once you were behind it, then began undressing and listened to her explain the treatment.

“Not only is it an incredible treatment, but it stretches to about three hours from start to finish. World-renowned masseuses and acupuncturist Jadenna Sole designed it. He aimed for it to restore the body’s balance. It does this through a mixture of Eastern and European techniques.”

When you stepped out, you were wrapped in the towel and sighed, seeing the newly lit candles that warmed the room. If you were doing a couple’s massage, this would have been the perfect atmosphere.

“It begins with a full-body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian Kama oil. After your therapist will perform a lymph system massage, and that will prep the body for your Swedish massage. After that, then your body will be wrapped in neem black clay, and you’ll sit and allow it to seep into your pores. Then you’ll rinse and sit in your milk and rose oil bath to then rinse again, and the finishing touch would be an intricate blend of oils and herbs rubbed into your skin that will help your chakras realign,” Nikki finished.

You were impressed as hell. You’d never expect a treatment like this on a cruise. It was more something for Manhattan among the rich. As you got comfortable on the table, you could hardly contain your excitement. When your massage therapist arrived and introduced herself as Marta, you prepared yourself to be shot into space. Massages were your thing. Lali joked that massages were your love language.

When Marta began the exfoliation process, it was relaxing enough for you to nearly fall asleep. You hadn’t realized how tense you were these last few days. You blamed Javii. It was all his fault. After twenty or so minutes, Marta rinsed you then really got started with the massage, all the while putting her back into it. She was a lot stronger than she looked. The pressure was perfect, and the scents from the oils were sublime. In no time, you were drifting from the ground into the sky.

After an hour, your mind was completely blank, and the knot between your shoulder blades was nearly gone. Marta made a few comments on how tense your muscles were and gave pointers on how to prevent locked muscles. You listened as she spoke and tried to retain the information, but you were too distracted with how relaxed you felt. By the time two hours had passed, your muscles were putty, and Marta was now on your gold facial.

This wasn’t the first time you’d gotten one. You and Lali often got them together as part of your sisters day. They were good for your complexion and elasticity. Your mother often stressed that collagen loved you when you were young but liked to play hide and seek the older you got and that you should cherish it and do all you could to maintain your healthy skin. You and Lali listened. After Marta finished applying the mask, you laid back and listened to the sounds of the classical music playing and drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke, it was time to wipe the concoction off and dip into your milk and rose oil bath. The warmth of the mixture had you moaning. There was something so luxurious about lounging in milk like you were an Egyptian queen that had you feeling like a boss. The mask that was applied to your hair was slowly hardening, so you fought the urge to dip your head back. Instead, you leaned back onto the cushions and sighed again.

The silence in the room was just what you needed. Any stress you’d been feeling was a distant memory now. This was just what you needed, you thought.

“Who knew milk and rose oil could be so relaxing.”

Your eyes snapped open as you looked from side to side, trying to see if someone was beside you. The tub pods were empty, and from what you could see, you were alone.

“I’m glad I took Nikki’s recommendation for this over the peppermint soak,” the voice spoke again. You recognized it. Spinning around, you saw a bare back behind yours. He was close enough to touch.

Chris turned around to face you. His face was painted with a mask, only keeping his eyes and lips visible. You quickly forgot your state of undress, but you somehow knew of his. Your eyes dipped down to his bare shoulders and the hair that laid across his chest. You saw a peek of two and a possible third tattoo, and your curiosity piqued.

“Fancy seeing you here, Ajali,” Chris said as his eyes dropped lower. You looked lower on yourself to see your breasts almost out of the milk enough for him to see some nipple. Quickly you sunk down and turned back around, facing your back to him.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Same as you.” You sighed and hugged your legs to your body.

“Shouldn’t they have men in a separate room or something?”

“I’ve seen a naked woman before,” Chris informed with a scoff. You turned around from the tone of his voice.

“I bet you have. You’ve seen plenty naked women.”

Chris turned to face you with his brows knitted together as if he fully got your meaning.

“Just what are you insinuating?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Are you suggesting that I came on this cruise to sleep with unassuming women?”

You shrugged and turned back around, keeping your back straight.

“Wow, that’s insulting. Where do you get off?”

You remained quiet. He must have taken your silence as more judgment because he spoke again.

“I didn’t come on this cruise to snake myself into someone’s bed. I came because I needed a change of pace, some breathing room. Hollywood gets confining, and the more confining it gets, the more I feel like I’m—suffocating.”

Slowly you turned to look at him. His back was turned so you trailed your eyes over the exposed skin of his back and saw peeks of more tattoos. The man was getting sexier with each passing minute. His shoulders were broad and looked incredibly strong. The low light in the room didn’t help you see anything else, but you could more than imagine everything else.

“So, the confines of a ship wouldn’t feel suffocating?”

Chris turned to look at you.

“There is Hollywood confinement and this. This is not confinement. I have freedom here; I’m not watched like a hawk. Yeah, someone will recognize me here or there, but they are so respectful. For the most part, it is always quick. Plus, I don’t mind talking to the kids.”

This was the second time he brought up kids, you thought.

“Plus, now I’ve met someone who seems to have no problem telling me I’m a whore.”

