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grand-theft-carbohydrates · 1 month ago

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--Ode to Grief #5--

"My voice wasn't always this deep," the king said, apropos of nothing.

He paused for a moment, confused. He had intended to say something else and did not quite understand why he wanted to tell this particular story or tell it to Gao Jianli of all people. It was not some dangerous secret or a juicy bit of gossip. Yet he wished for it to be heard.

The musician startled at the sound of the king's voice. The zhu in his lap stuttered and fell silent like a shy maiden. He did not remove the blindfold but the king could not shake the feeling that he was being observed from behind the silk, perhaps on a level deeper than the human eye could penetrate.

"I was not a skilled orator as a boy," the king cleared his throat and resolved to continue. A sovereign should never leave things half-done, he'd learned that at the knee. "I had a weak voice. Shrill. By age nine, it had not improved, and Mother was unsatisfied with me. My father would send for me soon and name me heir. If the future king could not speak with gravitas, he would not be obeyed. So, Mother came up with a plan. One day, I caught a bad cold, and she locked me in my room for four days. During this time, she made me read aloud from The Way and Virtue for two sichen every day. I was not allowed to drink any water. I learned quickly not to cry about it because it only made me thirstier. As you might have guessed, this made me go completely hoarse. In fact, when Mother finally let me out, I went totally mute for half a month. It hurt even to swallow; a spoonful of porridge felt like broken splinters. For a time, I was terrified that I might never speak again. Of course, this proved unwarranted. I made a full recovery, and my voice became much deeper."

The king had been smiling when he recounted this story. It was one of his fonder memories, like a rare gem that was too fragile to be worn and must be kept tucked away in a silk pouch. It was proof that Mother had truly cared for him once upon a time, despite her harshness and eventual betrayal. Other mothers filled their children's pockets with useless trinkets, hugs and kisses, and gentle, whispered words. He had indelible proof of her love wrought into his flesh. Mother had seen greatness in him before anyone else. She knew he was worthy of being a king. That was why she had put so much effort into improving him. Where nature had failed, she took it into her own hands to correct.

He expected Gao Jianli to appreciate the story in the same way. But the look on the musician's face made him stop short. He had taken off his blindfold, there was no awe in his eyes, only pity.

"It must have been very painful," Gao Jianli whispered.

"What's a little pain in the grand scheme of things?" the king replied with a laugh, amused by this girlish sentiment. "One suffers for a brief moment and earns a lifetime of benefits from it. Besides, I hardly remember it now."

The musician did not answer. He plucked a few notes on the zhu, and they sounded like raindrops falling on a hot terracotta roof. A gentle pitter-patter followed by the hiss of rising steam, like a tiny, sorrowful sigh. King Ying Zheng felt a strange pang answer from within his chest, a tenderness almost bordering on pain, like a hand covering a bruise.

The king frowned and shook out his sleeves as if to dislodge that strange feeling, "there was something else I've been meaning to tell you."

The strings fell abruptly silent. Gao Jianli did not raise his head but sat there waiting, still as a stone relief.

The king continued, "You must have guessed by now that I don't intend to keep you locked up forever."

"No," Gao Jianli replied, "that would be utterly pointless."

"Good, so you've considered the possibility," the king was pleased. The musician of Yan was proving to be very receptive. He was looking forward to adding another rare talent to his collection.

"I've long since made peace with the idea," Gao Jianli put aside the zhu and pressed his forehead to the king's stockinged feet. "Mighty King of Qin, if you are as merciful as you are great, I beg you to grant me one last request. Bury me with Jing Ke in the peach orchard outside the city. I don't need any sacrifices or a tomb. Just lay me down by his side, close enough for our hands to touch."

The king was confused for a moment, then he became amused and slightly insulted. Why did everyone always rush to assume the worst of him? "You are mistaken, Musician of Yan. I don't plan on executing you either."

Gao Jianli raised his head slowly, like a man emerging from a dream. The news did not seem to please or shock him, "why not?"

Why not? The king looked down at him sharply, unsure if the musician was ribbing him--because who on earth would quibble over their own death? The expression on the musician's face gave him pause. It was not one of mockery--in fact, it was not an expression he recognized. Gao Jianli's lips were pressed into a thin, bloodless line, and there was a strange light in his eyes, both vacant and feverish at the same time.

"You are a rare and gifted man," answered the king, disconcerted but concealling it well, "killing you would be an affront to Heaven. The people would curse my name to the Eastern Sea and back."

"So it's the music you want," Gao Jianli said dreamily, "I'm just a pair of hands."

That remark struck surprisingly close to home. I was right to take these precautions, the king thought to himself. The man was too observant by far. Out loud, he continued, "By your definition, a king would just be a royal seal and a pair of flapping lips. I seek the spirit that animates those hands."

"What will you have me do?"

"I want to make you my Court Composer," the king let his voice drop to a warmer timbre. "You will have free reign of the palace, a yearly stipend of three hundred liang in silver, and the opportunity to perform for the greatest men of the realm, not just from Qin but from every kingdom. Once I unite the empire, all under Heaven will be your stage."

"All under Heaven," Gao Jianli repeated dully, "after you conquer it."

"That's right," let him steep in the idea for a bit; he'll get used to it eventually. They all will. "However, there is one thing you must do first."

"I accept."

"You've not heard my terms yet," the king chuckled. Don't come crying to me later, saying I hadn't been clear enough. The King of Qin had been called many things in his life; judicious, over-ambitious, cold-blooded… but never underhanded. His deeds, be they harsh or fair, were always conducted in the open, in plain black and white.

"Nevertheless, I know them," Gao Jianli had started to tremble like a leaf. The king could hear his teeth clattering like a cup full of dice. "You need my hands intact, of course; otherwise, there'd be no point in keeping me around. You said I'd have free reign of the palace so I can keep my feet. That leaves only one thing that could threaten you--or should I say, a pair," his voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper, "I accept these terms. They are as fair as circumstances permit. I can live without my eyes."

Notes:

Ying Zheng's force masc (am i using this word correctly???) is an inverted mirror to castration. After castration, boys were confined to a room for 4 days where they were not allowed to drink any water. During this time they either healed or died. Both processes result in permanant changes to their voice, but in opposite directions.

i was also inspired by the anecdotal story of Tab Hunter, who was a closeted hollywood icon from the 50s, known for his "beefcake" roles. His agent thought his voice wasn't macho enough, and made him scream himself hoarse when he had a cold. something something masculinity is a performance and a prison.

#my writing #qin shi huang #ying zheng #gao jianli

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navithescribe · 11 months ago

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So, to prove I am not dead, here's a WIP on a Yan!DonniexReader oneshot

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

It was almost 1:00 in the morning. Donatello had spent all day working on a new circuit. He was close to finishing… but something was disturbing him. A pair of eyes were on the back of his neck, they had been for several seconds now. 34,07 seconds to be exact.

He smiled to himself.

“How long are you planning on just standing there and just watch?” he spoke up.

He pushed up his goggles and turned out on his swivel chair to face the doorway.

There you stood, half hiding behind the door, looking at him.

You were in your pjs and held your pillow in your arms.

This was the third night in a row.

While Donnie was working on something, which usually lasted until the late hours, you woke up and went to him because you knew he was still awake.

“Another nightmare?” he then asked right out.

You nodded.

“I’ll be right there.”

He put his tools away before getting up from his chair and walked with you to the living room area and plopped down on the couch.

You looked pale. You had dark circles under your eyes.

Donatello felt bad you had to suffer in through the nights, but it was the only way. It was for your own good…

“Tell me about it.” he commanded softly, as he reached a hand up to stroke your back your hair.

“It was the same as the others…” you muttered.

Your gaze was focused on your hands fidgeting, on your lap.

You were still wearing the beaded bracelet he had made you… Good.

“A dark figure… a man… or something else… chasing me…” Your voice was so quiet, “he kept demanding I returned to him… that I could never escape…”

“It’s only a dream, darling.” Donnie kissed your head.

“I know but-“

“But what?”

“… It feels like more than just a dream.” You sighed.

Donnie felt a lump grow in his throat. Dear god, don’t let her realise…

“It feels like… like a memory.” You finally said it.

Donnie pulled you close, hugging you tightly.

“It was only a dream.” He murmured more slowly.

You went quiet.

There was no way you could remember.

You shouldn’t remember.

He had made sure of that…

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Things are still pretty rough, but it's getting better little by little. I only ask for some patience because I promise I am working on the good days, and there are more good days than bad days lately. 💜

#wip #yandere donnie #yandere donnie x reader #oneshot #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise donnie x y/n #rise donnie x reader #rise donatello x reader #donatello x y/n #rottmnt fan fic #rise donnatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #tmnt #i am not dead #thing are slowly getting better

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lovezbrownies · 6 months ago

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Is this an act of love? (Yan!Military Chief x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: You ignore your wife in favor of a book, which has her infuriarated. But what happens when you become upset over the destruction of the book?

Gen Ludenhart x Reader

Warnings: Past physical torture to reader, reader fears Gen, Gen threatens you, no use of Y/N, possible minor character death.

It’s been 5 years since you’ve been forced to marry Gen Ludenhart. You had tried as hard as you could to get away from her— yet she always found you and when she did she would make it very clear how upset she was with you. Using various methods of torture, letting you stew in the pain and suffering before healing you with her magic. The honorable Chief of Military Gen Ludenhart was all but honorable.

However, now that 3 years have passed since your last failure you’ve accepted the situation. You will only ever die if your wife allows it, which means you’re essentially immortal. Since you’ve been so good, Gen would buy you everything you’d want, no matter the price. This meant you had every new gadget and every book that has ever piqued your interest.

You were okay with this arrangement. At least now you aren’t being tortured, and you can focus on whatever activity you want– well with your clingy wife in tow, but you’ve gotten used to her presence and can completely forget if she was there to begin with. Which brings up the newest issue in your marriage with the coddling devil.

The past two months you’ve been obsessed with this book series that Gen bought for you one random day. It was a very long series with very long books, so to say the least it has consumed much of your time. Whenever Gen would nag you over the lack of attention you would hum, give her a hug, a few pats on the head and you’d go back to reading the story. Gen usually wasn’t bothered by your occasional hyper fixation on certain things, they always come and go, you’ll always come back to her for affections.

Yet. Gen stood behind the library’s couch tapping her foot furiously against the floor. “Well? Aren’t you going to greet me, my love.” Her voice was angry and strained, glaring down at your laid back form, you were relaxed and very immersed into your book. So much so that you hadn’t heard your wife call out for you when she got back home. “Hm..? Oh, uh, sorry… I’m… a bit busy…” You’d trail off every now and then from how focused you were on reading how the main character is going to triumph in her final battle.

Gen, tired with all the lack of affection, yanked the book out of your hands. “Hey!! Give it back! I haven’t finished it yet!!” You got up, reaching for your book but Gen hid it behind her back. Pushing you back down on the couch she began lecturing you about how hurt she felt over how you’ve been neglecting her recently. But in all honesty every word went in one ear and out the other, all your brain could possibly think of was the book and how the hero will prevail in her battle.

Your wife knew that you weren’t there at all, you’d do the same expression anytime you wished to escape the harsh reality and put yourself into your fantasy worlds. Sighing she softly threw the book next to you. “Nevermind, just come to me when you finish the stupid book. I will know if you don’t.” You smiled as you tried to find the page you were last on, Gen walked away dejected and hurt.

Thankfully you weren’t stupid, and immediately went to her when you finished the series, finally. But this is not how she wanted it to be. You and Gen lying on her bed, your body on top of hers, head snuggling into her chest as you blabbered on about the book’s hero, Liya something or other. “-And then as soon as the battle ended Liya looked all over for her lover, but she found them half dead, and so with the last bit of her power she gave it all away just to make sure her lover stays alive, then-”

Gen loved that you were talking to her with little to no fear but if she hears you squeal over this Liya woman one more time she might kill the author and burn every copy of the series. “Darling,” Gen cut off your rambling. “Has anything else happened to you today? Have you left that book at all? Gone out for a bit of fresh air, hm?” You looked up at her, shook your head no, and continued with what you were saying. Gen could only rub her hands across your back and nod along whenever you looked up to check if she was actually listening.

