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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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the nie sect is known for strong, angry sect leaders and strong, angry women; nie mingjue is just the first to be both. she refuses to let this burden fall on her little brother, who is far too young for it (he's barely old enough to understand that their father is dead, and still sucks his thumb at night)--she can swing a saber like the best of them, and, well... it's not like there are many nie elders to object anyway

also on ao3

The stories said that Nie Mingjue’s mother was a goddess.

They said she descended down from the mountains, crisp as a winter breeze and tall as a temple statute; they said Lao Nie fell in love with her the first moment he saw her and married her the next; they said that the heavens were jealous of their love and summoned her to return –

It was a little nicer than saying that Nie Mingjue’s mother was a rogue cultivator that lingered in Qinghe just long enough for a marriage ceremony and a baby before remembering that she preferred living alone.

Still, as Nie Mingjue grew up – and she did grow up, up and up and up – people started passing around the old story more and more. Lao Nie rolled his eyes but didn’t stop the rumors, which Nie Mingjue interpreted to mean that he thought they were useful somehow, though she never quite figured out the reasoning there. What difference did it make if she were the child of a goddess or a mortal woman?

Either way, she was still a girl.

Oh, Qinghe was famous for its indifference to such things: in Qinghe they don’t care if you’re a man or woman, the story went, as long as you can swing a saber, and it was even mostly true. No one would raise an eyebrow if you shared your bed with a man one night and a woman the next, no one cared if you said you were one for a week and the other for a month…

Still, for all of Qinghe’s indifference, the Nie sect had never had a female sect leader.

At least, not officially – there were a number of sect leader’s wives who were terrifying enough to have deserved the title – and officially was what mattered, in this case. The sect leader was the fulcrum on which the sect turned, the core of their fearsome cultivation: if water ran downhill, then evil flowed up, and the sect leader’s saber spirit was always by far the fiercest in the sect.

That was why Nie Mingjue’s ancestors died so much more quickly than her cousins – why she had plenty of great-uncles and great-aunts, and a family consisting of only her father, herself, and her younger brother.

“Do you not want me to be sect leader?” she asked her father once, because he had deliberately gone out and gotten himself a new wife to have a child with, showing great relief when it turned out to be a boy. “Is it something I’ve done, or haven’t done?”

“It’s not that,” her father had said at once, with such surety that her fears of inadequacy had been relieved. “It’s only – there are sacrifices that must be made, if the sect leader is a woman. A saber spirit powerful enough to support the sect cannot be allowed to escape.”

She hadn’t understood it at the time, being too young, but then she got a little older and started bleeding, and an old auntie came and told her why the bleeding mattered.

The sect leader’s saber was too strong, too fierce, too alive: full of resentful energy, almost like a ghost, hateful and vicious, and their bond with their master was too close. Normal swords could be used by anyone; only the powerful refused any hand but their masters – the powerful, and the Nie sabers.

A sect leader who was a woman could never have a child, lest that child’s soul be stolen away in the womb and replaced with something else.

“So I won’t have children,” Nie Mingjue said, when her father died before his time. “Easy enough.”

There were elders enough in her sect, those that had been lucky enough not to be part of the main clan line and to escape the burden of being sect leader; they looked at each other with concern.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t about to let them put the title of sect leader on Huaisang, then only a child of seven, not when there was her father to avenge, and so she reached up behind her back and brought Baxia down on the table in front of them, cleaving the old wooden table in half.

“I have the bloodline, and my saber’s strong enough to bear the strain,” she said while they stared: that table had survived more than a few of her father and grandfather’s strikes, only to yield to hers as if it were nothing. “If you want to protest, challenge me now.”

In the end, they didn’t.

And so she became sect leader.

The sacrifice of any future children turned out to be the easy part.

Jin Guangshan stared at her breasts whenever she sat across from him, and tried to stumble into her to take advantage of the fact that the top of his head only reached her chin; she made sure never to accept any invitation to ever be alone with him, especially when he was drunk. His wife glared at her as if it were her fault that her chest and hips had grown proportionate with the rest of her, giving her curves that were relatively rare among her countrymen.

Jiang Fengmian might have been all right, she supposed, if his wife hadn’t hated her nearly as much: Madame Yu had been childhood friends with Madame Jin, Nie Mingjue vaguely recalled, but she suspected the real reason was the Jiang sect’s inclination to keep women away from politics no matter how high their cultivation.

“How are you supposed to ‘attempt the impossible’ if you refuse to let half of your population even try?” she asked Jiang Fengmian once, and he just shook his head and tried to pat her head (she glared death at him until he retracted the offending limb before it could be chopped off), and said she wouldn’t understand, that Qinghe was too idiosyncratic, too indiscriminate, that other places were different.

(His daughter gave Nie Mingjue a flower after that meeting, blushing red to her ears, and followed it up with a bowl of soup, and to this day Nie Mingjue still didn’t know if it was because of what she’d said or if everyone in Yunmeng was just as indiscriminate as Qinghe and they just didn’t admit it to themselves.)

Even the ever-polite Lan sect wasn’t friendly.

The irritating part was that she was sure they would have gotten on well if she had been born a man, or at least presented as one, as she would have if she’d been a misaligned reincarnation; alas, she wasn’t, she was a woman, and the Lan sect rules dictated that men and women could not grow too close or intimate. Lan Qiren guarded his nephews against her as if they were treasures, and it took quite a while before she finally met Lan Xichen face to face.

“Wow,” he said, blinking at her. “They weren’t kidding when they said you were a goddess.”

“No, that’s my mother,” Nie Mingjue said automatically.

Lan Xichen smiled, his eyes turning into crescents. “No,” he said. “I’m sure I meant what I said.”

Nie Mingjue felt something jump in her chest, which had never happened before. But she had fought long and hard to be taken seriously as a sect leader despite her youth and her gender, and she wasn’t willing to give that up by falling, like every other female cultivator her age, for the man ranked first on the list of most attractive young masters.

(Nie Mingjue was ranked seventh. She’s not even sure how she got on the list, but apparently there were plenty of female cultivators who were happy to vote for her no matter her gender.)

Besides, even if her heart did beat a little faster whenever Lan Xichen smiled at her, and even if he indicated through some hints that he might be inclined to feel the same, it didn’t matter. She knew, even if he didn’t, that she wouldn’t bear children in this life – she loved Baxia dearly, she did, but her willful, vicious saber would make a terrible child – and she couldn’t impose that on anyone else.

Anyway, she’d figured out pretty quickly that Lan Xichen’s younger brother was a cutsleeve – whatever Lan Qiren might think, pornography was a perfectly reasonable gift for a teenager, especially given how successful Nie Huaisang’s side business was – and that meant Lan Xichen had to be the one to have descendants.

Nie Mingjue had heard all the stories about what happens when a man marries one woman who can’t give him children and another who can, and she wasn’t interested in that.

So they were friends.

She wasn’t sure if it got easier or harder when she met Meng Yao, who was small and delicate and scheming in a way that she found ridiculously endearing.

He wasn’t expecting her to be a woman, she thought: he’d set himself up on a mountain path, buckets of water at his side and a pitiful expression on his face as he chewed on hard bread without even taking a sip of the water right beside him to wet his throat, and when she’d stopped right in front of him to ask him about it he’d looked up at her and his eyes had gotten to be half the size of his face.

Nie Mingjue might’ve fallen for the gambit if it wasn’t for the way she could almost see the way he was rapidly reevaluating his entire strategy in real time – it almost made her nostalgic about listening to her cousins teach each other the warning signs of a white lotus seductress selling misery and purity.

Still, in the end it didn’t really matter if he was deliberately exaggerating his misery to sell it to her – the responsibility for good behavior was on the bully, not the victim, so she went and scolded the people inside the cave.

Afterwards, she took him out to walk with her.