Immediately you snorted loudly then laughed. “I never called you that.”

“Hinted at it is just the same as saying the words,” Chris accused.

You smiled and sighed, and your eyes lingered on his.

“It’s refreshing again. A lot of women will say what they think I want to hear or be how they think I want them to be.

“Not me.”

“Not you.”

It was said in unison. Once both of you realized what you’d said, you laughed together.

“It must be something having women fawn all over you.”

Chris shrugged, and again your eyes fell to his shoulders, and that is where they remained.

“Something is the word. It gets old, though—real quick.”

When your eyes met again, he held your gaze. “I’m sure men fawn all over you too.”

You took a deep breath and sighed out. “I’m sure they don’t.”

Chris snorted and gave you a “yeah right” look.

“I’m sure you’re full of shit. You’re a beautiful woman.” His eyes dropped below your face again, but they quickly came back up.

You turned your back to him again and stared into the milk and oil concoction. He wasn’t wrong, though he wasn’t right either. Men didn’t fawn over you. Yeah, you got attention from men a lot but to go as far as saying they fawned over you was a stretch. You didn’t notice any man besides Javii for the last three years.

“This is supposed to be a relaxing spa day for me. Maybe we should cut the talking out and just enjoy the rest of it,” you suggested, a little salty he’d reminded you of what you’d come to forget.

“Sure thing,” Chris softly answered.

The two of you remained in your separate bath pods without speaking one more word. However, you were aware of his body and every move he made. His body gave off this energy that felt like your body reached out for. So instead of fully relaxing, you’d spent the time fighting the sway of your body or the urge to slink closer.

An hour later, you were in your clothes again and feeling ten times better than when you’d walked in. You thanked the staff and gave a generous tip, then left. When you got into the elevator, you leaned on the wall and sighed. As the doors closed, a hand stretched out, preventing it from closing. Chris then stepped onto the elevator with that stupid grin.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he joked as he pressed the six that was already lit up.

“Is six your floor too?”

“Maybe.” He nodded and leaned on the wall beside you.

The two of you rode the elevator and looked outside the glass enclosure to the ship and even the ocean outside.

“They did a fantastic job with the ship. Even though you’re not on an island right now, you feel like it’s still a tropical vacation.”

You nodded, agreeing with him.

“Do you come on Disney cruises often?”

You shook your head. “No. This is a first.”

Chris lit up and smiled widely. “Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve met a first-timer.”

“I take it you’re not.”

“Nope, veteran. I come on a cruise at least once a year and go to Disneyworld and land twice a year,” Chris excitedly bragged.

“Oh, a little boy trapped in a grown man’s body,” you teased.

Chris chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Eh, nothing wrong with being a little boy.”

“Only if you aren’t that way because you refuse to grow up,” you responded. Chris looked at you and kept his eyes there. The ding of the elevator brought your attention back to the dial.

“Six.”

You walked out the door, then turned left and proceeded to your room, wondering the whole way if that was a bitch thing to say. You had to learn to censor, you thought as you scanned your wrist and stepped into your room. Peeping back, you saw Chris still walking to his room with his head dipped low as if he’d lost his best friend.

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

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#hibiscus kisses fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction

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absynthe--minded · 3 years

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The Consent discourse regarding the sex scenes?

oh boy this is gonna be a long one.

tl;dr up front: MDZS is a romance novel, and I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and I think it handles its consent issues way better than a solid 95% of the other books in this genre that I’ve bothered to go through cover to cover. that being said, nobody should ever have to feel like they need to defend or tolerate something that triggered them, or upset them, or hurt them in some way, and I am absolutely fully in favor of these issues being discussed and talked about in a way that warns people they’re there. I am fully in support of anybody who doesn’t like the book because of the presence of dubiously consensual sex. that’s a super legit reason to be uncomfortable or triggered or upset. I’m also not ever going to say that not liking dubcon in a story is a bad thing. my frustration with the consent discourse is basically that I feel like it’s a conversation being held by people who aren’t familiar with romance as a genre, or with the places where MDZS rises above other romance novels, as well as a conversation that ignores that romance uses sex as a narrative device and a metaphor and not just as an idealized portrayal of true love.

more below the cut - tw: discussions of rape, dubcon, and consent in fiction.

I’m not a scholar of romance novels the way I’m a scholar of Tolkien, so I can’t really trace the development of trends in the genre, but I do read a lot of romance, because I’m a lesbian and I like urban fantasy and historical fiction and stories about women having fun adventures and getting what they want, and romance novels are an easy way to get those things as fast as possible. most of my observations are in this kind of fannish capacity.

but. romance has a consent problem, and it’s had a consent problem as long as the genre has existed.