It’s been a long tiring week, most of the time Gen’s been busy with work, so when she would come home she would always ask for peace and quiet and for you to cuddle her to sleep. Come Friday morning, what she didn’t expect was to wake up and find you reading one of the wretched books of the series. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve finished the series and you’re still consuming that garbage?

Usually in these types of situations she’d let you go shopping with her, but not even the outside world can pull you away from the imaginary fairytale you’ve been so obsessed over. “Dear. Get back to sleep.” Gen commanded, she used a tone of voice she knew you feared, and yet, it had no effect. “Yes, Gen, just a moment… One more chapter…” Gen sighed, her anger bubbling up. “No. No moments. No chapters. Sleep now or I’ll burn every book I’ve bought you.” Thankfully this time you listened, your body tensed as you quickly put the book down on your bedside table and laid back down. You woke up an hour later to Gen’s arms caging you to her, not allowing you to pick up your book at all.

You tried as hard as you could to weasel your way out of her grasp and run off to the library with your beloved book. Gen only squeezed you harder, pulled you tighter, and buried her head into you further. She was tired of your games, maybe this was some sick twisted way of getting back at her for all the pain she’s inflicted upon you.

Today, Gen finally managed to pull you away from your fantasy world and outside to a restaurant. Yet you still kept talking about the book, well that was before Gen cut you off. “One more word about that book and I will slam you on this table and fuck you in front of everyone here.” Her voice was low and threatening, the threat shocking you into silence you didn’t dare speak, allowing Gen to dominate the conversation as she usually does.

Today’s outing was actually quite enjoyable for once, aside from that one threat, all went smoothly. Gen took you out to your favorite restaurant, let you go wild in your favorite stores, and then finally went to the park to enjoy the scenery and eat ice cream together, which you were currently doing. It almost felt like a normal relationship, but it wasn’t, you won’t dwell on that however since it only ever brings pain.

At the moment you were both sitting on one of the park benches, ice creams in hand. “Gen?” Your wife hums in response, you snuggled closer to her side. “I really appreciated what you did for me today.” Oh. Oh, she could just eat you whole. Her sweet spouse. If she can keep this up for a while you might completely forget about that stupid character and focus on her once again. “Anything for you, honey. I love you.” Of course you never reciprocate her “I love you’s’’ but it doesn't matter. A little more solitude and isolation will fix that.

Gen and you finally made it home, it’s now late at night you move ahead of your wife, looking around for your book in the living room. “Oh would you look at that, my love, you walked 10,000 steps! We should go ou-” A sharp pained gasp interrupted Gen. Gen, concerned, hurried over to the fireplace, where you stood. Looking down at the blazing fire she saw small remnants of your book, used as fire kindle.

It was quite- No, it was silent, not a single peep was uttered. You were staring down at the fire, emotionless, while Gen was solely focused on you and your reactions. You just stood there, unmoving, unchanging. “Do you want me to buy the books again, dear?” Gen broke the silence, trying her hardest to stay cool, so you don’t break down in tears. If this has been at the beginning of your relationship she wouldn’t have been so quick to offer something like that, she’d tell you to suck it up and move on. You’ve obviously affected her over the years.

Meanwhile, you stood still, unfeeling. You knew she’d do something like this, Gen’s loyal little maid. Reina. “No… It’s fine. This was inevitable.” Inevitable? What the hell are you talking about? Gen frowned, she turned her body fully to you, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean ‘inevitable’? How would the torching of your beloved books be inevitable, my love?” For the first time you finally showed a hint of emotion. Your lips pursed, your eyebrows furrowed and you turned to sit on one of the armchairs in the room.

Gen followed after you, kneeling on her knees in front of your seated form, her eyes begging for an answer. Wow, did she turn soft. Gen grabbed your hands, engulfing them in her much larger hands. A sigh escaped out of you, noticing how open she’s been emotionally, how loving she’s being, how sincere. “I- Well. You’ve been so open about how you’ve hated my books… I just thought eventually you would do something about it,” You looked off to the side sheepishly, not used to being so vulnerable to her.

You continued, ‘’I thought you’d probably tell Reina to burn it while we were gone and I guess I’m right…” Gen frowned, never would she ever do something like that! Why in the world would you ever assume that! Sure she threatened to burn the damned books for a while but they were all empty threats! You had to have known she was just kidding! Right? But then it clicked. The only person to be able to do something like that would be Reina. Sure the mansion has its fair share of servants but Reina served the parts of the mansion you resided in.

Gen got up, gave you a quick kiss on your head and said, “Give me a moment, dear, this will all be resolved soon.” You stared at her as she walked off, curious as to what would happen. You wanted to follow after her and see what she’s doing but knowing her she probably is going to rage at Reina. So you stayed put, not wanting to incur her wrath anymore. You’ve experienced enough pain for a lifetime.

And it seems you were eternally grateful for not following her. The next day Gen told you to accompany her and interview new personal servants for your wing of the mansion. You don’t know what happened to Reina and you did not want to know. She never really liked you to begin with. So why bother to worry for her?

‘Gen’s attitude is rubbing off on me too much…’

#yandere x reader #x reader #yandere #oc x reader #yandere x darling #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #gender neutral #Gn reader #gnreader #Yandere x reader #Yandere x Reader #Female #female yandere #Female yandere #female yandere x reader #Female yandere x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Graduation Teaser

A teaser for my yan final girl and slasher/loser reader fic. Shooting to be done by tomorrow, but no promises. Reader's gender is never stated, but in the full fic they have a penis as there will be smut. Warnings for bullying/Reader having trauma from said bullying

"Class of 20XX, bitches!"

They say its supposed to be the highlight of any young adult's life.

The crossroads between the freedom of youth and the cruel reality those just stepping out into the world have to face.

You wish...

You've known that reality for a long time now. Whenever your alarm rang for school. Everytime you hid in crowds and bathrooms praying for just one normal day. When you had to learn how to treat cuts and cover bruises- That bitter, spiteful reality has beaten you, broken you, and spat you back years before your life truly began...

And now the culprits would meet their happy end.

You could see them on the stage now- Smiling and waving to family. Hugging each other and shedding a fraction of the tears you've spilled over the years with more happiness than your anguish filled heart had known since it all began. You nearly lost what little food you've been able to keep down when the girl that said your value as a person was the equivalent of that of roadkill cried over the microphone about starting school to become a nurse. It's not a big surprise to you, really, but the thought of what her future patients will have to endure or being one of those patients made you sick to your stomach. Why did they make this ceremony mandatory-

You can't do it- You can't be here anymore. Why do you have to sit through everyone who's either made your life hell or turned a blind eye to your suffering have the time of theirs? It's not fair, just looking at their happy faces makes you short of breath. As you catch it, pulling on the tight collar of your robes - you overhear whispers in the surrounding crowd. Your name slips through a few pairs of lips here and there, and it's like you've been dragged kicking and screaming back to the not-so long passed yesteryears of the past. A body moves in the endless, suffocating sea. They push through and politely decline the advances of friends and acquaintances, clearing their way towards your general direction. A smile perfected by braces they cried about and still had to wear proceeding into college singles you out and fills your chest with dread.

Oh God... Not her.

You cross your middle finger with your index. Please be looking for someone else....

"H-hey! Glad I was able to catch you before you left."

Please, please, please- You whip your head around violently as if searching for some fictitious third party. Huffing, the girl snaps the manicured talons she called nails in your face. Your entire body locks up as her nails graze your cheek. You attempt to relax your shoulders with little gained in your favor, hoping the only slight tension in your muscles would be enough for her not to notice-

But as always, luck laughs at your pitiful prayers.

She places a hand over her mouth. "Oh, gosh- Did I scare you? I just thought you didn't hear me."

It's a struggle to force yourself to look at her. You stare anywhere close enough to her eyes to hopefully give off the impression of making eye contact. The freckles kissing the bridge of her nose. Curly strands of chestnut hair dangling from the wild mane she styled herself for the occasion and refused to stuff beneath a cap. Anything to keep you from looking into those eyes. Anything to prevent believing a word she says. She seemed happy enough just having your attention.

"I heard you, but-" You swallow, tongue feeling swollen and drilled to the floor of your mouth. You force a bit of laughter that sounds more like a bark in your ears. "I thought you were talking to someone else. Big crowd, y'know?"

Her hands fall to her chest as she exhales a sigh of relief. "Oh, Good. You've avoided me so much in school I thought you might've been terrified of me!"

What a crazy assumption.

"Aaaanyways, that's part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. Got any plans for the summer?"

Yes. Say yes. Even if it's a lie, just say-

"No."

Stupid.

"Yay!" She claps her hands together, bouncing on her heels like a child who's been given permission to stay up an hour later than their bedtime. She clears her throat, smile wavering as a blush something furious rushes to her pale cheeks. "Well, not that you have nothing to do. Since you have no plans, I was kinda maybe sorta hoping you come out with and a small group of friends to my parents cabin for a couple nights. Won't take up too much of your summer. I was just hoping we could make some final memories to cherish before we all go off to college."

She's talking as if you were apart of that group. Your eyes shoot over her shoulder, following the trail she came from. There's still enough people pushed aside that you can see the little gathering she was with before. They're all there. Ali. Bailey. Michael. Luke. Every single classmate that made you beg your parents to move you to a new school til your throat felt liked it'd bleed. Of course they said no. Too many opportunities here, and to get to any other school near-by on time you'd have to wake up when the night was still young. The world around you feels so distant until the pain of your nails piercing your palm racks up your arm.

"I... actually might be doing something around that time."

"But I haven't given you anything specific yet."

You take a step back, foot catching in your robes. It felt like you were drowning in them, and her gaze. They'd definitely kill you out there or do something much, much worse. There probably wouldn't even been enough pieces for people to find. Nobody would even look for someone like you.

"Y/n?"

Your wrists is in her hands. When did that happen? She pulls you upright and smoothes out your robes. She's a lot stronger than her gentle skin and shorter height would let on. Seriously, it's like touching cotton. A few years back her touch might've meant something, but now even thorns would feel like a soft blanket if they kept you safe from here.

"I know you haven't had the best experiences with us, but it's not just me asking you to come. Everyone wants to apologize to you. Make amends wherever we can. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

Shes told that lie before. Her knuckles brush your cheek, stroking the bone in tiny circles that instinctively draws your attention towards her and lowers your guard. Looking up, your eyes lock for the first time during the duration of your conversation.

"Y/n... I need you to be there."

You stare into her eyes....

You're going to die out there.

#Wip #yandere oc #yandere

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vynegar · 12 days ago

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vyn 5th birthday ssr, part four

how well do you remember vyn's previous cards?

same disclaimers from part one (note the extra one from usual, regarding story content)

youtube link to ShiroNaya’s video of the card story

links to previous parts: one two three

more tot stuff here

do not repost

[PART FOUR]

[36:58] Home

Vyn: Never could I have imagined that twice would I interact with him, and twice would I be injured by him.

I peered at Vyn’s profile. Although I couldn’t see any traces of what happened back then, his narration still made me shiver.

Vyn: …

Just as Vyn said, there was nothing to criticize about his actions. Then why was Zheng Yan so adamantly convinced that he was innocent, and why did he hold such profound hatred toward Vyn? Each side of the story was weighed on opposite ends of a scale, one consisting of years of suffering and anguish, the other of professional conduct and integrity of character.

Vyn: Regardless of how you see it, it would be absurd for Zheng Yan to decide to kill himself because of baseless slander. You have experience with criminal suspects, and I have also been in this field for years… yet neither of us has seen any indication that he is lying. If he truly has such mental fortitude, then I would not have seen through his mental state so easily back then.

Vyn seemed to be hinting toward a more complicated explanation.

MC: So what are you saying?

Vyn: What if there is another possibility? That he is not lying at all…

MC: I don’t understand. There’s only ever one “truth” to a matter. Even if you look at it from a different perspective, it can’t become something entirely opposite.

Vyn: That is correct. However, what if he also believes that his memories are true? From a psychological perspective, memories are not fixed. They are merely illusions fabricated by the brain.

Vyn lightly tapped his knuckles against the table, the absentminded repetition indicating he was deep in thought. The fact that I was able to read his emotions through such a subtle gesture was probably a “superpower” I had gained after being with Vyn for so long.