“I’d already spoken with some people about you; it seems like you’ve established your merits in the battlefield and off,” she told him. “You don’t also need to be pitiful to get my attention.”

Meng Yao smiled self-depreciatingly. “I find that men have a soft spot for people they think need them.”

“Well, I’m not a man, am I?” she pointed out in return. She thought about it for a moment, then decided, as always, to be blunt. “I might spend most of my time now with men, but I spent my childhood with women; a woman’s tricks don’t work that well on me. What is it that you want?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“Do you want to be my deputy? I’m willing, since you seem competent enough,” she said. “But if your goal is to get back into your father’s good graces by reporting on me, don’t bother. He has spies enough for that – he doesn’t need a son to do it.”

“Perhaps I just want to show him what I’m capable of,” Meng Yao said.

Nie Mingjue laughed. “At my side? If you’d like to try, I’m not going to stop you, but I’ll tell you now that the merits that Jin Guangshan values may not be to your taste.”

She made him her deputy, and he lived up to her expectations – he was efficient, capable, competent. He was good at understanding people, which she wasn’t, and he could figure out within moments what any given person wanted. Just as importantly, he lived up to the principles she prized, valuing the lives of the common folk as well as Nie cultivators; he did what she asked of him, and he did it well.

It would be a shame to lose him, she thought, but she still brought him with her to a wartime meeting with the Jin sect.

Afterwards, she made her excuses to leave early, as she always did, and when Meng Yao showed up later that evening to drop off the usual round of spies’ reports, Nie Mingjue could smell blood from where his nails had pierced his palms.

“He asked you if you were fucking me,” she said, accepting the papers. It wasn’t a guess. “You can tell him that you are, if you think it would help your standing with him.”

Meng Yao seemed repulsed by her suggestion, which amused her.

“Don’t you mind that half the camp thinks I got my position by climbing into your bed?” he asked her, a wrinkle in his brow suggesting that the question mattered to him. “Most of them can’t decide if I’m your boy-toy or merely stupid enough not to notice that I’m deliberately seducing you for my own ends, but either way the implication is highly unflattering. Don’t you care?”

“…not really?” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve been sect leader since I was fifteen and more than half the sect leaders that currently report to me have been treating me like I’m a walking collection of fuckable female body parts since then; they get extremely irritable any time I open my mouth and remind them I’m not. Keeping a boy-toy is positively tame compared to the rest of it…you must have heard the one that says that I’m a frigid bitch that can only be satisfied by fucking my saber? That one’s a perennial.”

Meng Yao’s expression suggested he had, in fact, heard that one.

“My father always told me that the more people talk behind your back, the harder you have to work to leave them with nothing to say,” Nie Mingjue continued. “But I’ve found that they’ll find something to say, and if there isn’t anything, they’ll make something up. There’s no way to stop gossip.”

Meng Yao was frowning. “That seems unduly pessimistic. Not to borrow our enemies’ words, but if you shine like a sun in the heavens –”

“I’m the sect leader of one of the Great Sects,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m a war hero. I have a reputation as a upright and righteous person. And yet between me and Wen Ruohan, who’s to say whose name is dragged through the mud more? They curse at him as the man who ordered the rape of their wives in one breath and talk eagerly about how much they’d like to rape me the next…Meng Yao, don’t take insult when I say this, but you could be as wise as a sage, as powerful as a landslide, as beneficent as a buddha and they’d still ask each other behind their sleeves what you learned from being a whore’s son.”

His expression was rather ugly – nothing at all like his usual calm smile.

“I usually get over it by associating myself with better people,” she added. “Have you met Lan Xichen yet?”

It turned out he had, and that they were rather fond of each other, too. Very fond, to judge by Meng Yao’s starry-eyed expression, and wouldn’t it be just her luck if the two men she was attracted to – and which she’d refused on the basis of not wanting to cut off their family lines – ended up pairing up together, which would also cut off their family lines?

Of course, Meng Yao was off limits for other reasons as well…

One day she overheard them talking about Meng Yao possibly leaving, probably intentionally on Meng Yao’s part, and she walked inside rolling her eyes already. “If you want to go, go,” she said. “I’ll write you a recommendation letter, for whatever it’s worth – he’s got a thick enough face that it might not do you any good, but he’s already noticed you, so hopefully that’ll be something.”

“Sect Leader Nie –”

“I didn’t promote you out of a sense of gratitude,” she said impatiently. “You’ve always wanted to get back to him, for whatever reason; I’m not going to hold you back.”

He smiled at that, and Lan Xichen smiled with him.

Really, there were limits to the sort of things you could expect a person to resist, even with willpower like hers.

“Have you decided that you will go?” she asked Meng Yao. “Is it your final decision? Let me know now.”

“It is.”

“Good,” she said. “You’re fired as my deputy. Also, I’d like to take the two of you to bed, if you’re similarly inclined.”

They gaped at her.

“What?” she said, crossing her arms. “He’s not my deputy anymore, there’s nothing immoral about it. Besides, nobody will get any stupid ideas about marriage if there’s three of us involved. It is only if you’re interested, though; I won’t be offended if you say no –”

Lan Xichen was kissing her before she even finished the sentence, so she assumed the answer was not, in fact, no, and Meng Yao’s reaction was equally enthusiastic – though perhaps equally wasn’t the right word, given how both she and Meng Yao ended up tied up in Lan Xichen’s forehead ribbon before the night was done.

“I knew it was a kink,” Meng Yao said, inspecting it with an expression of satisfaction, as if he hadn’t just demonstrated a fair share of his own. “Something so prominently displayed, Xichen-gege, for shame…”

Lan Xichen didn’t show so much as a hint of shame about it. “We’ll have to do this again,” he said. “I’m not even a fourth of the way down my list.”

“There’s a list?” Nie Mingjue asked, stretching out her legs to see how they felt after all that tossing around. “Tell me this is written down somewhere – no, tell me your uncle found it.”

Lan Xichen shuddered. “Thank you, da-jie. I didn’t need that mental image – it’d be like the time you gave Wangji pornography, only worse.”

Meng Yao decided the best way to muffle his laughter was in Nie Mingjue’s shoulder. With his teeth.

Nie Mingjue gave him a half-hearted shove. “Get off,” she grumbled. “I need to go drink some medicine to prevent contraception before we encounter disaster – this wasn’t planned, you know. I was intending on dying a virgin.”

“Da-jie, for you to die a virgin, that would mean – uh – that would – you were…? Mingjue!”

Nie Mingjue gave them both a glare. “Don’t tell me you two listened to those stupid rumors. I don’t take just anyone to my bed.”

“And you decided on two of us?” Meng Yao said, blinking at her. “Da-jie is very ambitious.”

“Not as much as you,” she said, rolling her eyes and pushing away their grasping hands. “What’s your real plan, anyway? You know Jin Guangshan won’t accept you as a son just because you show up and volunteer.”

“I don’t need to be his son, I just need to wear his colors,” Meng Yao said. “It’ll make for a better story when I defect to the Wen sect – as a spy, don’t look at me like that. You know I’d be good at it. And if I get close enough to Wen Ruohan, I can kill him. I’ll give you his head as a present, da-jie.”

“Unfair, A-Yao! I can’t compete with that,” Lan Xichen complained. “You have to let me help.”

‘Help’ turned out to be Lan Xichen allowing himself to be captured and Meng Yao stabbing Wen Ruohan in the back when he was about to start torturing the First Jade of Lan – Nie Mingjue had a headache and a strong desire to kill them both.

Even if they did bring her Wen Ruohan’s head.

“Stop looking so pleased with yourselves,” she scolded them – both Lan Xichen and Meng Yao, now officially Jin Guangyao (thanks to a bit of pointed haggling over which clan got what war merits and how that applied to the division of the spoils of war), looked positively smug. “What if you’d died?”

“But we didn’t,” Lan Xichen pointed out. “And now we’re here to claim our reward from our goddess.”

“Did I promise you a reward?”