this isn’t the post for a long drawn-out exploration of things like “how many humans on average tend to have rape fantasies?” or “why is it a statistical average that most people are bottomy in their sexual fantasies, rape or otherwise?” but one of the things that I think is worth bringing up wrt MDZS and WangXian is that constrained consent or a lack of consent and how the characters react to that is often endemic to romance as a genre. and I’m not just talking about sex scenes, either (though we’ll get to the 80s bodice rippers, I promise)

you’ve got plots like “My shitbag father fucked over an angsty rich guy so he’s keeping me hostage in his mansion and I’m not allowed to leave” (Anne Stuart, Night of the Phantom) or “I was going to be executed for stealing food but the local lord took pity on me and brought me to his house explicitly to be his wife and I’ll be expected to sleep with him whether I like it or not” (Amanda Ashley, Beauty’s Beast) or “I’m the heir to a substantial percentage of England in terms of sheer amount of land and I’m an orphan and the King has to marry me off to someone who’s both popular with the common people and strong enough to fend off attempts to seize my assets” (Kinley Macgregor, A Dark Champion). you’ve also got the eternal urban fantasy plot of “I’m a normal human woman/human-seeming woman with Power I Didn’t Know About who saw something forbidden to mortal eyes/otherwise became a target of the bad guys, so now I’m being held against my will by a brooding angsty magical creature so he can Protect Me”. that one is actually worse than a lot of the others because the woman in the standard urban fantasy plot usually tries to escape or constantly talks about how she’s being kept hostage, and it’s intended to be a signpost to the audience that she’s not a weak and passive damsel in distress but that she has Backbone and Intelligence and all that.

all of these are, on some level, about the main character(s) being placed in situations they didn’t consent to, and how they cope with that. (a lot of the time there’s also really clumsily written Threats To The Heroine’s Virtue from a cartoonishly unrealistic would-be rapist, in addition to whatever else is going on. the amount of times that I’ve read a book where a hero all too happy to dubcon his way into the woman’s bed then turns around and saves her from Evil Snidely Whiplash Rapist as a way of proving he’s a good person underneath... sigh.) and a lot of other plots are that way too! the Consent Discourse about MDZS is tapping into a conversation that’s existed wrt romance as a whole for a long time.

here’s why I think MDZS is different from basically every other romance novel: it knows it’s about consent.

the vast majority of the stories I alluded to up there really don’t seem to know that they’re dealing with a plot that centers around the heroine (and sometimes hero) coping with a loss of autonomy. she winds up being totally happy to be held hostage, or married off to some stranger, or protected by a brooding angsty dark magic man, or bound up in destiny and fated to fall in love. the violation of her consent is the framework for getting her in the same environment as her love interest, and we-the-audience are supposed to accept it as - well, if not okay, then acceptable, because it’ll all work out in the end. (there’s a lot of sometimes-unintentional commentary here about how specifically AFAB people in Western societies are often expected to deal with/make the best of/find happiness in situations outside of their control, but that’s also for another post, perhaps.) MDZS doesn’t do that. MDZS addresses the fact that neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji have been taught how to effectively communicate with one another, and their failings have consequences.

Lan Wangji ambushes WWX and kisses him while he’s blindfolded. This is done without permission, and without WWX even knowing who it is that’s put him in this position. He then goes on to treat it like one of his most egregious moral failings, and lose confidence in his ability to be honorable when it comes to dealing with WWX, and this matters to the story. LWJ viewing what he did as more or less unforgivable means he doesn’t open up to WWX about his feelings, which means WWX has no clue LWJ loves him. And as one of the many consequences to this, they spend the majority of the book married but one party has no idea it’s actually happened! They blunder around, and refuse to acknowledge how they feel, and need alcohol for any semblance of honesty because it breaks down their inhibitions. They almost completely fail at being a couple because when it comes down to brass tacks they cannot spit it out.

this lack of openness and lack of communication manifests in their lives further when it comes to the various dubiously consensual moments of intimacy that they have. their sexual incompatibility is a direct consequence of their failure to talk. they do have problems, and when those problems come to light, they’re meaningful and impactful. there is dubious consent in the first time they have sex, in their making out, in their near misses and their brief meetings. this is the point. they’re not supposed to be a healthy, functional relationship yet. they have sex for the first time and then have to deal with the fact that it happened under false pretenses and due to miscommunication. the theme of the book is learning how to come together and work together. they have to learn to communicate before their dysfunction is fixed.

and they do! the climax of the book is WWX admitting his feelings for LWJ, and LWJ realizing the depth of their miscommunication, and both of them coming together finally. the theme of this book is made manifest in their healing and joining. and only then can they have a true healthy marriage. and I like that? I like that the problems and the issues matter, and that both parties have to resolve it? I also like that just because WWX liked being kissed doesn’t mean his consent wasn’t violated and that this transgression doesn’t matter, because that’s in stark contrast to the 1980s bodice rippers where the heroine can be basically sexually assaulted or raped but it’s totally fine, she secretly enjoyed it so it doesn’t matter. (there’s yet another post I could make here about how this is a direct response to sexual mores harshly applied to women, where the only way they could feel safe admitting their desires was in situations where resistance was impossible, but that’s not for here)

I’m just one person, and this is a lot of text about consent, but ultimately? I like that MDZS deals with these issues realistically. I like that violation and miscommunication and unintentional deception are all weighty and meaningful.

this is one of the most realistic-feeling romance novels I’ve ever read, and its flawed characters that are supposed to be flawed are part of that.

#replies #anon replies #mdzs #I'm still a Tolkien blog I promise

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