Vyn: Memory formation involves the strength and type of synaptic connection between neurons, which can be altered through learning and experience. Theoretically, interfering with these synaptic connections would affect the re-encoding and stability of memories, enabling someone to modify or even implant them. There are experiments proving its feasibility, especially since Zheng Yan is extremely psychologically unstable and likely has PTSD. The brain seeks to avoid suffering, so when it encounters a potential trigger for a painful memory, it becomes easier to manipulate.

MC: That’s so scary. We can’t even trust our own memories…

Vyn: Exactly. If these techniques are applied to humans, it would bring up ethical and social concerns, which is why most of this is still in the experimental stage.

MC: Then if that’s the case…

The night was dead silent. A chill ran up my spine, sharply tingling my every nerve.

MC: There was no way Zheng Yan could have tampered with his own memories.

Vyn: Right. There must be a third party involved, who is highly likely to be the true mastermind behind this.

MC: Who could it be?

I pressed on with my questioning, but Vyn shook his head with a bitter smile.

Vyn: I am only guessing here, I have no concrete evidence. This is an imaginary third party of unknown origin.

Vyn sighed. Ever since this incident had happened, he had been sighing an awful lot, though never for himself.

Vyn: I hope I am just overthinking things… Perhaps Zheng Yan really is a fool, intent on destroying himself like a moth to a flame.

He turned subtly toward the distance, where several insects were flying recklessly near the lamp on the windowsill. They seemed tireless in the night, but come morning they would all be dust on the lamp’s filament, gone at the slightest gust of wind.

Vyn: At least that way, he would be punished by the law instead of becoming a weapon in someone else’s scheme.

[...]

[40:18]

MC: Ugh… Is it… raining?

The night deepened. Perhaps because I had too much weighing on my mind, I ended up dozing off on the couch.

Hearing the pitter-patter of water made me realize that the window was still open, and I bolted upright.

MC: (Sounds like it’s coming from the bathroom.)

Vyn wasn’t here. Just as I was about to go investigate the noise, he walked over to me from the darkness.

Vyn: Why are you awake?

His hair was still dripping, soaking the collar of his shirt. Water droplets rolled steadily down the sides of his face, making it look like he had been out in the rain.

MC: You weren’t there, so I couldn’t stay sleep.

Vyn: I was just washing my face to refresh myself.

It was already past midnight, far past Vyn’s usual bedtime, which likely aggravated his already-unpleasant mood. His wet bangs drooped down on his forehead, making his unspoken emotions even more inscrutable.

MC: Trouble sleeping?

Vyn: Yes. I know this is my overthinking, but every time I close my eyes, I see Zheng Yan’s expression when he was holding the knife. He is in so much pain and despair, all because of me.

MC: That’s not true…

It was obvious that Vyn blamed himself. I protested almost reflexively, fearing he truly believed it.

Vyn: I understand your reasoning, but one’s position determines what they can see. What if I really had made an error when using psychology to interrogate him? That was the first time I had put it into practice. What if I had actually made some mistake, which caused a misunderstanding and led to his obsession?

MC: Vyn… that’s not possible.

Vyn: You were not there. How can you be so sure?

I found a towel and started to carefully dry his hair. Earlier he said that he would quietly wait for my judgment, but how could I just sit by and watch him doubt himself?

MC: Because countless times I’ve seen you use your professional knowledge to crack cases that no one else can... And on top of that, you always prioritize your patients’ health and safety over your own.

One or two times could be faked, but for this many years…

Vyn: MC…

Vyn’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, murmuring my name without forming full words.

MC: And if you really were the kind of person he said you are, if there was a chance that you really did make a mistake that caused this misunderstanding… then you wouldn’t have become the Dr. Richter, Professor Richter, and Vyn that you are today, and that I love dearly. It’s exactly because you’re such a good person that Zheng Yan would think of this plan. You’re always trying to prioritize others over yourself, but without evidence, how could Zheng Yan have been convicted? I believe in the fairness of the law, and I believe in you.

Whether I was considering the current situation or my understanding of him from these past years, Vyn was deserving of my trust. I was all-in, and wholeheartedly placed all of my weights on his end of the scale.

Vyn: …

Vyn gripped my hand. His palm was burning, the roiling emotions seeming like they might drown us both.

MC: Don’t doubt yourself, okay?

There were so many suspicious things about Zheng Yan, but Vyn was accustomed to looking to himself as the potential cause of an issue. That same exact Vyn was currently being condemned by the public online. Fate was so unfair; it always tormented the kindhearted.

I wanted to continue, but was interrupted by my phone vibrating.

Vyn: …

MC: Eirik?

The incoming call notification shocked me, but I quickly came to my senses. Vyn had his phone on mute, so when Eirik couldn’t reach him, he may have thought Vyn was refusing to answer his calls. If he was insistent on contacting Vyn despite that, then it had to be important.

MC: Should I pick up?

Although the phone was vibrating at a constant frequency, I felt like it was increasing in volume, urging us to decide immediately. Vyn’s eyes darkened as he looked at the name on the screen. He fell into thought again, for a while not responding to me. The caller, meanwhile, was persistent, waiting patiently for us.

Vyn: MC, do you remember when I said I had no evidence?

Vyn resolutely hung up the call, then looked up at me.

Vyn: We do now.

There was a seven hour time difference between Stellis and Svart; Eirik must have tried to contact Vyn shortly after waking up. I thought about his persistence despite him knowing how Vyn hated it when he contacted me, combined with the timing – because even from such a distance, Eirik had the means to be updated on everything happening in Stellis. This was too perfect to be a coincidence, therefore he must have called because of Zheng Yan.

MC: Are you saying this situation with Zheng Yan has something to do with Svart?

Vyn: To be precise, it has to do with my father. Of course, anything involving Svart also involves him…

Despite his derision, Vyn’s expression relaxed considerably.

Vyn: He must be calling to tell me who is manipulating Zheng Yan into doing all of this.

I nodded. That did seem to be the most likely answer.

MC: So do you already know who it is…?

Vyn: It is a political opponent of my father.

Despite not picking up Eirik’s call, Vyn’s tone was certain. He must have had some other basis for his conclusion, but he didn’t explain and I didn’t ask.

MC: So does this mean Zheng Yan was sent by that person to ruin you? But why? You’ve been in Stellis for so long, so why would they think to do something now…?

Vyn: It was because of last year’s Appointment Ceremony. Originally, I was staying in Stellis all these years, having less and less contact with Svart over time. They no longer saw me as a threat. The Appointment Ceremony my father held for me, however, put me back on their radar. Attacking the heir of the Haspran family is no different from attacking the head of the Haspran family himself.

I had experienced the cruelty of Svart numerous times before, but each time I became implicated, that feeling of powerlessness would return even stronger than before.

Vyn: After all, when it comes to politics, a ruined reputation is what constitutes true elimination.

MC: So that’s why they prepared Zheng Yan – they wanted to completely destroy your image and reputation. But how did they do it?

Vyn: Do you remember Kirstie Gonzalez? (1)

I hadn’t heard that name in a long time, so the sudden mention of it threw me off for a moment.

MC: Yeah, she was your patient. When I first met you, we both… !!!

The same person, displaying two completely different personalities. That alone was enough to make me think of Kirstie Gonzalez from before.

MC: She had different personalities. Do you think that…?!

Vyn: I believe that Zheng Yan also has dissociative identity disorder, although he has two personalities. Going by when the personalities were created, the main personality is James, whom I met in Svart, and Zheng Yan is an alter who awoke later. The two personalities do not share a memory, and may not even know of the other’s existence. It is rare, but not impossible.

He was convinced of his own innocence, his memories were completely different from Vyn’s, and he was a completely different person from the one Vyn remembered. It sounded nonsensical, but this explained everything that was suspicious about Zheng Yan. Everything – including how he didn’t immediately recognize Vyn and didn’t know that James was his previous name – could be explained.

Vyn: When I met James, he showed no signs whatsoever of having two personalities. His current claims that I psychologically induced his confession may be because it actually happened, only with someone else. Based on Zheng Yan’s behavior, he does not share James’s memories and may not even realize the fact that he is an alter. The interrogation that he described is very likely a memory that someone implanted when using hypnosis to cause his personality to fracture.

MC: That��s not something that can be done easily. The perpetrator must have had it planned for a long time… In that case, they must have some kind of follow-up in mind, otherwise they would have finished things off in one fell swoop.

Vyn: Are you scared?

Unlike his earlier hesitation in the car, Vyn finally asked me up-front what I was thinking.

MC: No, I’m a lawyer – I can protect myself. Besides, you want to face this head-on, and I told you I would be by your side. There’s no way I would back down.

I was certain that Eirik’s call was not only to tell Vyn the truth, but also to offer remediating measures for implicating Vyn in this. Vyn must have also thought of that, yet he still chose to hang up.

Vyn: If I accept my father’s help with all of this, then I will still be entangled in the Svart that I hate. Both in the past and present, that place is like a vortex, always trying to drag me down. By renouncing my inheritance and leaving Svart, I thought I could break free from it all. Instead, it led those people to a misunderstanding –

Vyn smiled, but the expression was frigid like the blade of a sword.

Vyn: They are relentless. Undaunted by my father’s power, they are even willing to extend their reach to Stellis… In the end, they are just subconsciously looking down on me, seeing me as a coward who can do nothing but run away. If that is the case, then I have to show them what kind of person I truly am.

He lowered his voice to his usual relaxed tone, but I could hear the subtle of anticipation in it as well.

Vyn: Moreover, how could I lose when I have you with me?

[END PART FOUR]

(1) Kirstie Gonzalez is the NPC from Vyn’s Near and Far SSR who had dissociative identity disorder.

Worldbuilding note: Based on this story, Svart should be 7 hours ahead of Stellis (when it’s shortly past midnight in Stellis, it’s roughly the time that someone in Svart would be waking up). This would be “opposite” of the real world, where China is ahead of Europe by roughly the same number of hours (depending on the country). Alternatively, Stellis is ahead of Svart, Eirik wakes up at around 5pm, and getting up late is a trait Vyn inherited from him.

#tears of themis #vyn richter #tot vyn #mo yi #tears of themis translation #tot translation

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theinnerunderrain · 2 years ago

Text

Exchanges between Women [Yan! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unconsenual kissing, deception, implications of violence, slightly suggestive content towards the end.

The Raiden Shogun was uncertain of why she had opted to keep Kunikuzushi alive, let alone assign him a name.

He emerged as a result of constructing the Shogun. She could be beginning to feel indebted to him in some way, but she restrained from attempting to control him. Perhaps that's the reason she's enabling him to stay in her residence for so long and why she's postponing implementing Miko's advice to get rid of him.

She likewise felt a twinge of guilt after witnessing him establish friendships with a young woman from the Kamisato clan, despite the fact that she knew he was too frail to handle the responsibilities of the Shogun and really had no purpose of being brought to existence. But it was too early to make any quick judgments; perhaps she'll give him a little more time to appreciate his tranquillity, or perhaps that's what she constantly tells herself.

He is harmless in any case, so there is no reason to subject him to suffering.

Given his incredibly mild nature, which prevented him from expressing any desires or demands, this was the first time in his brief life that he had ever desired for anything. She thought that if he could build a relationship outside of his comfort zone, he could be more than capable of taking care of himself. She therefore permitted him to pose as a young woman and don the attire of a lady of Inazuma because he claimed that this was the only method a timid woman like you would let him get near to you.

He was correct, despite the fact that his morals appear a little skewed. He may not yet have a firm understanding of what is good and wrong, and morality isn't her strong suit considering her understanding of it did fade over time.

The two of you got overly close after a few get-togethers and playdates. In the view of the general public, they would appear to be two close friends, but Shogun knew better and couldn't shake off that strange feeling. Kunikuzushi had a pretty physique, making it much simpler for him to abruptly pose as a woman, thus it was almost convincing.

Maybe she should halt this play before it develops into something much worse that she would later regret.

It should be fine. He's harmless.

Ei stopped at the door, positioned her delicate fingers on the doorknob, and eased it a little bit open, breathing out an unintentional sigh. It has been a few hours, so it was time for you to end this date of yours and return home. However, what she saw beyond the doorway made her shiver—you and the puppet were both nodding off against the chair. The indigo-haired man was dozing off in your lap, his dark hair spilling over the edge of your lap as you sat erect with your eyes closed. She was aware of Kunikuzushi's partiality toward you, but she may not have foreseen the extent to which he would develop feelings for you.