Two sets of puppy dog eyes…and they did help her avenge her father.

“Fine. What do you want? If I can give it to you, it’s yours.”

They looked at each other, and Nie Mingjue immediately started to worry: they’d had time to think about it. That was dangerous.

“We want to marry you,” Lan Xichen said.

“Both of us,” Jin Guangyao said. “To avoid any jealousy.”

“That’s…not how that works,” Nie Mingjue said blankly. Men married multiple wives, not women multiple men: they had words for women who did that, none of them complimentary. Or legal, for that matter. “And anyway, I’ve already told you, I can’t have children. Huaisang’s my heir, and he always will be – you deserve to continue your family lines. Both of you.”

They exchanged looks again.

“That’s fine by me,” Jin Guangyao said. “Jin Zixuan’s the heir anyway.”

“I have plenty of cousins,” Lan Xichen said. “Can we go to bed now? I was injured in the line of duty –” He had a scraped knee and exactly three bruises, she’d counted. “– and I need some care and attention.”

“And an agreement of marriage from da-jie,” Jin Guangyao said, because he had a lawyer’s eye for such things.

This was almost certain to cause some sort of political disaster.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t settle for sworn brothers or something?” she tried.

They wouldn’t.

(The stories said that the leader of the Nie sect was a goddess – a war goddess, a goddess of the blade, sharp as the saber she carried and tall as a temple statute; they said that her two lovers fell in love with her the first moment they saw her and fought a war that upturned the entire cultivation world just to win the right to claim her hand; they said that they served as her right and left hands, and that when the three of them were together, the venerated triad, they could never be defeated.)

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan xichen #meng yao #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #da-jie #Anonymous

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what-the-fic-khr · 4 years ago

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getting pretty fixated on this khr x among us au hello. this one is a lot more violence focused than the last one. spun characters on a wheel for this lmao,, writing direct gore or injury isn’t my forte so I guess this au could be practice??

character/s: yamamoto takeshi, gokudera hayato

word count: 1,012

warnings: hm. violence, weapons, blood, gore-ish??? death. gruesome violence that I get into spoiler to the fic but warnings for all the injuries in brackets: (eye injury, attack with a blunt object, choking, snapping of a neck, cutting limbs apart, the mention of stuffing said limbs down a vent)

prompt: they were friends, weren’t they? (Among Us AU)

Sometimes they argued. Yeah, they struggled to get along often, and more often than not one was getting yelled at by the other.

But generally speaking, Takeshi figured Hayato at least liked him enough to try. That’s what mattered most. There were times they got along so well. They had to be friends! They were apart of the same crew and everything!

Well, he told himself that, but still... He wasn’t an idiot. They knew there was an imposter out there. But he’d seen Hayato doing tasks; struggling, but completing them.

Hayato was also just far too loyal to Tsuna to everyone consider betraying him and hurting his friends. There was no way.

“You’re too close.”

“Huh? But there’s not much room to watch the screens.”

Security was an awfully small room, all things considered.

Hayato narrowed his eyes at him before grunting and looking back at the screens.

Takeshi was far too stupid to be the imposter, he’d decided. That, or he’d hurt himself before he could even kill another person. There’s no way he could do it.

“Why the hell are you in here again...?”

Takeshi blinked at this before laughing lightly, shoulders shaking. “That’s an odd question. Tsuna asked me to keep you company.”

Hayato’s eye twitched.

“Said we should try to stay in pairs as much as possible. Gotta look after each other, y’know?”

God, he hated hearing this idiot speak about Tsuna so freely. It grated his nerves something fierce, and lit a fire so hot it could burn him up from the inside.

Still, Takeshi seemed to continue, like he didn’t notice Hayato’s change in attitude.

“Tsuna also really thinks it’d be good to keep two people watching security! Something about, like, knowing that someone isn’t lying about what they saw-“

“Do you think I’d lie?” Hayato’s voice cut him off, tone cold, and Takeshi seemed to turn a little warily at the ice in his words.

“No...? I never said that.”

“Do you believe Tenth would suspect me of lying? Huh? Bastard!”

What on earth was going on?

Takeshi waved his gloved hands around, shaking his head. “No! Tsuna’s not the type to do that! He was just-“

“You don’t know anything about Tenth!”

There was a growl so low in Hayato’s throat that it caused Takeshi to freeze. That was too deep. Too animalistic.

His blood ran cold when Hayato shoved the small office chair out of the way and advanced on him, his lips parting for nothing to leave.

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

He was so, so scared.

“Gokudera, come on-“

“Shut up!”

There was a loud banging when Takeshi was shoved roughly back into the wall of the small room, his head knocking against his helmet painfully.

He couldn’t keep his balance when he was shoved to the ground; had Hayato always been that strong?

He watched with wide eyes when a fist swung down into the eye shield, so strong it shattered glass that dug deep into pools of brown that slowly dyed red.

“A–Ah—“

Trembling hands shot up to his face, but he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see. Not the blue of his uniform, and not the glowing, ugly green of Hayato’s eyes through the thick, protective glass on his own helmet.

It was so dark, and so painful.

“My eyes—!”

Hayato yanked Takeshi’s helmet off, his own pupils blown wide as he swung it down with all the strength he could. He heard bone crunch beneath the force, but he couldn’t tell where the damage had been done.

He didn’t care.

He ignored Takeshi’s short cry of pain, shifting his weight to hover over his body and swinging again, and again, and again.

But the fire in his chest didn’t stop burning. It wasn’t enough to simply beat him to death with a blunt object. It just wasn’t enough for him.

“Do you ever shut up?!” Hayato hissed, tearing his own helmet off so he could glare down at Takeshi, even if he couldn’t be seen.

Takeshi strangled out a gasp, jumping in fear when hands wrapped around his throat.

“W-Why...?!” Bent and twisted fingers clawed pathetically at stretches of red, trying to tug the hands around his neck away. “W-Weren’t we– we fr...! Friends—“

There was no air, too much saliva clogging up his throat, tears and blood staining his face, too much black surrounding him.

Hayato let out a snarl so nasty that it sent a tremor down Takeshi’s spine despite everything else.

“We were never fucking friends! Are you stupid?! I’ve never liked you!”

The eldest tried speaking again, but could only spit up the saliva he was now choking on. It was getting cold.

Hayato’s lips pulled back to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth, each one counting more teeth than the previous one.

“God– I hate you... so much!”

He felt bone break beneath his hands before he heard it, and heard it before he could register Takeshi’s head lolling back limply.

He pulled back, one hand at a time, his breathing heavy and ragged, stuttering in his fit of rage.

Now he had a body, and the fire inside still had not slowed down.

He scanned the messy room quickly to find a place to hide the body, and he only came up with one answer.

For minutes only, with strength so inhumane, he would tear each limb off one at a time, ensuring it was small enough before setting it aside into a slowly growing pile.

Fumbling around for the knife hidden away in his red suit, he used the blade to hack away at any piece that still remained too large.

He had to make them smaller. Smaller, smaller, as small as possible.

Oh, it was a bloody mess, but once he deemed his job satisfactory, he turned and flipped up the grate to the vent, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

One piece at a time.

No one would get any closer to Tsuna, and he would make sure of that.

One person at a time.

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the-rawr-ster · 4 years ago

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Title: To Die In Your Arms

Chapter 1: Alone, We’re All Alone.

W/C: 1659

Warnings: Death, violence, mental health, and blood.

A/n: I am sorry if I make you cry with this. Also listen to the video to help like idk feel the mood ig.

Your mother had sent you out to retrieve the ingredients for her famous rolls. These ingredients are pretty hard to come by so she rarely makes them. But waiting a month to eat them is worth it, well for the customers. She usually sells out, so your family can never manage to get a batch for yourselves.