No, it was her fault. She should have known a fragile being such as Kunikuzushi would end up developing some sort of attachment towards others sooner or later.

Maybe she's just overthinking?

You both must have slept off after sipping some tea. Maybe it's best if she returns later, there's no point in disturbing your peace.

Ei peeks through the door's opening once more as she prepares to seal it, but as she does, she is diverted by the sound of faint shuffling. In order to get up, Kunikuzushi lifted himself off your knee, positioned himself against your lap, and leaned a little too close to you for the Shogun to consider it appropriate. She was aware that you only permitted him to approach you so closely because you believed he was a woman. Perhaps she even felt a little bad for letting him fool you in that way.

What is he…?

Your cheeks are pinched between Kunikuzushi's fingers as he chuckles lightly, causing you to squirm and turn in your sleep due to the intense discomfort.

What a mischievous child. Quite rude to be doing that to someone who's sleeping.

The Shogun let out a further sigh as she prepared to enter the room and reprimand the puppet for his uncivil behaviour and demand that he leave you alone. But once more, the Shogun comes to a stop as she observes in astonishment as Kunikuzushi leans so near to your face that his nose was practically brushing over the side of your flesh.

It was her first time seeing him allowing himself to be vulnerable to others.

He appears to study at your face before descending to give you a chaste kiss on the lips while trying to incline his head so that your lips may fit together more pleasantly. The sight was illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the drapes, which Shogun thought was reminiscent of the lovely Sakuras that would frequently bloom in spring. If it had been carried out with her approval rather than without, she would have felt it was a superb picture. She was aware of how repulsed you would be if you ever learned that a man had polluted you, given that you weren't married to him.

Poor child.

Kunikuzushi leans back and carefully traces the contour of your face with his fingertips up to your cheekbones, ending behind your ears. As he drew you closer for a second kiss, he this time put his tongue in between your lips, licked the inside of your mouth, and then chewed on your bottom lips. His eyes were half closed and his face was a bright scarlet, and when his other hand slid under your kimono, Ei couldn't help it but uttered his name.

"... Kunikuzushi."

When the Raiden stepped back, she unintentionally bumped up against the door, causing Kunikuzushi to break off his kiss and gaze at the entrance. As if he were a predator discovering his prey, his eyes appeared to turn gloomy and ominous. Both of them made eye contact, with Kunikuzushi appearing to glare at her—surprising given his generally reserved demeanour. He appeared to have been caught red-handed when his hands slipped out of your kimono, but he made no effort to apologise or explain himself.

He doesn't understand his actions were wrong.

Kunikuzushi maintains his fixed gaze on Raiden before making the shush gesture with his lips and fingers. In fear that you might wake up and realise your predicament, perhaps even causing you to lose your temper and become despondent, Raiden made no attempt to move.

No, he knows that his actions were one of sin.

Yet he doesn't care.

After all, perhaps she ought to have listened to Miko.

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merakiui · 2 years ago

Note

LISTEN- LISTEN TO ME-

VAMPIRE YAN!AZUL DHSKSNSJEBEJW HE WOULD JUST LOCK HIS DARLING AT HIS CASTLE/MANSION AND SPOIL HIS DARLING ENDLESSLY— AND HIS DARLING DOESNT CARE BEING KIDNAPPED BECAUSE AZUL HIMSELF FUCKING HANDSOME DJSBDJDBDJSNSJEN

- 🦐 anon

OMG OMG beauty and beast situation where he hides himself away because he thinks he’s a monster and so you’re kept company by two incubi (the twins) who are always shape-shifting into various animals just to secretly watch you at Azul’s request. Azul actually doesn’t hurt or terrorize you; he doesn’t visit you either, so you really just exist in this large, expansive castle that’s gathering dust and cobwebs. You could probably leave if you wanted to, but you stay because it’s not a terrible situation. You may have been kidnapped, but it doesn’t feel like you’re trapped. Weirdly enough, you still feel free.

After realizing that you’re not in any immediate danger—you hardly even know what your captor looks like because when he took you it was late at night and he was cloaked in shadows—you begin to explore the castle, poking your head in and out of luxurious rooms and walking down long halls, usually by yourself but sometimes accompanied by the twins. They love teasing you, so your candle is often blown out when you’re exploring late at night, which leaves you standing all alone in frigid darkness, where cold fingers brush against your arms and you feel breaths upon your neck.

The castle is beautiful despite its dreariness, but the dust is a major issue. You keep sneezing and coughing, and so one afternoon you decide you’ll start cleaning a room or two just to get a start on making the castle look alive again (and so your health won’t suffer). One of the twins helps you, though he easily snaps his fingers and things are arranged and cleaned with a magic that you can’t quite grasp. The other makes a mess of your cleaning supplies, toying with them like he’s a cat who’s caught a mouse. You chase him away, but he always returns, more eager than before.

They give you bits and pieces about Azul, teasing the concept of him like he’s something you can’t fathom. You learn he’s lived in this castle, secluded and alone, for nearly all of his life. He doesn’t like lots of people, but he’s fond of humankind and their inventions. Once you were cleaning and idly discussing Azul’s taste in gothic literature when Jade, who had been assisting you that day, smiled and gestured upwards at the very top of the magnificent double staircase. You’d halted your sweeping to follow his gesturing, brows furrowing in confusion.

“In fact, he’s watching us right now,” he had said, smiling deviously. And you’d tried to see what he was seeing, only catching sight of a fluttering curtain. “Why don’t you come down and introduce yourself, Azul? It’s very impolite to leave a guest in the care of someone else when you’re the host.”

There had been no sound to let you know of his departure, but Jade seemed to know when he’d left because he had sighed and shook his head in dismay, saying, “It was worth a try. You’ll have to excuse him. He’s not the most…social creature, to phrase it gently.”

Even though you’re meant to be a captive, it doesn’t feel like it. You think this Azul fellow is much kinder than he seemed when he first stole you from the comforts of your home because there is always delicious foods waiting for you in the dining room, spread out on a lengthy table like a buffet, and your room is always kept pristine and clean (the result of finely honed magic). You think he’s crept inside once because you felt another presence, but as quick as it had come it vanished. And when you woke you found your wardrobe filled with new outfits, all perfectly tailored to your exact measurements. You learn from the twins that Azul holes himself up in his study, never coming out unless it’s for good reason. You’re forbidden from entering such a sacred place, and they tell you that that’s the only rule you must follow. You can explore the grounds, the surrounding forest, the many rooms and halls, but you cannot travel down the hall that leads to his study.

Naturally, you intend to follow this rule. But can you blame your curiosity for getting the better of you when you begin to wonder about Azul? What does he look like? Why does he hide himself away? What’s so special about his study? Why is it an area forbidden to you? You aren’t stopped by either twin when you creep down the hall in search of it, but you know they’re watching you. Perhaps it was their intention to tell you of that room’s existence so that you would deliberately break the rule.

His study is dark and dusty and decrepit. It’s filled with old, thick tomes and textbooks. You spot human trinkets scattered on the desk and on shelves—pocket watches, hand mirrors that have shattered, jewelry, hair pins, and even rusted forks and spoons. You almost jump out of your skin when you spot the animals crowding the floor, but upon closer inspection you realize it’s all just taxidermy. Birds and squirrels and rabbits and even a tiny fawn. You wonder if Azul is a hunter.

The study itself is bigger than you thought and the deeper you go, the colder the environment becomes. Detached and unwelcome—an ominous slice of space meant to scare and unsettle. An old grandfather clock calls out the passing seconds in disconcerting tick-tocks. You eye portraits of pinned butterflies in all colors and sizes, vibrant wings spread out and arranged so carefully. And at the very end of the hall, there are glass doors that open onto a large balcony. Moonlight filters in, illuminating floating dust motes and a bookshelf filled with classic literature: gothic poetry and horrors. You pluck a book from the shelf at random and leaf through its pages, eyeing sonnets about nature and love and fleeting seasons.

And when you turn to your right, your eyes fall upon the figure who looms over you, sharp, glacial eyes pinned on your form. And though his features are obscured in the hood of his cloak, you can partially recognize the formal attire he wears, nearly Victorian in design. Your mouth hangs open in surprise and then it shuts and you flinch away so quickly that your back hits the shelf. It shudders with the disturbance, but thankfully nothing falls.

Foolishly, you try to find an excuse, but no words will come out and so you’re left desperately opening and closing your mouth. He stares at you, his eyes narrowed, and then he holds his hand out. It’s pale in the moonlight, almost like porcelain, and his thin fingers curl impatiently. Shakily, you place your palm in his and he blinks down at it. His hand is deathly cold in yours; you feel as if you’ve just touched a frozen corpse. The man pulls his hand from yours with a scoff.

“The book,” he demands, voice mean and harsh.

Your arm quickly falls to your side. “Right. Sorry. H-Here you go.” You hand it over to him, and he swipes it from you with a huff. “I’m sorry. I… I know I wasn’t supposed to come here, but I was curious and—” You stop yourself, watching the way in which he flicks his wrist to send the novel back to its place by way of magic. “You’re Azul, aren’t you?”

He turns away from you, his cloak swishing with the movement. “That matters not. Now that you’ve had your fill of snooping through my belongings so rudely, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Unless you’d rather stay and become my next taxidermy project.”

You try to object and insist that you were only curious, but some force is already guiding you to the exit. You struggle against it, but it doesn’t relent, firmly pushing you in the direction you came from. Azul stands within his crowded study, in the center of a little path cut out for him to walk through, and he’s framed in crisp, silver moonlight. His arms fold disapprovingly over his chest, and you sneak one last glance at him before the door to his study slams with a resonating bang that has the portraits on the walls trembling.

You’re a little shaken when you creep back to your room, your mind replaying the scene in a loop. Floyd’s waiting for you when you return, lounging on your bed in his human form, his spade-shaped tail flicking in delight. He brightens when he sees you, devilish with glee, and asks if you liked Azul’s study. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but you would’ve preferred to spend a little more time feeding your curiosity.

“He’s got lotsa interesting stuff in there.” Floyd sits up and stretches, all nonchalance despite the morbid nature of his next statement. “Surprised Shrimpy didn’t become his next interesting thing.”

“What… What does that mean?”

“All of Azul’s meals are…preserved in time,” Jade answers, suddenly standing at your side. He greets you with a pleasant smile and a bow. “You’ve seen his little menagerie, have you not?”

“The taxidermy?”

“Indeed.”

Floyd pats the empty space on the bed, and you sink into it slowly.

“So… So he only eats their organs and stuffs them?”

“Not quite. But a brilliant guess nonetheless.”

You glare at Jade, who merely continues to smile. Floyd giggles and flops down beside you. His tail curls around your wrist, squeezing playfully. “We get to eat the insides. Azul’s only after the blood. Ah, but he hasn’t eaten anythin’ in years, yeah?”

Jade considers the question before nodding. “I’m afraid so. A shame. He could benefit from a fulfilling meal.”

“Then… Then I’ll cook something for him! He shouldn’t have to wither away. I’ll make him a feast!”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. The meals humans consume aren’t very filling to creatures like us. It only scratches an itch, but the hunger will remain.” Jade hums thoughtfully. “Although… Well, there is one way. Oh, but I couldn’t possibly ask this of you.”

Floyd catches on immediately, perking up with a pout. “Shrimpy’s nice and all, but we couldn’t force the load on ya. That’d be unfair...”

“What? What is it?” Your nerves crackle with suspicion when the twins turn away from you, hanging onto one another as if in mourning. “Seriously… What can I do? I want to help…and apologize for snooping. So please tell me what I can do to make it up to him.”

Their backs are turned to you as you sit there in all-consuming silence, so you fail to notice the smirks they exchange. But you can hear it in their tones when they speak in perfect unison.

“You’ll just need to sign a little promise for us.”

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #🦐 anon #vampire azul my beloved <3 #vampire azul

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mytalemyworld · 1 year ago

Text

Song Yan: I can guarantee I'll be good to you. I'll be good to you everyday. I'll never betray you nor neglect you. I'll try my best to create a better life for you. I can't guarantee if I am good enough to meet the requirements of you and your family. I know it's hard for you. I know if we're really being together, you'll have to suffer. I understand. But you have to stop coming into my life like this. Be together or never see each other. Make a decision.

This show give me all the angst I need. (For the fluff, I trust King The Land. But I am a hopeless case, seeking for something that can make my heart ache) And until this point it had been going very well even with some additions that don't happen in the source novel. I was okay with the changes because they suited the story and made the show more emotional.

But then...After this scene, I don't know why, they chose to go down a different path and lost the perfect opportunity to give us a deeper emotional aspect. We watched a bunch of filler episodes then they decided to go back to the source again but I felt like it wasn't a good pay-off for it. What a huge disappointment.

This scene was seriously good, don't get me wrong. It's one of my favorites both in the novel and the show. The extra shot to the boiling porridge was a nice detail. They tried to give many little things, the characters showed their vulnerability and mindset clearly...so a turning point very much for them and for the viewers. After this, I needed to see/watch the emotional turbulance, because this was implied before, no, not implied, said by the character himself.

"Some wounds, when I was young I took a hit, I was fine, and recovered quickly, but if it happens again at this age, it will be fatal."

The thing they didn't show in the show but happened in the novel is that her being silent here seriously ruined him. He became more depressed. The man who is a responsible firefighter got drunk for the first time after her silent rejection despite the fact that he might be called for an emergency mission at any time.

But he didn't blame her. He knew her so well and still defended her against his cousin. In the show this conversation between the cousins happened during a breakfast in a very normal way.

Sigh.

Zhai Miao: Didn't you say it would be better not to see each other? Then don't. Song Yan: But she came.

Also I don't know why they didn't show the importance of this line. It was a critical point to understand why he can forgive her despite everything she did.

As long as she comes back to him and shows what she feels, he is ready to take a step towards her. Because this is their dynamic. It started when she chose to go with her brother at the skate park. The next day she went to him and insisted that she would stay with him and he silently accepted her apology in the novel. The same scene was shown in the beginning of the episode but they didn't show what happened the next day part and we never got an explanation about how they were reconciled later. I mean, to me, this is so important to understand ML's mindset and feelings about her. They have had such a weird relationship from the very beginning and some scenes should be helpful not confusing.

End of the rant, I guess. I'll continue watching it, because like I said, they give me good kind of angst and the plot still has potential. Also I look forward to watching how my other favorite parts of the novel will be adapted.

#fireworks of my heart #cdrama #yang yang #wang churan #thoughts

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translations-by-aiimee · 1 year ago

Text

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 55

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is the product of my limited knowledge of Chinese characters as I attempt to learn the language. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕

Chapter 55

Light rain hit the window pane. The world was dark and gloomy, the greyness extending into the room. There was a smell of musk around them, mixed with the smell of old mould. Their clothes were scattered all over the floor. The two of them were entangled, burning with desire, stuck together like glue.

It was rare for them to be so close, and the two of them were unconsciously indulging each other. Lin Yan straddled Xiao Yu's thighs, heaving up and down half-accommodatingly and half-initiating. His whole body spasmed, hands grasping at him like a life-saving straw. He didn't know why he was so urgent. The ghost couldn't control himself. He wanted nothing more than to penetrate him, to crush him into his arms after thirsting for so long.

The abstinence and clarity that filled the place where a scholar studied hard were replaced with what seemed to be an aphrodisiac fragrance in the air, which ground his whole body to ashes and filled up every square inch of space. Books surrounded the places he placed his hands and feet. The Confucian classics, history, philosophy and literature, Zhu Xi's Neo Confucianism, the monarch and his subjects, the father and son, the way to become an official, all solemn and dignified, scrutinizing these two people proclaiming their lust in the daytime. The more he says he can't, the more he wants it, and it's difficult to control himself.

Suddenly remembering that Xiao Yu said that the house's master was still there, he hurriedly suppressed his whimpers and groans, not daring to make a sound. He gritted his teeth and endured the sweet suffering. Xiao Yu wrapped his arms around his waist and said softly: "This is our home. . . "

There was a throbbing in his heart, and he slid across Xiao Yu, as if secretly stealing this love under the gaze of his old lover, a thrilling sense of revenge.

"Xiao Lang. . ." he murmured. Xiao Yu shook his head and cupped his chin: "Lin Yan. Look at me, Lin Yan."

Their eyes meet. The softness in his heart made his eyes inexplicably moist. He hugged him, wanting this to last forever, a most extravagant, absurd and unrealistic wish.

Under the gentleness of the ghost, he turned into a guqin that stopped on the highest note, and whose strings were about to break. Finally, he couldn't bear the friction behind him, and he came into Xiao Yu's hands. The ghost then retreated from his body. Because he hadn't been satisfied, he hugged Lin Yan and couldn't stop struggling.

"What's wrong?" Lin Yan caressed his face, "Just cum inside."

Xiao Yu half-opened his eyes and smiled with difficulty: "With this yang fire covering your body, if we continue, do you want to become a ghost with me?"

Embracing him with his hand, his black hair fell down, and only the straight bridge of his nose could be seen from the side. When he climbed up on him, he slightly tilted his face. He called out to Lin Yan almost inaudibly, tilted his head and kissed his lips, contentedly sighing.

The ghost cleaned the clothes all over the floor and carried Lin Yan across the long deserted courtyard. He brought him back to the bedroom and carefully placed him on the bed. He fetched a basin of clean water and carefully wiped the evidence of their lovemaking with a towel.

Lin Yan stared at him and suddenly realized Xiao Yu didn't care about him. He suspected that he would definitely be reluctant even if he begged him. But so what? He will always bear the shadow of someone else. No one can defeat a lost love, his rival in love, which exists in the void. The biggest weight in his hands is "lose," and this alone can push him into a desperate situation, and he will lose.

Pretending to be calm, he put on his clothes and looked out the window: "Has the rain stopped?"

Xiao Yu didn't answer. The wet handkerchief suddenly fell to the ground. The ghost squatted down, rubbing his fingers against his brow as if he had a headache: "Lin Yan, I remembered something. . ."

Lin Yan struggled to help him. Xiao Yu suddenly raised his head, stared blankly at his face, and murmured: "Yihan. . ."

"What did you say?"

Xiao Yu covered his face with his hands. His slender fingers trembled slightly as he struggled: "The person I'm looking for is Duan Yihan, the young head of the Duan family in Jinyang."

"We're now in the Duan family's ancestral house. This is Yihan's bedroom."

Lin Yan jumped up from the bed. It was an extremely delicate rosewood canopy bed with pillars at the four corners and barriers at the left and right ends. The small wooden tenon was assembled into a hollowed-out square along the two columns in front, with a cover on the top called the "ceiling." The lake-green curtain was hung with silver hooks and tied to the carved floral patterns. It was so expensive that it made people nauseous, but it also brought a sense of déjà vu.

". . . He used to call me Xiao Lang."

Lin Yan staggered backwards a step.

The room was silent, but then the window pane was suddenly blown open by the wind, knocking against the wall, and the lake-coloured curtain was blown by the wind, bulging like a sail.

". . . I see." Lin Yan slowly stepped forward to help Xiao Yu up, his head muddled and his thoughts unconscious. "Let's go back. We'll talk when we go back."

Xiao Yu nodded silently and picked up the paper lantern that fell on the ground. He pinched off the burnt wick, struck it with a flint, and handed it to Lin Yan, "This is a ghost lantern. It can lead people out of the ghost realm. Take it with you and follow me. Don't look back on the road. We've been delayed for too long."

"Does it still hurt? I'll carry you." He put his hand on Lin Yan's pulse and sighed when he saw that he was trying to squirm away. "You just don't listen. If you keep tossing and turning like this, what am I going to do to pay for your life?"

Xiao Yu supported Lin Yan and he limped out of the house, following his instructions. He didn't dare turn his head and went back the same way he had come with the lantern. The rain had stopped, and the streets were filled with thick fog. He could only see the overlapping eaves and brickwork, covered in hanging red lanterns, swaying in the wind.

The pagoda he had come from was close at hand. It was strange to say, but when he stepped through the pagoda, the surrounding fog had disappeared. Even the sun had poked its head out from behind the clouds, and the puddles on the ground reflected the sun's golden light. Tourists complained about the torrential rain just now, shaking off the rain from their umbrellas.

Yin Zhou, A-Yan and the fox were waiting anxiously by the side of the road, and when they saw Lin Yan, they hurriedly stood up.

"There they are!" Yin Zhou yelled, seeing the two approach. A-Che made a seal on his palm and touched Xiao Yu's forehead. The ghost appeared out of thin air, but the others surrounded him in a circle to block him so no passers-by noticed.

"There were too many roads in there. I didn't know where to turn. Fortunately, I met Xiao Yu." Lin Yan blew out the lantern, balled it up and threw it into a trash can.

"Too many roads? What roads?"

"Here, there's a big area in the back. I'll show you around later. There are many old houses." Lin Yan pointed back and was frozen for a moment. He saw that the pagoda was only half repaired, and a yellow sign said, "Under construction, temporarily closed." Following the direction of his finger was a large area of ruins, collapsed houses, sections of dilapidated walls covered with waist-deep weeds, and several graves stood crookedly. It looked unspeakably treacherous.

Where did the ancient city go just now? Could it be that they walked into a rift of time, a mirage wrapped in thick fog? Recalling the scene in the city, he was infinitely surprised.

A-Che circled around Lin Yan, sniffing hard: "You smell like foxes, snakes, weasels, rats and wandering wild souls. Empty old houses and cemeteries are most attracted to these things."

"Forget it, let's just leave. This place is weird. Let's get out of here before it gets dark." Yin Zhou didn't care, and raised his chin at Xiao Yu, "Thank you, buddy."

Just now, he had been so vigorous that he felt uneasy walking, A-Yan looked at the two leaning on each other with a slight chill in his eyes and deliberately bumped into Xiao Yu when he passed by him: "Stay away from him if you can't afford to give him anything in return. I'll let you off just this once."

A group of people got on a tourist bus and left the ancient city as if they were fleeing. Looking back, he saw that the ruins of the ancient city were lit up with colourful lights, with performances being sung while the wild slopes in the northwest corner sank in a strange black mist. It was a gloomy and bleak place like a huge mouth wishing to swallow everything bright in one gulp.

A-Yan went out early the next morning, saying that he was going to buy clothes for the ghost marriage, leaving everyone else to recuperate in the hotel and check the information. There was a tea restaurant on the second floor of the hotel. With a room card, free snacks were provided every day from 10:00 am to 3:00 pm. A-Che was still in bed, but when he heard the news, he jumped up and pulled Lin Yan with one hand and Xiao Yu with the other. After opening the door, he stood at the door and waited, gulping strongly.

There was a seat by the window. The sun was warm, the stainless steel plate full of chocolate snacks reflecting some of the bright sunlight. Next to it was a thick stack of reprinted ancient books. The TV was broadcasting the Bundesliga*, and a table of middle-aged uncles is watching TV while playing cards. Lin Yan rested his chin in one hand and propped his tablet in front of him, trying to find clues from endless academic papers.

*(T/N: A professional association football league in Germany)

The elevator door opened with a ding. Yin Zhou appeared in the foyer with a messy head of hair and greeted the three of them hurriedly. He pulled out his chair and sat down: "Is there any progress?"

"There's plenty of information, but it's useless." Lin Yan sighed, pointing to the screen. "The heyday of Shanxi merchants was in the Qing Dynasty. They were only getting started during the Ming Dynasty. The records on this subject mainly discuss the impact of the Ming government's implementation of the emerging Chinese law on merchants and traders, and there is little information on named families."

"But there was a Duan family who exchanged grain and cloth with troops from northern towns for salt in the early Ming Dynasty. The salt merchant business started, and the founder was Duan Ruyang. But the Duan Yihan that Xiao Yu mentioned lived in the middle of the Ming Dynasty. It's hard to know how many generations he had, and besides, the best-preserved Shanxi merchant compound in the vicinity can only be traced back to the late Ming and early Qing Dynasties, and it's not easy to find a starting point from the ruins."

Yin Zhou opened a Coke and gulped a sip: "There's no kind of outstanding achievement? It's like that show on TV, the Qiao family pioneered the tea road which resulted in starting a national financing business. How impressive."

Lin Yan said innocently: "If this Duan Yihan really is me, do you think there's hope for him to start a business?"