On your way back, you saw a young boy getting harassed. The kids had taken his bread. It was a whole month's worth of bread. You stood there watching as they scarfed it down. They didn’t leave a single crumb. How could someone do something so cruel? You wanted to say something, anything really. But you were too paralyzed. You just stood there and watched as this boy's meals were stolen from him. Coward. I’m a coward.

You hear feet hitting the ground at a fast past and loud, whiny, screaming. Suddenly, someone’s face was laying flat on the ground. You immediately rushed back to your mother.

Your mother was conversing with a middle-aged woman with brown hair. She greeted you with a warm smile and eyes kinder than any you had ever seen. You hid behind your mother, placing your chin in the crevice of her neck. You let out a tiny smile at the woman and then ducked your head behind your mother.

“I have a son just about your age,” she said, “He’s a little troubled, but all he needs are friends.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. My child is very shy and has a hard time making friends. But they’re very sweet,” your mother replied.

She spoke of you highly, as if you were an angel of sorts. She always made you feel special. She was special like that, she could make even the saddest of souls feel better. Your father on the other hand was too blunt for his own good. He always bad people’s best interest at heart but unlike your mother, he was bad with words. His words hurt, but he would never be able to understand that. Despite his cold demeanor, your mother still fell in love with him. She chipped away at that cold exterior until she could find his heart. She made it her life’s goal to prove that he had a heart, not just to other people but to him too.

“Well, I best be going. I’ll get back to you on what you said Mrs. (L/N).”

You watched as her stoic figure disappeared into the crowd of customers and merchants.

“Would you mind getting those to your father,” your mother pointed to the basket of ingredients still dangling from the crook of your elbow. You nodded and headed home as your mother closed up the stand. You had been walking around all day, so fortunately your house was just around the corner.

Before you could open the door, a loud BOOM filled the confinements of the walls. And soon smoke arose and screams could be heard for miles. You ran inside and yelled for your father, dropping the basket and not giving a rats ass about it.

“Dad, dad, I think something is happening,” you cried, fumbling up the stairs to pull your father out of bed, “Dad, get up.”

“Hm, sweetheart,” your father mumbled, “What’s going on?”

“Dad, please.”

You ran back down the stairs and carried a bucket of water dumping it on your father. He shot straight up, his eyes wide. You could hear the piercing screams and the booms from the footsteps of something monstrous. It was distant but loud.

“What was that? Where’s your mother,” he questioned.

“I don’t know, but we need to go. Mom was still at the stand when I came here to give you the ingredients for the rolls.”

“What?!”

Your father jumped out of bed and put on his shoes. He grabbed your arm and drug you out the door with him. His grip was tight leaving red marks on your arms. The streets were crowded with people running for their lives. Children were crying for their mothers and fathers. Parents frantically searching for their children. It’s was complete and utter chaos. Your heart beating irregularly. Thump! Thump! Thump! It was almost like it was right in front of you, not in your chest, in front of you. When you looked up. That’s when you saw it. An enormous, disgusting, monster, towering over your mother. It’s head was almost too large for its body, and it smelt like rotting flesh.

“M-mom,” you whispered, choked on your tears.

Your fathers eyes darted sporadically, his hands trembling, loosening their grip on your arm. Your mother stood like a statue, staring at the monstrosity of a beast. The beast lowers its arm and snatches your mother off the ground. Your father runs after her, struggling to keep his feet on the ground. No, this can’t be happening, can it? It’s just a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. You’ll wake up to the smell of your mother and fathers baking. You’ll wake up to the sound of children running around in the streets. Now all you hear is the sound of ‘IT’ scarfing down your mothers limp body without any hesitation.

Your father grabs the closest sharp object to him and charges at it.

“Dad, no, please don’t,” you scream, but he doesn’t listen. All he sees is red. The sight of the only woman he ever loved being eaten, brought about a fit of blind rage.

“I love you, I’m sorry I never told you, y/n,” he gently smiled at you as tears built up. And those were the last words he ever spoke to you. The last words he spoke before his body was crushed.

While it was distracted with your father, you ran. You ran like your life depended on it because it did. You didn’t stop, you just kept going. Why? Why us? Why did this have to happen? We lived so peacefully. We did what we were supposed to. Why wasn’t it enough? And where were the garrison gaurds? Why weren’t they protecting us? That’s what you wanted to say, but you had to focus on making it to the boats. There weren’t a lot of spots, so you had to be fast.

...

The boat was crowded, but you made it just in time before it would leave. Everything was quiet. You could only hear the rushing of the water and the screaming in the distance as the boat rushed down the stream.

All of the thoughts and memories soon came rushing back to you. The sight of your mother and father. The beast. Your father’s last words. It all flooded your mind. There was no room left to think of anything else.

You curled up in a ball, your knees close to your chest, and your arms holding your head between them. You covered your ears, trying to silence the screams in your head...trying to silence the crunch of your parents body’s in it’s hands. You wanted to forget. You wanted to forget that you had nothing left. That everything, everyone you loved was gone.

You watched your tears fall onto the wooden panels beneath you. Drip. Drop. Drip. They wouldn’t stop coming. They wouldn’t obey your commands, they just fell, like they had given up.

“Hey,” a voice whispered.

“Its all in your head. Nobody is talking to you,” you told yourself.

“Hey.”

When you had fully convinced yourself that the voice wasn’t real, a soft, dainty, hand tapped on your shoulder.

“Stop it, leave me alone. Please, go away,” you sobbed, covering your ears and banging your head into your knees. Why? Why won’t it go away? I already lost everything. I don’t want to lose my mind. Your breathe became shallow and shaky.

“Armin, I think she just wants to be left alone,” another chided.

“Hey, breathe, you’re gonna make yourself pass out , and give yourself a concussion banging your head around like that.”

The person’s voice was soft and quiet, soothing, in a way. In pure curiosity you slowly lifted your aching head. You looked next you you and saw a frail, blonde boy sitting with a dark haired girl and a green-eyed boy. They all looked drained, but it’s no wonder. You all had been traumatized, and lost someone you cared about.

“Hi, my names Armin,” he said, “Are you h-,”

The girl shook here head and gestures for Armin to stop talking.

“No, I’m not here with anybody. I’m alone,” your voice trembling as you speak.

The trio looked in disbelief but also relieved. They weren’t the only ones to lose someone. You shifted your gaze to the floor. It wasn’t in my head. They were really gone. Its not a bad dream. It’s a reality. It’s my-, no OUR reality. A reality that sucked. No that’s an understatement. This was hell. A hell that I learned I could only get out of if I died.

Do I still want to save people? Can I save anyone? I don’t know. Will I run away like that again? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m alone.

“We’re all alone. Sure, we’re all in the same boat, both figuratively and literally. But we’re all alone. It’s not just me. Look at all the other kids on this boat,” you sighed, “ It’s not just me. So please don’t look at me like that.” Their eyes softened, except for the green-eyed boy. His eyes were filled with darkness. There was an intense, murderous aura about him...something different. Everyone else was scared, trying to survive. But he looked like he was ready to pounce on anything that moved. He eyes reminded you of your father’s in his last moments.

The light rain masked the tears falling down your face as you thought of him. You stared into the sky, searching for him...searching to know if there really was a paradise after leaving this hell.

Synopsis: You didn’t realize how in love you were with Jean Kirschtein until he decided to join the Survey Corp.

Taglist: n/a

Masterlist

Chapter 2

Playlist

#aot fanfiction #aot jean #aot angst #aot anime #aot #aot spoilers #aot x reader #attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #TDIYA

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stroni-bomb · 6 years ago

Text

Shapeshifter!Jaemin: Growing Pains Chapter 6

Prev. / Next. / Masterlist.

Warning: there is some horror aspect about potential murder so please be aware!

I know it's been such a while but exam season really killed me, I'll try and be as consistent as possible from this point onwards till the next exams! -Stroni

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

That same creepy smile tainted your mind, your vision, your everything. You couldn't escape it. You tried to yell out but were silenced. You couldn't tell if this was dream or reality, it was so surreal but you couldn't actually see anything besides that murderous smile.