"That's right, he's probably just as scatterbrained." Yin Zhou muttered.

"It's all so difficult." Lin Yan sighed.

"Tch, professionals have such spirit. If there's a difficulty, we try and solve it. If there are no difficulties, we will create some!" Yin Zhou smugly rolled up his sleeves, "I'll do it instead. You go and rest."

"Can you read the historical materials?"

Yin Zhou waved his hand: "You don't understand this. We have to combine various knowledge to dig deep and accumulate grain. It's better to kill thousands of people by mistake than let the wrong one go. Just watch!*"

*(T/N: Basically it's better to come up with a dozen bad ideas to find a good one than pass up on something that sounds bad but might be what works)

Lin Yan gave up his seat to Yin Zhou, rubbed his temples and went to the bathroom. He washed his face vigorously and looked up at himself in the mirror. His eyes were covered with a misty layer, and he couldn't see anything clearly. He couldn't stop himself from punching the water and scolded himself: "What the hell are you trying to do!"

Suddenly there was an extra shadow in the mirror, standing silently behind him.

Lin Yan barely squeezed out a smile: "You don't move at all. Do yu get to be scary just because you're a ghost?"

Xiao Yu wiped away the drops of water on his face and said softly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't. It sounds weird." Lin Yan turned off the tap. He turned around and leaned against the marble table, lost in thought. "It's not just for you now. I'm also a little curious. What kind of person was I?”

"It's a terrible feeling to think of something but not remember it clearly." Lin Yan smiled wryly.

Yin Zhou was staring at the screen in a daze when he returned. When he saw Lin Yan coming back, he fixed his eyes on his face. Lin Yan shook his head, and Yin Zhou followed like a sunflower fluttering in the wind.

"Is there grass on my face?" Lin Yan touched his chin.

"Tch, god, it's so similar." Yin Zhou looked at him, then at the screen, and waved at Lin Yan vigorously, "Look for yourself. Does this person look like you?"

"Like me? Is it mummy or a coffin. . ."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly stopped. On the screen was a smoky antique painting with fine brushwork and light colour with the characteristics of that era, like those hanging in the ancestral hall in the old house. Although the characters were not realistic, their facial expressions were captured very delicately. A young man with delicate features, with a bun on his head, wearing a round-collared and large-sleeved shirt, sat upright, with the corners of his mouth raised, seemingly smiling. The inscription had been scratched off by something, and its space was empty, lighter in colour than the surrounding area.

Lin Yan drew in a cold breath. The screen was turned in his direction, and he was so startled that he couldn't speak. Yin Zhou was right. The person in the painting resembled him too much. If there was a difference, it was probably in comparison to his kindness. The character in the painting had a more charming expression. He by no means looked like someone who was cold and dettached. The attitude was like he was gazing at his lover, sitting upright, but his clothes were very casual, stone green folds overlapping, that had been spread on the ground.

Xiao Yu's expression also changed, and he stretched out his hand in a daze to touch the painting on the screen, but Lin Yan blocked him: "Hey, don't touch it. It's not real."

"Is this the Duan Yihan you were talking about?"

"It's him." Xiao Yu said straightforwardly. "There's no doubt about it."

Lin Yan cast his gaze to the lower left corner: "It's a pity that there's no inscription and seal. Why would someone destroy the inscription?" He was suddenly shocked, the black tablet with no words flashed, and turned to look at the ghost: "Could it be you. . ."

"I did it." Xiao Yu turned his face away, staring out the window in a daze.

The mud-gold ancient painting on the screen appeared out of nowhere like a time-travelling ghost, like a deliberate reminder of what they once were.

It was probably a March springtime in the painting. One of them was sitting in a black lacquered chair, and the other was standing in front of the canvas with a brush, fanning out on a piece of rice paper. The two of them looked at each other and smiled. The young head of the Duan family put aside all the ledgers and tools, charming eyes like silk, gazing at his lover's obsessed expression, staring at him for so long he forgot to write, and a round drop of ink bled on the rice paper. . . Perhaps done in the study they were in today. Lin Yan deliberately asked Yin Zhou: "What are you doing?" Where did you find this? Was it in the doctoral thesis I just gave you?"

"I'm too lazy to look at that stuff." Yin Zhou disagreed. "I found it when I searched directly with keywords. The original source seems to be from a book that teaches painting, "A Closer Study of Folk Landscapes and Figures in the Ming and Qing Dynasties." It has nothing to do with what you said about their history. "

"Hey, here's the author's contact information. Do you want to ask them?" Yin Zhou rubbed his hands excitedly. "Maybe it's a descendant of the Duan family."

Just as I was talking, there was a clanging sound in the hallway. The little Daoist priest was sweating profusely and dragged two meter-long snakeskin bags. The back of his blue robe was wet with sweat. An attendant stood at the elevator entrance to welcome the guests, and, seeing his appearance, her mouth fell open for a moment, but she still asked, "Do you have a reservation, sir?"

Yin Zhou hurriedly put down the coke can to greet him: "Two dead men are getting married, not you. Why are you bringing so much?!"

The little Daoist priest glared at him: "K-Keep your voice down. Aren't you afraid of someone hearing us?!"

The two smiled at the female attendant with guilty grins and brushed it off: "We're fine by ourselves."

Lin Yan didn't care to listen to the two of them chatting. He held his phone in one hand, while Xiao Yu tightly held the other. His heart was pounding.

"Ring-ring-"

"Hello?"

The phone call connected, and Lin Yan patiently exchanged a few pleasantries. The man on the other end of the phone was a man with a Southern accent, speaking a Mandarin dialect. Maybe because he kept putting "la" at the end of his sentences, trying to make himself sound smart, he was pretty shrewd.

"Which painting are you talking about? I've published a lot of paintings and collected several ancient paintings. How do I know which one it is. . . Oh, the book about landscapes and figures in the Ming and Qing dynasties. I remember that one. It took a lot of effort. Yes, let me tell you, it took two full years, from collecting materials to organizing them and publishing the book. Hey, are you a reporter? You have to make an appointment with my secretary for an interview. . ."

Lin Yan silently raised his middle finger at Yin Zhou.

Hearing Lin Yan describe the title of the book, the number of pages and the contents of the painting several times, the talkative painter suddenly realized: "Ah, that one, you say. The person who sold that painting to me was called Duan, and I visited I made a special trip to their home in a small shitty village. Let me tell you, there are no major families in China now. They all had their homes ransacked after the founding of the People’s Republic of China. . ."

"Oh, you asked about the painting. The family said that their family was very rich in the Ming Dynasty. In the late Qing Dynasty, the opium industry collapsed, and all their things and ancestral houses that had been passed down to his generation were sold. There were only a few paintings left in the ancestral hall. I paid over five thousand yuan for each of the ancestral portraits, so it was a good deed.”

Lin Yan couldn't care less about his business dealings, so he glanced at Xiao Yu and blurted out, "Are you willing to sell it? I study history, and I've been collecting similar paintings recently."

"I'm a painter, so I don't resell pieces, but. . ." There was a long silence. Lin Yan could almost hear the other party rolling his eyes, "But if you really want to buy it, I could consider reselling it as part of a personal collection since I've finished writing my book anyways."

Lin Yan asked about the price. Yin Zhou, A-Yan and Xiao Yu all stared at him. Even A-Che put down his snacks and huddled around him. Yin Zhou kept mouthing, "Lower the price." Lin Yan picked up a piece of cheesecake to shove in his mouth only to hear the caller say: "As you know, good quality paintings from this time period are rare. I wouldn't offer it if I didn't have a large collection. Because of this, and because there is some damage to the inscription, the price should not be less than 300,000. The specifics need to be discussed in detail.”

". . . You paid 5,000 yuan, yet you're trying to sell it to me for 300,000?" Lin Yan asked in surprise, "Forget it, then. Can you give me the contact information of the seller? It's a personal matter. Yes, it's very important. "

As soon as the painter heard that he wouldn't buy it, his tone immediately turned cold. He said that he had no information about the client. Lin Yan suppressed his anger and asked, "Are you afraid I'll expose you as a low-balling cheat? I'm the one in the painting. You took my painting to print in your book so you should be prepared for a lawsuit for copyright infringement."

The man grunted and rudely hung up the phone.

They all looked at each other.

"What should we do?" Lin Yan looked at the phone. "Should we try and call again, or should we each sell a kidney first?"

Yin Zhou swallowed the cake and tapped his finger on the table: "I have an idea."

"Aren't you the person in the painting?" Yin Zhou grabbed the phone and pushed Lin Yan into the chair, "Let's make our own!"

Yin Zhou transferred Lin Yan's headshot into Photoshop. Everyone gathered around to provide opinions on colour correction, contrast adjustment, and darkening, keeping very busy. After a while, a ghostly half-body photo appeared on the desktop, like a zombie that had lived for hundreds of years. His eyes were dull, his face was grey-green and swollen, and his arms were covered with bruises. Yin Zhou overlayed this photo and Duan Yihan's portrait, transferred it to his phone and pressed the send key.

"How's this?"

"We've tried everything we could. This person must have cheated others out of lots of money. As the saying goes, he who never wrongs others does not fear the knock in the night, so the painter should. Tsk tsk."

As soon as Yin Zhou finished speaking, a text message rang out, and a message popped up, which was an address. Looking carefully, it was a village not far from there.

#bl novel #chinese novel #english translation #chinese bl #danmei #danmei novel #yaoi #yaoi novel #dig a grave to dig out a ghost #dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation

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gojhoes · 2 months ago

Text

"don't feed it"

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, tw: self-harm, blood (duh), actual literal kidnapping contents: gojo x fem!reader, vampire au, college au, no curse au, yan!gojo, possession, dubcon, s/m, p-in-v, soft dom gojo, coercion, reader is kinda dumb, pining, subjugation, praise, gojo is more tame bc he’s dead, obsession, stalking wc: 6.1k part 1

"...for the blood is the life, and thou mayest not eat the life with the flesh." deuteronomy 12:23

many and more years ago, satoru gojo died just a few days before the turn of the century. the fine details of his demise were lost on him now, as were so many memories he'd once held during his waking life.

cursed.

at first, he'd believed he was a ghost; an unsettled soul which fluttered unseen among the living. but no– women smiled sweetly at him on the street and men tipped their hats as he walked on by.

damned.

it was an adjustment at first. the earliest years were the hardest, spent mostly alone as the new sensation of thirst consumed his every moment. the night's children needn't to sleep or eat, and he could no longer stand to be in the presence of people. he had become something savage, more alike that of an animal than a person. he fed without care and developed a blatant disrespect for life, exercising no caution in the event of concealment.

cold.

an incident occurred in which he was the culprit caught the attention of a prominent cohort, introducing satoru to an entire society of the damned. it was then that he met suguru, who, despite his fate, held true to a certain standard of morals in which he preached to others. satoru kept quiet about his disagreement, choosing to view suguru as a friend and a mentor.

dead.

satoru began to linger around every corner you might pass– anything to get close enough for a taste of your scent. he loved watching the way you moved, how you'd wear your hair up off your neck now that it was getting warmer. most of all, though, he loved watching over you while you slept. you were so oblivious, so vulnerable, so alive, and satoru's obsession had come alight in full.

suguru was lounging in the sitting room, looking as ethereal as ever what with his long hair and billowing robes. a boy likely no older than seventeen sat perched on the arm of his chair, though satoru paid him little mind. his face was sallow, undereye painted red-purple– the telltale appearance of a human subjugate.

"what a surprise," said suguru, flashing a white-teethed smile. "you look troubled."

troubled? no. confused? slightly. "hello, suguru. new friend?"

the other man shrugged, his eyes raking over the boy in a way that made satoru cringe inwardly. "he's pretty, no?"

the purpose of this visit was the get advice about you, not breathe more life into a pointless debate between the two friends. satoru believed suffering shouldn't be prolonged in the way it was with subjugates, though suguru would swear up and down it was the way to go. since meeting him, satoru had seen the other go through what seemed like hundreds of them.

"finally coming around?" suguru asked, arching a dark brow. "i've been telling you for years, satoru. there is nothing quite like the devotion and the-"

satoru cut him off with an irritated sigh. "yes, yes, i know you love your playthings, but it's not like that."

the boy didn't respond to the dig; a subjugate responded only to their master. it was chilling to witness, even for satoru.

suguru scoffed. "what could you possibly have to gain from it, then?"

it wasn't a matter of winning or losing, but that mentality would be lost on someone like his friend. satoru's goal wasn't to make you into a mindless slave– he wanted to hold you, protect you, and make you his. it was an unconscious and irresistible desire to keep you by his side forever. it must have been written all over his face judging from a shake of his friend's head.

"don't be a fool, satoru," said suguru, his voice full of lazy chastisement. "this will only end one way."

satoru rolled his eyes, taking no heed to the other's comment as usual. "am i wrong to assume that you might be jealous?"

suguru pulled the boy in closer, brushing away his hair to expose the smooth skin of the subjugate's neck. "don't you have somewhere to be?"

satoru resisted the urge to make a gagging noise as he watched suguru snatch the boy's head back, and turned on his heel to exit the room. he did have somewhere to be– a date with you.

it didn't take long for satoru to find you. an innate magnetism made it easy now that he'd learned your patterns and grown used to your scent. tonight was a rare one in that you were off from work. satoru peered through your apartment window, watching as you and your friend fluttered about inside. after a few minutes, he heard you ask if she was ready to leave, and quickly melted into the shadows before either of you would be able to spot him.

the bond between you was predetermined by fate, which is why you were so sure that you'd seen him before. your soul was tied to him whether you knew it or not, though you would soon figure out why. nothing would ever be able to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

he followed far enough behind to avoid being seen until you disappeared inside a crowded bar trailed by your friend. satoru cursed her silently; there was always something or someone keeping you away from him. he supposed that he could kill her, but he'd rather die all over again than risk making you sad. so, he waited. he'd waited a century– what was another hour or two?

eventually, there you were, stumbling out the door with your brown-haired friend's arm wrapped around your waist. that familiar twinge in his chest pulled at him as it did every time he saw you, the one that billowed from the dangerous temptation to take you. he heard you laugh at something she said, and pure jealousy surged through him. who was this girl touching you like that? making you laugh? getting you piss-drunk? just how close were the two of you?

satoru dug his nails into his palms as his will began to waver. he watched as your friend guided you to the edge of the sidewalk before she turned around to answer a phone call. your friend paid no mind as you swayed and fought to stay upright against your intoxication. she didn't notice when you stumbled forward into the street, nor when satoru materialized from the shadows and reached to pull you by the arm just before a speeding car flattened you.

you gasped as his arm circled your waist, steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. the terror on your face melted into a smile and recognition bloomed in your eyes; it would've softened his anger had your friend not yelled at him right after.

"hey!" satoru whirled around and glared down at the perpetrator. "what the hell are you doing?"

you were pitifully limp in his grasp– how much did you drink tonight? never would he have ever let you be so careless, nor would he have abandoned you when you were so clearly out of it.

"she's coming with me," said satoru through gritted teeth. he had half a mind to cut her down right then, damn the consequences, but you were more important.

your friend opened her mouth to protest, but with a tilt of his head and a flash of his eyes, she choked on her words. she only swallowed and nodded before satoru turned and began leading you down the street toward his home.

***

you were in an unfamiliar room when you woke, tucked into a bed that wasn't yours. your body felt heavy as you struggled to sit upright, stripping off the covers to expose yourself to the frigid air. the only memory you possessed from the night before was shoko handing you another drink, and then... satoru, with his arms around you as you stumbled away from the bar.

how strange. maybe he'd been there with someone and you just happened to run into each other; it was a small college town. as your mind began to clear, you noticed that the clothes on your body were not the ones you'd worn last night. on the nightstand was a glass of water and what looked like tea sandwiches, but not your phone. no purse, no phone, no keys, nothing of what you'd brought to the bar was in your possession.

you surveyed the room in search of anything you might recognize or that might trigger a memory, but there was nothing. you saw that the only light was coming from a small, rectangular window near the ceiling and with the dampness of the air, you knew you'd been brought to a basement. you sprung from the bed and soared toward the bedroom door, sickening fear and dread bursting from the pit of your stomach as panic began to set in.

"hello?" you called out. your voice echoed unanswered throughout the room, working only to further raise your concern.

you reached to twist the doorknob, but it didn't budge, and it was then that your composure began to dismantle.

you pounded on the door, frantic as you cried out, "hey! what the hell is going on?! satoru!!"

this couldn't be happening, not to you. sure, kidnappings happened all the time, but never did you imagine that this nightmare would be plaguing you. did satoru drug you? were you even with him? where the fuck was he? had he left you here to die, now that he'd had his fill? your chest rose and fell rapidly as your breaths grew more labored.

a ravaged scream tore from your lungs. you weren't quite sure when it stopped, but your throat burned, raw and silenced as you let your body slump onto the floor with defeat.

you were unsure of how much time had passed when the door finally swung open to reveal satoru's tall frame. the sound made you flinch bodily as he stepped over the threshold with a smile on his face. you jumped to your feet with half a mind to sprint past him to freedom, but it was futile. instinctively, though, you inched backward from the angel of death who'd come to whisk you away at last.

he looked the same as he had the last times you'd seen him, smiling kindly while moving to close the space you were desperately working to maintain. never would you have imagined he was a sick bastard who locked people in his basement. he was so handsome, so normal, maybe a little quirky, but he'd been so nice to you...

"don't be frightened," satoru said gently. "it's all right."

your body trembled as the backs of your knees made contact with the bed. "what are you doing?" your voice was scarce more than a rasp, weak even to your own ears.

he had pulled the door behind him, sealing off your only possible escape route. you noticed then a large volume tucked under his arm which he moved to lay gingerly on the bedside table. an easy expression painted his features as he regarded you with a tilt of his head, making the white hair fall into his face.

"i'm sorry i took so long." he spoke as though this was a casual conversation, like this was normal and you weren't being held hostage in a locked room.

"why are you doing this to me?" the first of many tears began to trickle down your face.

he surged forward from across the room so quickly that you started. your body tensed, still shaking as satoru stared at you with wide, inquisitive eyes. he brought his hand to your face to cup your cheek and you shivered beneath his touch.

"and what is it that i am doing?" he whispered.

you should've felt disgusted, should've kicked him or bit him while you had him so close, but your survival instinct went quiet the moment his fingers touched your skin.

you choked on your words, tears blurring your vision. "y-you, you're- you've taken me. i don't understand."

his body was solid, unmoving with his arms caging you in an inescapable hug. "hush, now, i'm not going to hurt you. you were extremely drunk and your friend left you out on the street. i wasn't going to leave you there."

"then why did you lock me in here?"

satoru's eyes flashed but he didn't miss a beat. "i live in a bad neighborhood."

you wanted to believe him; in fact, you almost did. there was such conviction in his voice, such kindness and surety that it all suddenly made sense. he knew you'd panic. he was trying to keep you safe until he got back– it made perfect sense... almost.

"where's my stuff?" you asked. "i need my phone, shoko's probably worried-"

satoru's grip on you tightened and you let out a gasp. "you dropped it on the sidewalk and it broke. there are no outlets in here so it's charging in my room but i don't think it's going to work."

your mouth hung open as you tried to come up with a response, but it was like your brain had been shut off. you believed him, felt yourself begin to relax and submit despite some small part of you still screaming to fight. he laid his hand on your cheek again and smiled.

"i'll be back later tonight," he murmured, then gestured toward the nightstand. "now, read up. i've circled my favorite passages."

satoru turned and began to move toward the door, and your mind started to work again with the realization that he was still leaving you here. you raced forward and fell into him, taking him by surprise. you fisted your hands into the fabric of his shirt as desperate words spilled. "wait, please, please let me go. i swear i won't tell anyone, just let me go-"

in a flash, he whirled around and his large hands were circling your wrists firmly as he regarded you with a pointed look. "i can't do that. you're completely safe here. no one can hurt you now."

you let out a choked sob as he released you. how could you possibly be safe when he was literally holding you hostage? you watched, numb, as the door closed, and with it, you sank to the floor and sobbed.

***

at least the bed's comfortable, you thought, then immediately wondered if you were experiencing the beginning of Stockholm syndrome. if satoru wanted you dead, he'd have killed you a while ago. if he wanted to... use you, wouldn't he have done it by now? the speculation was making you crazy; you kept wishing he'd come back, explain himself, let you go home.

you eyed the worn volume sitting on the nightstand. upon first glance, you might've mistaken it for a holy word, but no. the book seemed to be calling you, saying read me, look at me... maybe you were starting to go insane.

several of the book's pages had been marked with small, brightly colored sticky tabs. you sighed- it wasn't like you had anything else to do. you plucked it off the table and traced your finger over the title printed in gold lettering. the night's children.

you flipped to the first tab and peered over the words.

a rare phenomenon known as rebirth can occur under the right conditions. however, these beings are not as uncommon as one might think. give or take a few poignant qualities, they appear to be just as human as they were during waking life.

waking life? beings?

the night children are not ghosts, as they have no soul. human niceties and morals are no longer relevant, and it is in their nature to possess little to no regard for life.

they do not suffer hunger or exhaustion. all five senses are remarkably heightened, particularly that of sight, smell, and sound.

common characteristics include near-translucent pallor even in the deepest of complexions, unrivaled beauty, undeniable charm, and an affinity for living in the night, given their name.

all of those descriptors matched satoru to a tee, and as you read on, your despair continued only to grow.

their most marked feature, however, is needlelike teeth which replace the ones known as canines. they are razor-sharp, used to pierce through flesh. upon first contact, it causes a euphoric sensation for their victim as they feed.

you should’ve stopped reading. you should’ve pounded on the door until the wood splintered or started searching for something to pick the lock with. it was as though another brain had taken hold of your body, responding on an instinct you couldn't decipher. you flipped to the next tab to see a page titled subjugates.

some night children may have numerous human subjugates if they so choose. these humans are uncannily attractive and stay devoted to their master or mistress for life, under a spell-like adoration. they feed on their subjugate whenever they please and follow them until they either die or are reborn themselves.

is that what this was? was satoru going to keep you as his… pet? to “feed” on you? it was sickening, absolutely dreadful, and yet, a raw curiosity urged you to read on to the next page.

mates are usually taken among these beings, though not always. mates are most commonly nonhuman, and these pairings often lead to dangerous conflicts, an intense battle of wills.

in some cases, however, a human mate will be taken, though it is unlike subjugation. once discovered, the night child is incapable of separating that tie- it becomes as necessary as feeding. it is characterized by intense obsession, lust, control, and possession…

you slammed the book shut and threw it on the bed as though it was a snake rather than a collection of pages. your chest was heaving as the information settled in. otherworldly beauty, soullessness, the confinement– satoru had found you, and if what you'd read was true, there was no way you would escape. you would die here, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you surveyed the room in a frenzy for something sharp or pointed, but it seemed that satoru had planned for everything. you were no match for someone who’d been around for much longer than you could fathom.

you dug your nails into the thin skin of your wrist, raking them downward while clenching your jaw from the pain, but this was the only option. your goal was to make it deep enough to cut through the flesh and draw as much blood as possible. if enough spilled, wouldn’t satoru come to find you and lose control? you had no choice but to keep scratching and scratching until the blood began to drip onto the floor. it was either death or an eternity of captivity.

the door busted open with a bang and there was satoru, eyes wide and pupils blown with the realization of what you were doing. your gazes met, and a beat later, you were being held up against the wall as the breath left your lungs.

“what are you doing?” his grip was iron, long fingers gripping right on your self-inflicted wounds, but you hardly felt it under the guise of your fear. his beautiful features were twisted with unbridled anger, and you realized then that you were crying again, hot tears blurring your vision and streaming down your cheeks.

“i don’t want this!” you cried pathetically. “i just want to go home, please just let me go.”

satoru’s grip didn’t waver as he regarded you with a sad expression, though you doubted he held any remorse. they have no soul. “you know i can’t do that.”

you began to sob uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut as any remaining semblance of hope was sapped from your being. there was no way he’d let you alone now. so quickly your life had become an object that no longer belonged to you.

then there was a cold hand on the side of your face, a gentle thumb brushing away your persistent tears. your eyes flew open to glimpse satoru’s kind smile, so out of place now that you knew of his… affliction.