Murderous.

The smile continued to expand, or was it getting closer? You tried to move back, far away as you could from this thing. However as it got closer all you saw was a young boy, though his smirk alone was enough to rid of his innocence.

"Pick a hand!" He cooed, both arms behind his back, "left? Or right?"

You shook your head, the only movement your body allowed you to do. It must have been the wrong answer as he took one more step closer.

"Pick a hand!" He repeated, "left? Or right?" There was something sinister in his voice, you willed yourself to say no but your mouth moved for you, "left." You hadn't wanted to say that, you hadn't even told yourself to say that.

"Ding Ding Ding!" He cheered, slowly revealing the object in his left hand. "You chose...death by knife! You could've chosen death by suffocation but that would've been so boring."

Your eyes widened, still you couldn't scream for help or try to defend yourself in any way as the boy crept gradually towards you, a sharp blade in hand. As the light from the moon shone through the window and hit his face you thought he seemed familiar. Maybe...was he? Surely not, he was taken from Ry but-

You were violently shaken awake, the young boy faded but not before mouthing "next time".

"Y/N! Y/N! Please be okay...Y/N!" Your eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Where's the boy?" You asked Jaemin, the one who'd woken you up, frantically as you shot up from your bed.

"W-what boy? Y/N you shouldn't move so fast you have a fever and everythin-"

"I need to see Ry, is she having a vision? Someone needs to check on her now."

"Who's Ry, the woman from yesterday? You're not going anywhere near here Y/N, what if she tries to kill you?" Jaemin scowled, walking around the bed to your side.

"I feel like she just did..." You mumbled, recalling what had just happened.

Jaemin froze beside you, his breathing ragged. The amount of control is was taking him to not crash into the other room and kill Ry was obvious, you tried to calm him by forcing innocent thoughts into his mind.

"Y/N..." He eventually whispered as his head dropped into your shoulder, "don't leave me, I've only just got you, you can't leave me now."

Gently wrapping your arms around him you kissed the top of his head which rested on your shoulder, instinctively his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest. You stayed like this for a while, the only background noise being Donghyuk's light snores and the both of your in sync breathing.

Gradually you pulled away, lifting Jaemin's chin with your index finger to make him lock eyes with you.

"Listen Jae," you stated somewhat confident, "If I am going to die," he winced and tried to look away but instead you put two hands against either cheek to keep him in place, "I can't sit around and wait for it to happen. That boy, whether it was a dream or not, it was Ry's son and he was going to kill me. I need to talk to Ry."

Jaemin let out an airy laugh, his hair flopping down over his face as he looked down towards the floor, breaking eye contact with you. "You're so mature Y/N...once this all goes away- and you come out of it alive, I hope to see that goofy side of you again. I want that wide, toothy smile that always cheered us up. Your natural cuteness and happy aura," he paused in reminiscence. Already your eyes were brimming with tears, had anyone ever said something so heart warming to you before? "Don't get me wrong, I love your serious side too! But I know the true you, the child in you, is dying to come out. I'll wait patiently for that day too."

He locked eyes with you once again, they too were brimmed with tears threatening to make a run for it down his cheeks. This look alone was persuasion enough.

"Fine, I won't go," you mumbled against his ear. "I've just contacted Taeyong, he'll check on her for me."

You didn't have to glance down to see the big smile that had grown on Jaemin's face as he grasped you even tighter. "Thank you Y/N," they were simple words but they were laced with sweet sincerity, a warmth that truly felt like you were home...home.

You loosened your grip around his torso causing him to look up in confusion, instead of complaining of the loss of you he saw your alternative plans.

"Are you sure, Y/N?" He looked on warily as you shuffled across the bed to make room for him. "I don't want to rush you into anything, don't feel pressured with everything that's going on right now, we can still take it slo-"

"Just get in the damn bed Jae," you tapped the empty space next to you with a laugh, his blush could light up the room, a bright red contrasting against the darkness around you, if it wasn't for the moonlight streaming through the gap in the curtains it would have been swallowed by the night. You were glad it wasn't.

Hesitantly he rose to his feet, shuffling his butt onto the edge of the bed before laying down in one, slow motion after taking a deep breath. You're so cute you thought to yourself, internally giggling to avoid embarrassing him anymore. He froze in place, a small gap between you two. You wanted to close the space, to hold him against you and just fall asleep in his arms without the feeling of fear crossing your mind once. He had the same idea apparently.

It didn't take him long to adjust, your fast beating heart sounded loud and clear in his ears making him realise you felt the exact same ad he did. He took one more soothing breath before choosing to go down the cliché route of things. Pretending to yawn he stretched both arms into the air, his left arm fell to his side whereas his right gently folded around your shoulder and pulled you closer into his chest. It was cheesy, corny, the whole lot, but nonetheless it was enough for you to feel heat coursing through your veins.

Silence followed for a while, a long, comfortable silence. He played with your hair as you wrote your name on his chest, neither of you needed to break the silence, yet your inner guardian side wanted to use this opportunity to find out more about him...to dig a little deeper.

"Jaemin?" He almost didn't answer, slightly taken aback by hearing his full name leave your mouth instead of the usual nickname.

"Y-yh?"

"Tell me about yourself." It was blunt but got straight to the point, it was enough to do the job.

He seemed reluctant to say anything. It seemed like he didn't quite understand what you wanted to hear, what the correct answer was to your question.

"What do you want to know?" He eventually asked after several minutes had passed.

Biting the corner of your lip tried to think about a reasonable way to drop, what could be a massive bomb, onto him. "Hmm...tell me about your...past?"

He froze yet again, you were right, touchy subject. "Can't you just- look in my head? I don't want to talk about it." His voice went quiet, no longer as cheery as it was before.

"I could," you started, pouting slightly that you plan A hadn't worked. "But I think it'll be better that you speak about it. I am your guardian after all."

He paused again, staring straight ahead without blinking. "My past, huh?" You nodded, resuming to write your name with your finger against his chest as well as little heart symbols and the initials of his members.

"I was the only child between my parents, we were a happy little family in our village. My mum always wanted to give me a little sibling...but there were complications," he willed himself not to cry already as his story only just began. "My dad was apart of the front line, he'd be the first to spot the danger but there was always a chance he'd be the last to leave it too... that happened to my best friend. His dad and mine were also close, but my dad couldn't save him...he changed after that."

"My dad refused to come home after patrol. No one knew if it was because he was looking for something to kill him or he didn't want his family to get destroyed like his best friend did. Mine never spoke to me after the incident. Some blamed my father, some blamed the whole squad but others left it to fate. It was enough to say that there was a rift in our village." You began to write the words 'family' and 'friends' into his chest, taking out key memories to help you keep track of the story.

"Me and my mother hadn't seen him in over a week. He hadn't come home for meals or even to just say hello...I was thinking the worst had happened to him but my mother stayed strong, for me but also herself. Until one day, he came back, it would be the last time I'd ever see him and my mother again," a stray tear rolled down his cheek until more followed, unintentionally you began to cry too, feeling all the pain that he was at that moment.

His free hand patted your head and he forced a laugh, "don't you cry Y/N~"

You sniffled and lifted your head up so you could lock eyes. "But you're crying Jae, you're hurting, you've been hurting for so long but decided against talking about it. You've allowed yourself to suffer...wallowing in your own demons, I want your demons too. I want to make you feel better, together we can heal."

His eyes broke from yours and returned to staring hard at the wall. It was quiet again but this one was thick, there was a light tension in the air due to the heavy topic you had brought up. Maybe it was too soon to drop this onto him. You had refused so many times before to go into Jaemin's head but in this moment you wanted to so bad- but he looked back at you.