“you’re gonna kill me,” you whimpered, staring up into his eyes desperately. “why me?”

he cocked his head to the side. "you’re a smart girl. haven’t you figured it out yet?"

your hands were shaking. your blood was trickling over his fingers, but he hardly seemed to notice as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, making you shiver despite yourself. his lips grazed over your collarbone, and you unconsciously leaned into him.

“i can make it better,” he whispered. “let me make it better.”

he didn’t have a smell, you realized. not of sweat, nor of laundry detergent or shampoo. his hands were so cold circled round your wrists, but all you felt was heat as his lips ghosted over your pulse point. how had you not noticed it before?

“i am not, and have never been, one to deny myself of my desires,” satoru went on. “you are so beautiful, so much so that upon first glance, i thought you were like me. but then i got a taste of your scent... this perfect compatibility happens only once in a millennia. i never searched for it, never thought i could be deserving, but here you are, blessing me.”

you had no choice, completely immobile in his grip– helpless prey pinned down at last, silently wondering how he could possibly make it better. satoru's lips pressed to your cheek, to your jaw, then to your neck. "hold still, 'kay?"

there was no time even to gasp when you felt the briefest of stings over your pulse point. you'd expected hot, excruciating pain, but you were met with quite the opposite. all other thoughts left your mind as pure ecstasy flowed through your body; all you could think and feel was satoru as you went limp against him.

it was as though you'd be reborn in rays of sunlight and pleasure. the truth had been set before you; this was a blessing, you realized– all satoru wanted was to protect you, to care for you in a way no one else would ever be capable of. whether you'd known it or not, you were his– you'd always been his. that's why you were so drawn to him and why he looked so familiar. it was the most intimate moment you'd experienced in your entire life, an offering to him of your heart and soul.

it was like you've known him your whole life.

"better?" he asked against your neck. you could feel his tongue sliding all over your skin, likely lapping up any of the remaining blood that had escaped. it felt like heaven, and you wondered how satoru could possibly be damned if he could make you feel like this.

your only complaint was that there wasn't more for him to take. you'd give it all to him, give him everything without hesitation, but something told you that satoru would never do it. he saw you as his, someone to keep safe and to hold until the end of time.

you relaxed against him, so overcome with pleasure and bliss that you had to let him hold you upright. "don't stop," you whined. "please, please, satoru, i-"

"shh, it's okay," said satoru. he cradled your head with one hand, urging you to look into his eyes. "any more and it'll be too much for you."

it was not the answer you wanted to hear. you wanted him to take more– you wanted to feel that euphoria and the submissive weightlessness he'd just bestowed upon you. you were stronger than he knew; you could take it, you just had to show him.

"no, i can do it, just keep going-"

satoru pulled away from you, dropping his hands from around your head. you were close to tears from how sad the separation made you. it was unreal– you wondered how it felt for him. satoru's pale cheeks were slightly flushed with your blood as he licked his lips clean.

the feeling of an orgasm, of post-run endorphins, of a blissed-out high– none of those descriptions came close to the pleasure he'd just given you. you couldn't believe you'd once had the nerve to refuse him. when before you'd been terrified, it was now clear; you belonged here, belonged to him.

you looked up at him through your lashes, inconsolable. you were begging shamelessly at this point as your body throbbed with desire. "i need more."

satoru hummed and brought your marred wrist to his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut. “i’d hate for this to go to waste.” his tongue trailed over the soft skin, lapping up every drop as his features softened in pleasure. he was so beautiful like that, and a sense of pride surged through you when you realized you were the only one who'd ever get to see him in this light.

when your arm was clean and clotted, he guided your hand down to his waistband, lower, placing your palm on top of the firm bulge. “you feel that? no one’s done that to me in decades."

a strangled sound escaped from your throat, a cross between a cry and a moan. he was entirely intoxicating, and all you wanted was to feel him closer. you were overcome with lust, so eager to please as you arched up into him. you'd been with other people before but that was naught but a memory as his hands flew to your hips and he urged you impossibly closer.

kissing satoru felt like drowning in a bath of heat. his lips moved hungrily over yours as though you'd personally been starving him for years. he was cold beneath your touch but the way his body responded to you sparked heat between the two of you.

suddenly, it wasn't enough. your voice had become scarce more than a whine. "satoru."

he dragged a hand from your collarbone, sliding over your breast, your side, your hip, resting just below your navel. chills overtook your senses; his slender fingers were spikes of ice on your skin as he took his time bunching up your shirt– likely, his shirt, and sliding it off your arms. goosebumps erupted all over as your bare breasts adjusted to the cold air.

amusement flashed in satoru's eyes as though he was in on some secret joke. "you're cold."

a second later, your back was hitting the mattress, and his arms were caging you in as he looked down at you. the lust in his eyes was intense, primal, possessive. you slipped your hands beneath the hem of his top, running them over the smooth, chilled skin of his muscled back, and he hissed between his teeth. the sound sparked a throbbing between your legs and your blood was roaring in your ears.

nothing would ever compare to the bliss of him feeding on you, but it seemed as though he was making it his mission to give you the next best thing. satoru lips trailed over your exposed skin, leaving kisses down your sternum, over your abdomen, down, down until he stopped just before his mouth reached your hips. you watched in anticipation, and when those bright blue eyes met yours, they were filled with an otherworldly fascination.

your throbbing clit was begging for relief, for even the lightest of pressure but you were completely at satoru's will, and you didn't dare ask for anything. he smiled at you before shifting his gaze to your naked cunt, and you threw your head back onto the mattress, suddenly too overwhelmed to look at him any longer. his hands were on your thighs, pulling them apart before his mouth finally made contact with your clit.

you gasped, your hips jolting toward the ceiling from the sensation. as if you didn't already feel like his prey, he began to feast on your pussy with expertise that could only be gained from thorough knowledge of a woman's body. pleasure flowed from the follicles of your hair to the tips of your toes with each swirl of his tongue over your sensitive bud. he was careful, almost timid, as if he was afraid of hurting you or scaring you, but that lasted for only a moment.

satoru's mouth disappeared and instantly, you looked down in confusion to see why he might've stopped. but he was grinning, obviously self-satisfied as he asked, "is this what you like?"

you nodded, perhaps more fervently than necessary, but instantly his tongue was back on your clit and you moaned, fisting the quilt as you tried to grind into him further. then you felt his finger slipping inside and curling as he filled you to his knuckles. your mouth fell open as he found a perfect rhythm, teasing at your sweet spot while simultaneously working your clit.

he touched you like he owned you, as though you'd been his for years and he'd learned every inch of your body and how to make you cry out. it wouldn't take much more to have you spilling over the edge, and you almost told him as much, but suddenly you were staring into his eyes and he was looking down at you with hunger.

as soon as his legs were bent on either side of your own, he brought his face down to yours. his lips were shining with your slick and he kissed you, hard, hot and desperate despite the chill of his body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. he groaned, filling your mouth with your own taste and it was then that you realized he was starting to lose control.

"when's the last time someone touched you?" you asked, suddenly curious. you wanted to know every last detail of his life, from his family to what he did in his spare time to whether he had to brush his teeth. you returned his desire to consume you tenfold.

satoru chuckled as he seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "don't worry about that, now. just let me have you– please." the words were saccharine on his tongue, and you realized then just how deadly someone like him could be. satoru was beautiful, charming, absolutely intoxicating and irresistible; no person in their right mind could possibly refuse him.

satoru's lips grazed the shell of your ear and you shivered bodily when you felt his teeth catch your lobe gently. the restraint this man must've had to exercise was downright absurd, but when he spoke, your mind went somewhere altogether different. "are you a virgin?"

you shook your head, a sudden burst of fear cutting through the haze of your desire. you wondered what he might think of your answer but you didn't want to lie– in fact, it seemed that you were incapable of it.

"good."

he slid into you slowly, filling you inch by inch. you whined loudly; the stretch was so painful yet so pleasurable, and satoru groaned, "put your hands on me. promise it'll help." his words were commands, yet the timbre of his voice was like a prayer, as if he was this close to begging.

and he was right; your hands clung to his shoulders and somehow, it made you feel safe even if you were completely at his mercy. you'd been with men before but you'd never had anyone this big. it nearly felt like you were being split in half, but the intimacy of it all, of him holding you through the pain, was almost as good as his teeth piercing your neck.

his lips brushed over your pulse as he spoke, voice low, "that's good. you're so warm."

the feeling of his lips ghosting the delicate skin of your neck made you lose your mind. your body responded to him without awareness, already addicted to his expression of thirst for your blood. your cunt tightened around him unconsciously, sucking him in as though your body was afraid to lose his cock. you needed-

"more," you cried. "please."

satoru hummed, amused. "you're ravenous." but he obliged you, pulling out until only the tip of his cock was teasing your entrance. you'd never been this needy before, as though your body now required his touch to survive.

his hips snapped into yours, burying himself so deep that your vision blurred. his pace was brutal, unrelenting as his tip nudged into your cervix with every stroke. you were so full, and when his thumb brushed over your clit, your whole body jolted beneath him.

"don't forget to breathe," he teased, looking down at you with an easy smile. how pathetic you must've seemed to him, how human you were compared to him. he wouldn't tell you this until another night, but he loved how delicate and pliable you were. part of his obsession was due to how different you were from him. he didn't need a reminder to breathe, to rest, to drink water, to listen to his body. his body had only two needs: his thirst and you.

you gave into satoru completely. a particularly hard thrust made you whimper and dig your nails into his back with a ferocity you didn't know you had. satoru grunted and captured your lips with his own again, exploring your mouth with his tongue not unlike how he'd done with your clit.

"that's it," he said. he leaned down, pressing his chest flat to yours so that his lips could capture your own once more. it was wet and messy, your tongues sliding over each other's as you moaned into his mouth. the pleasure was your undoing.

you felt a sharp sting when his teeth pulled at your lower lip, quickly soothed by a wet swipe of his tongue. you yelped loudly, tasting your own blood mixed with saliva and he moaned. your walls clenched, the pace on your clit was too perfect, the pain was sickening and you could barely breathe.

"ahh, satoru, 'm gonna-" oh, you were so pathetic at this point, completely bent to satoru's will, but it felt so right. it was divine, heavenly, nothing else mattered and would never matter to you again. his voice was steady and even, such a vast contrast to your gasping and whimpering, but there was a wicked grin on his lips as he watched you come undone.

"don't fight," he instructed. "i need to feel you."

your fingers gripped onto his soft white locks for dear life as your body convulsed uncontrollably, your orgasm tearing through you mercilessly. he kept fucking you, his two fingers bullying your clit the whole way through despite your begging him to stop. it felt so good it burned. tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you clung to him pathetically. you were just beginning to get yourself together when his thrusts grew impossibly fast and careless, and you watched starry-eyed as his mouth fell open, moaning just as pathetically. he looked human when he came, fucking perfect and beautiful with your name in his mouth.

you stayed like that for a few moments, pinned underneath him while you caught your breath and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. satoru gently pulled out, leaving you empty and cold as he settled himself beside you on the bed. your heart caved in, and you looked at him with complete adoration. his face was already returning to its pale complexion, you noticed with remorse.

"do you want more?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

you gaped at him. "more? i don't know if i can."

"well, i could do it forever, you know." was he bragging?

satoru kissed the top of your head stroked your hair as he pulled you into his bare chest, slithering an arm around your shoulders. "hush, now. you need your rest."

he drew the covers over your body, which felt so heavy now that the high had begun to wane.

"you're mine now," he whispered, pressing another light kiss to your temple. "do you understand?"

already, your body craved more– more of him, of the sweet feeling of him sucking on your neck. the addict's mindset suddenly became clear as you gingerly touched your pulse point. you felt where he'd sunk his teeth in and your mind clouded over with blissful submission.

the words spilled out of your mouth before you were aware enough to stop. "i love you."

satoru smiled, his perfect teeth stained red. you swore you saw his eyes light up in a way that seemed... human.

"you're mine," he repeated softly. "all mine, and i'm yours."

you hummed contentedly as you felt sleep begin to take you. "all mine." you weren't going to miss a single bit of your old life; satoru was going to keep you forever.

and you couldn't wait to finish that book.

@galagarts @monsieurgucchi @njutul @gojoscumslut thank u for reading <3 (i didn't edit this)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #vampire gojo #vampire au #for my freaks <3

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