"You're amazing," he smiled, genuinely. "I'm glad fate lead me to you. When this mess is all over, we can talk it all out, right now I want to focus on you though. Can you do that?" You thought your guardian side would object but instead it begged you to tell him that you would do literally anything for him, anything that would keep him happy and by your side.

"I can do that Jae," you smiled, placing a small kiss on his nose.

His eyes widened in shock to your sudden skinship but soon enough he regained his composure, a small smirk plastered his face and his left hand reached up to cup your cheek. "Let's sleep Y/N," he cooed, his hot breath panning on your face. Placing a gentle kiss to your forehead he brought you down to settle on his chest, his natural warmth radiated through you like a hot water bottle. You didn't bother to try and hide how flustered you were, Jaemin could already tell by your throbbing heart.

He began to hum a soft tune, something told you that it was one which was important to him, one he'd carried with him for a while.

"Y/N?" He broke out of his song to call your name, you mumbled a quiet 'yes' in reply. "How did you know...something was wrong with Ry?"

You pursed your lips, it wasn't something that came with being a guardian seeker- you just kind of had a hunch. "Initiative I guess...why?"

"Taeyong contacted me telepathically, he said Ry had had a moment again but she's under control now thanks to him and Taeil," you nodded into his chest, I hope she's okay you thought, knowing if you said it out loud Jaemin would say some sarcastic comment like 'I don't'.

"Taeil has taken a liking to her...I wonder- nevermind," Jaemin stopped mid speech, hearing your light snores echoing through his ears, he'd rather not wake you up, it had been a long day.

"Goodnight Y/N," he mumbled as he pressed another kiss to your forehead before turning to face Donghyuk's bed next to yours, "rest well Hyuk...I'm so so sorry." He willed himself not to cry again, deciding it was best to get some shut eye he cuddled into you, feeling absolute bliss.

***

"SOMEONE GET THE CAMERA! Curse this stupid cast, SOMEONE GET MY DAMN CAMERA I SWEAR!" You eyes shot open at the sound of Hyuk's yelling, everything seemed frantic, what the heck was going on?

"Great now you've woken her up Donghyuk," Jaemin sighed from beside you, lifting you gently off of his chest and nestling you into the pillow.

Hyuk groaned in defeat, "Jisung watch when I'm healed, why are you so slow?"

Jisung slumped into the room panting, "it's not my fault you hide your camera in places only you know."

"There's a reason for that! I got so much dirt on you guys, I can't risk them being deleted!"

You yawned in the midst of their argument, whatever their argument was about....what was it about?

"Why are you upset about a camera?" You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

Hyuk was about to talk but Jaemin answered for him, "he wanted to take a picture of us, since we were cuddling."

"Oh," you let everything click into place and soon enough it made sense. "Like you and Hyuk were cuddling before?"

Both boys froze, Jisung just burst out laughing almost collapsing as he double over. Hyuk deeply sighed before sending the younger to get him Mark and Ireum, seeking some other form of company.

"So are you guys together or what?" He broke the silence, you knew he was curious about it, the question was ringing in your mind load and clear as soon as you awoke.

"Don't push it Donghyuk," Jaemin snapped.

"What? It's the least you could do after you nearly killed me yesterday."

"Yh, want me to do it again?" You tugged his shirt sleeve to calm him down, you knew he was in a sensitive mood with everything that has happened but Hyuk was only joking, maybe it was a low blow though.

There was a light knock on the door and soon after Ireum and Mark entered the room. "Hey Hyuk, how you doing?" Mark asked, doing what they could of their handshake. Ireum took a seat on the bottom of your bed, flashing her regular smile.

"It's a good thing Jaemin's weak, it could've been my last hour," Hyuk faked tears and held Mark's hand against his chest.

"Don't kill him...don't kill him..." Jaemin grumbled audibly to himself, taking your hand in his own.

"Oh yh you guys, you were mates?" Mark asked genuinely shocked, you had thought it was obvious, even Ireum seemed to frown at him.

"Mark...seriously?" She questioned, one eyebrow cocked up.

"Yh! Wait you knew? Why didn't you tell me?" He pointed at her accusingly as though he had just been betrayed.

Ireum threw her hands up in the air in disbelief, "literally everyone knew!"

The three of you nodded in unison, confirming that everyone did in fact know. Jaemin wasn't very good at hiding it, you weren't either to be honest.

"Then why did no one talk about it? I'm new to this supernatural thing how was I to know!" He genuinely didn't understand, you shifted your eyes to focus on Jaemin's shoulder to prevent yourself from laughing.

"Mark I'm human and I knew! Gosh you really are clueless babe," for some reason you smiled warmly, the sound of Ireum using the word babe reminded you that they too were soulmates, like you and Jaemin. They were definitely made for each other, it was so easy to see the adoration in their eyes when they'd look at each other. Even now when they're playfully arguing, love is laced into every word like a toxic drug, it was addictive and would simply make you want to spend every single second of the day, of your life, with each other. That was one drug you wouldn't mind being high on, especially if it meant Jaemin. Only if it meant Jaemin.

As if reading your mind he looked over at you, his warm eyes already showing signs of the side effects that followed this intoxicating pill. If you looked at yourself right now you were sure you were the same. Everything about him was perfect to you, his nose, his lips, his eyes, how his hair flopped perfectly into place and his jaw bone jutted out in two straight, sharp lines. This was the feeling.

The feeling that fate had just locked into place.

The feeling of acceptance.

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gizoogletranslateshomestuck · 5 years ago

Photo

[A6A6I4] ====>

ROXY: be true RIZZLE: im always gettin owned at thoze by you n ur kizzy ROXY: recently yo' crazy dogg sista wizzas schoolin me on perfizzle generic cubes

JIZNOHN: you mizzay genizzle objects like a tru playa'.

ROXY: generic fort blox : Anotha dogg house production.p

JOHN: yiznes in all flavas.

ROXY hittin that booty: now u be droppin truth bombs 'bout blank skizzle on me RIZZLE: Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. shouldnt i be L-to-tha-izzike innately stellar at dis sizzorta stizzuff as a void gangsta ROXY: must be comin off slow as fizzay on tha uptizzle here arent i

JOHN: not R-E-A-Double-Lizzy. JOHN: you seem prizzle sizzy ta me.

ROXIZZLE and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow: i do

JOHN: yeah. J-TO-THA-IZZOHN: yizzy have a fizzle n snappy way of talk'n, like dizzle. JOHN: but unlike that knuckleheezee, i senze that behind all yo' jokes, you be probably some kind of brainiac, like roze.

ROXIZZLE: whow

JIZNOHN: dizzon't git me wriznong, i meant knuckleheezee 'n a good wizzay. JOHN: dizzave be actuallizzle tha best dizzude, you wizzy like him.

RIZZLE: i biznet you be correct ROXY: so dave... Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect. ROXY: hes uhhhhhh ROXIZZLE: mah son right n shit??

JOHN: argh! Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin.

ROXIZZLE now pass the glock: ! You gotta check dis shit out yo.

JIZNOHN: i mean like a tru playa'. yes, pretty much. JIZZY: honestlizzle, it gizzets wizzy ta think 'bout all our relations in that way sometimes. Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint.

ROXY: i getcha ROXY, niggaz, better recognize: like when i thizzle 'bout u n wolfjade bein tha kids of jizzle n jizzay i... ROXY: i... ROXY: omfg ROXIZZLE, niggaz, better recognize: thiznat SO SKANKY :3

JOHN sho nuff: um. Dogg House Records in the motha fuckin house.

ROXY: so what be it u thinks weird 'bout diznave bein mah sizzy?

JOHN from tha streets of tha L-B-C: i think we should just change tha subject!

ROXY: ahaha alright ROXY in all flavas: whizzat wizzay we ho-slappin' 'bout agizzle

JIZZY: we were talk'n 'bout blank skies and fort blizzocks n S-to-tha-izzuch.

ROXY: oh yizzay

JIZZLE: n you thizzay yizzay should K-N-to-tha-izzow more 'bout th'n like thizzat as a viznoid hizzay... JIZZY: W-H-to-tha-izzich reminds me. JOHN droppin hits: d-ya thizzay you be any closa ta ballin' that alien egg?

ROXY: hmn

JIZZLE: i mizzle, after bustin' niznix. JIZZOHN ya dig? dizzid you fizzle, like, a pimp B-to-tha-izzoost or nothin' trippin'?

ROXY: a killa boost fo' real??? ROXY: like mizzle dawg or

JOHN: no, not like mega dawg. JOHN: i mean, like... Im crazy, you can't phase me.

ROXIZZLE: youre askizzle if she taught me ta do tha voidey th'n

JOHN: well, did she?

ROXY: naw dude ROXIZZLE: i told you ROXY: we did our chizzay 'n some horseshit elvizzle baloney tongue ROXY: n shizzle jizzle told me ta come H-to-tha-izzere ROXY: like thizzle literally it ROXIZZLE: "go ta planet if u W-to-tha-izzant ta live" RIZZLE: so i did ROXY dogg: there wasnt really any soul blunt-rollin' or gettin 'n tizzy wit my inna miracles

JOHN: oh. JOHN: well that kind of a bumma. JIZZAY bitch ass nigga: i hope you weren't shortchanged out of an important mystical n spiritizzle process of self discoverizzle fo' real.

ROXY: pfffahahaha

JIZZY cuz its a G thang: ?

ROXY: pfhehehehehehehehe

JOHN: wizzy yeah yeah baby?

ROXY: sorry its just ROXY: Dogg House Records in the motha fuckin house. sometimes yizzy siznound so M-to-tha-izzuch like jiznake its rly quite uncizzle RIZZLE: bizzay yeah i dizzle ciznare 'bout thiznat rizzle ROXY: it wizzy crazy ass nigga takes an uneventful n nonspiritual T-R-to-tha-izzip ta a wizzind planet, or just stop weed-smokin' altogetha ROXY: i tizzy ill be F-to-tha-izzine witout tha sizzy discovery part

JOHN: yeah like old skool shit. JOHN: or, niggaz, better recognize... JIZZOHN: wait. Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect. JOHN but real niggaz don't give a fuck: what if dis was pizzy of it?

RIZZLE: part of what

JIZNOHN: Slap your mutha fuckin self. yo' qizzy? JIZNOHN: like, ta be H-to-tha-izzere, n learn ta uze yo' powa betta wit da big Bo$$ Dogg? JOHN, know what im sayin? we be kind of 'n a realm of literal nothingness right now. JIZZOHN: mizzle you wizzill be able ta dizzy energy or inspiration from tha void, or shot calla like old skool shit?

RIZZLE: NIX....... ROXY cuz its a doggy dog world: whizzle u sly old bitch

J-TO-THA-IZZOHN: does that make senze?

ROXY: it kind of does ROXY: it kind of LOADS of does

JIZNOHN in tha hood: oh, sweet! JOHN: i was just grasp'n at straws there, but nizzy thizzat you agree, i'm suddenly a lot miznore confident 'n mah theory. You gotta check dis shit out yo.

ROXY: heheh yizzle ( in tha mutha fuckin club...jizzle)

JIZNOHN, chill yo: so why don't you try it out again? They call me tha black folks president.

RIZZLE doggystyle: what ROXY: tha egg? ROXY: like R-to-tha-izzight now?

JOHN: Chill as I take you on a trip. sizzle doggystyle?

ROXY: Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga. meh tbh im a bizzit sick of tryin ta summon that ugly damn egg ROXY: how 'bout pusha now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe?? ROXY: Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga. i would bitch jizzay K-to-tha-izzeep bee ess'n wit u fizzor a whizzay pusha than git right D-to-tha-izzown ta freakizzle business

JOHN: i guess there really no hurry. JOHN: not 'n this plizzay at lizzy. JOHN thats off tha hook yo: i don't think dis place has any bear'n on otha time linizzles. JOHN: Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. it almost like... JOHN cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: lizzike gang bangin' a tizzy out from our canonical lizzles. JOHN: so if you wanted, you could takes as much time ta practice here as you nee'. They call me tha black folks president.

ROXY: im down as hizzle wit that ROXY: could uze a breatha from mah canonical life

JOHN: me too, niggaz, better recognize. JIZZLE: evizzle thizzay... JOHN: i'm not sizzle i have one anymizzle?

> [A6A6I4] ====>

#Gizoogle #Homestuck #pg7107

0 notes

gizoogletranslateshomestuck · 7 years ago

Photo

> Jane: Answa Di-Stri ta help you tap dat ass.

timaeustestify [TT] began bother'n gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 1:43

TT: I S-H-to-tha-izzould probably warn yizzle n shit.

GG bitch ass nigga: About what? GG ridin' in mah double R: Yet anotha explod'n game trap?

TT: Wizzell S-H-to-tha-izzit. TT: She already sent it?

GG with my forty-fo' mag: Yizzes. GG: But ta be fair, she warned me not ta run it to increase tha peace.

TT: That weird thats off tha hook yo.

GG: Why? Snoop dogg is in this bitch. GG: Wussup to all my niggaz in the house. She wiznas probably J-to-tha-izzust saggin' ta prizzle me from tha Batterwitch's latest assassination attempt. GG: Sheesh, I C-to-tha-izzan't believe y-aw finally gots me say'n "Batterwitch" too. Who wiznould have thought? Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up.

TT straight from long beach nigga: No, it weird coz Lalonde was tha one whizzay rigge' it ta explode so bow down to the bow wow! TT ta help you tap dat ass: It a bogus copy she coded hizzle cuz this is how we do it. Tha rizzay gizname file she downloaded is totally legit.

GG ya feelin' me? What? Really?

TT: Gots it right here mysizzelf, betta check yo self. Checked it out. TT mah nizzle: File fuckin' clean as a whistle. Holla! TT: A whizzle that overcame a major substizzle abuze problem. Ill slap tha taste out yo mouf. Try'n ta git its life bizzack on track. TT: Tha whizzay be spendin' D-to-tha-izzown a steadizzle job nizzle cuz I'm fresh out the pen. It frontin' th'n one dizzle at a time. Death row 187 4 life. TT: Eat a fuckin' dinna off that whistle so show some love, niggaz!

GG: ...

TT: Ok I'll shut up.

GG: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. Why wizzy shizzay do T-H-to-tha-izzat? Tru niggaz do niggaz.

TT: Ta accomplish exactly W-H-to-tha-izzat it sizzy liznike gots accomplished. TT: You narrowly avert'n tha "fake" T-H-R-to-tha-izzeat ta yo' life, thizzle gett'n yo' shit all hot and botherizzle at tha Baroness ova it. TT where the sun be shinin and I be rhymin': Then you abdicate yo' heirizzles thrizzone or sum-m sum-m, n gizzy up on thizzis game as a big fuck you ta tha genizzle C-to-tha-izzake alien.

GG, betta check yo self: Bizzay... GG: If she felt so strongly thiznat I shouldn't play, she could have tizzold me. GG: Or, tizzold me more forcefully, I guess. I would have listened! GG: Maybe. GG: doggystyle:(

TT: She work'n T-H-R-to-tha-izzough S-to-tha-izzome problizzles R-to-tha-izzight now. TT: Really doesn't want us ta play tizzy game. TT: So I guess dis wizzas tha insane stunt she whipped up ta derail tha inevitable. One, two three and to tha four. TT: Boo-Yaa! Kinda recklizzles fo` mah tastes fo' sho'. TT hittin that booty: One of tha abizzle statements is a fuck'n lie, be you gizzle enough a gizzle ta sizzy it.

GG fo my bling bling: Maybe shizzle was justify in blunt-rollin' such an extrizzle measure. I sure hadn't bizzy tak'n drug deala seriously. Slap your mutha fuckin self. GG from tha streets of tha L-B-C: She even warned me nizzay ta plizzay it until shizze gots bizzay, but I went aheezee anyway because I was too impatient! GG: Actually if you gots a paper stack... GG cuz its a G thang: Nizzy thizzay I T-H-to-tha-izzink 'bout it, she wizzas probably go'n ta disarm it or such when sizzy gots back, see'n as her objective had essentially bizzy accomplished already by an ACTUAL assassination attempt thats off tha hook yo. GG: Afta tizzy, I told her I would believe ha 'bout everyth'n. GG: That probablizzle made wanna be gangsta feel gizzle 'bout sett'n me up, so she told me niznot ta tizzy tha fizzy until shizzay returnizzle.

TT: Sounds 'bout riznight.

GG: Bizzy thizzle I went aheezee n rizzay it anyway like a doofus. GG: I think she just wanted ta be believed. GG: Sizzy. GG: Be I an awful nigga droppin hits?

TT: Nope.

GG: I'm not so sure 'bout that keep'n it real yo.

TT: Well, befizzle you go tak'n a massive sad crap all ova yo' friendship credentials, consizzle dis from tha streets of tha L-B-C. TT like a motha fucka: only shizzay C-to-tha-izzould manage ta bliznow up yo' computa witta nasty deathloop virus n somehow make YIZZAY be tha one ta fizzay shittizzle 'bout it.

GG: Heh! GG: Yoe right.

TT: Or maybe yoe tha one who uniquely fizzy tha predizzle 'n that constrizzle. Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. TT: I diznon't god damn kniznow. Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. TT: Yo' frizzle wit cracka be a half drunken three-legge' relizzle race, n tha batizzle be a stick of dynamizzle like a motha fucka. TT: Death row 187 4 life. N you twizzay be tha only ones on tha track. Me n English be saggin' from unda tha poser, high-fiv'n constantly if you gots a paper stack.

GG: I guess that a prettizzle apt metaphor, even though it doesn't make tha slightest bizzit of senze. Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint.

TT: Yizzay.

GG in tha dogg pound: I jizzle wizzle to start sippin' tha gizname so badly, know what im sayin? GG so jus' chill: Niznow mizzy than eva. I have reason ta believe tha stizzles have increaze' dramatizzle.

TT: Thizzay have. TT paper'd up: N they W-to-tha-izzill continue ta.

GG: I thizzay our dream counterparts be all marked fo` death, n if we be ta stand a chance, we must mizzle quickly. Aint no stoppin' this shit nigga.

TT: I agree. TT so bow down to the bow wow! Just heard 'bout your assassination on Prospizzle.

GG: Oh, shizzay T-to-tha-izzold you alrizzle?

TT: Who, RL? No. TT: I read it 'n a newspapa.

GG: Um. GG: Be you bein ironic agizzle?

TT: No. TT: I just picked up one of tha slizzle Dersite tabloid rags. TT: Sometimes thizzle feature some pretty dippin' gossip 'bout tha royalty or whateva and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow. TT: Bizzut thizzey're primarily dedicatizzle ta trippin' Prospit. Tha press had a field day wit tha deaths of tha Pizzay n tha Maid.

GG: Dersizzle? Yiznou mean tha otha planet? Tha evil one?

TT: Derze, yizneah. TT: Not evil, necessarily. That a bit simplistic. Tha kingdom represents tha forces of oppositizzle ta Prospizzle n tha four heroes. Us.

GG from tha streets of tha L-B-C: What did tha storizzle sizzy 'bout me? Freak y'all, into the beat y'all.

TT: "DEAD" TT: Wizzas tha big ass heezeeline. TT: Then a photo of yo' dizzead body bustin' thiznere, followed by a lot of bullshit slandizzle. TT: It was also reported yo' towa exploded. They cizzouldn't fizzle tha body ta G-to-tha-izzive it a killa funeral. Probably incinerated so show some love, niggaz!

GG: I dizzy realize yizzle had woken up in tha game already. GG: Whizzle did tizzy happen?

TT: D-to-tha-izzunno. Yizzle ago droppin hits. Don't reallizzle recall.

GG: I gizzuess I shouldn't act surprize' yizzou diznidn't tizzay me. What wit all yo' highfalutin secrecizzle.

TT fo' sho': It H-to-tha-izzard ta explizzle with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. TT with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin: I wiznas neva technically asleep thizzle mah nizzle. I was awake witout realiz'n it. TT so bow down to the bow wow! Then I realize' it paper'd up. TT: And I sizzay learned how ta be awake there while awake here tizzay. TT: You gotta check dis shit out yo. I be awizzle there niznow, albeit pretend'n ta sleep.

GG: Pretend'n? Why?

TT: Fo` one bustin', it gets a bizzy distract'n frontin' two alert bodies 'n differizzle places at tha same T-to-tha-izzime now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe. TT: N fo` drug deala steppin', it betta ta maintain appearances. TT: Everyone on Derze believizzles they heroes havizzle woken yiznet. You gotta check dis shit out yo. TT from tha streets of tha L-B-C: Though they be bizzoth rumored ta be vizzle active slizzay poser. I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. TT, niggaz, better recognize: Which be hiznalf tizzy. She C-to-tha-izzan't pusha seem ta slizzeep still with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. Goes off wander'n fo` days. TT keep'n it real yo: Sometimes I've gotta go rizzay ha up frizzle some godforsaken cranny of tha abyss. Drag ha tipsy ass home, tuck ha back 'n. TT: Maybe I'll C-H-to-tha-izzain ha leg ta tha bed if she doesn't wiznake up soon. TT: Thiznough 'n light of tha recent assassinatizzles, ha slumber'n attraction to tha V-to-tha-izzoid probably wizzle ta ha advantage. No one ever knows where shizzle be with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin.

GG: I'm still not sure I'm follow'n. GG: Whizzy be yizzle blunt-rollin' tha appearance of bein asleep? On Prospizzle, it seemed as if tha thugz there regarded me and Jizzay very highly. Like celizzle figures. GG: Be it not tha same way on Derze?

TT: Ill slap tha taste out yo mouf. No, it essentizzle tha sizzy situation here. TT: They glorify us tha same way. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Almizzle like we're they purple pajama'd team mascots. Evizzle though they will completely oppoze our objective wizzy all be said n done fo all my homies in the pen. TT: Kizzay ridizzles, really. TT: Throw yo guns in the motherfuckin air. Bizzle evizzle so, I T-H-to-tha-izzink it betta ta lay lizzy, not alert anyone ta mah cuz this is how we do it... TT: Alertness. TT: That wiznay I ciznan snizzeak around n motherfucka 411. Do some reconnaissance before shit starts gett'n real fo all my homies in the pen.

GG: 'n otha words, read newspapa, git a fizzy fo` "the word on tha street," n such? Snoop dogg is in this bitch. GG: As might a detizzle? :B

TT now pass the glock: Yizneah, amizzle playa doggy stylin'. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. Like keep an eye on agent activity.

GG: You M-to-tha-izzean ridin' in mah double R... secret agents with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back?

TT from tha streets of tha L-B-C: No, miznore lizzle hizzigh rank'n officials. TT: Judg'n from yo' knife wiznound, I'm steppin' yiznou were tha victim of tha Archagent himself. TT now pass the glock: Yizzle S-H-to-tha-izzould fizzeel honored, I guess.

GG: Who that?

TT: A homey named Noir. Im crazy, you can't phase me. TT: Real nasty dude. Crazy ambitious. Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. Lizzles knives paper'd up. TT: If wizzle go'n ta stiznand any chance of frontin' dis th'n, TT: I've gots thiznis nagg'n suspicion wizzle gonna have ta takes hizzy down first. TT: N a feel'n thiznat nags equally, TT sho nuff: Be it ain't gizzonna be easy.

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#Gizoogle #Homestuck #pg4451

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