#word of honor fanfiction

[polarisbibliotheque]

Staying alive - Dante and his s/o

It works, you can't tell me otherwise!

Devil May Dance - Stayin' Alive, by Bee Gees

Pairing: Dante x Reader

Summary: Oh, hellish imps. One of your least favorite demons. It doesn't help that they managed to chain you to a chair at the local Disco - luckily, Dante will surely be there to save the day. And to dance.

Author's Note: I friggin' love this song, thanks so much anon for throwing this with Dante here, it works like a charm!! I almost screamed when I saw it xD My mom is a HUGE Bee Gees fan, so I listen to their songs all the time since I was born hahahaha

I've been writing this one since you guys sent me the songs, but as I mentioned before, my health got in the way as always. I'm managing my energy and a bunch of personal issues that appeared the last couple of months, so I decided to finish this one and focus on the Halloween specials of this year! Fret not, though. I'm keeping all your suggestions and I'll write them - it's just gonna take longer than I expected "^^ Also, there's a throwback here to a very special Devil May Dance, hope you guys like it!

Well, out of all the situations you could have found yourself in, that would be your most unexpected one.

It was a stupid mistake, really. A step in a wrong place, a weaker grip on your sword, a miscalculated attack from an enemy. When you least expected, there you were, caught by a bunch of hellish imps, tied to a chair on the local Disco in town, of all places.

With the imps, well, imping around as all those annoying little creatures used to do.

They were one of your least favorite types of demons, that you had to be honest with yourself.

“You know, if you keep doing that, you’re gonna end up breaking it, stupid little thing.” You said with a sigh, head boringly held by one of your hands.

“Says the big bad devil hunter tied to a chair!” The imp taunted back, still smacking the amplifier. You could kick it into oblivion and make it fly to the next country without a plane, but with those chains you were really useless. You sighed again.

“That’s an amp, you buffoon. Its purpose is to amplify sound, if you want something to happen, you have to put some music on, jerk.” Yes, Vergil’s vocabulary got to you – then again, the best way to describe those demons was ‘buffoon’. Vergil’s colorful vocabulary did have a purpose.

“Blah blah blah – talking too much for someone in your situation!” The room exploded in a bunch of high-pitched devilish laughs and you could only roll your eyes.

“Honestly, I hope that thing breaks and electrifies you. That will serve you as a lesson, you moron.”

As if words had power, the thing immediately broke on the hellish imp hands and sent a wave of electrifying shock through its body – making it shake viciously and drop the thing immediately as it fell to the ground with the tongue sticking out of the mouth and mumbling something while unconscious. The other imps stared at you as you smiled with pride – as if you had actually done something.

“Told ya.” You perked on your chair, looking as proud as you could in that situation. Your weapons were tossed on the other side of the room – and you had already gone through the suffering of watching those buffoons playing around with your stuff until they got bored. “Keep messing around and you’ll all end up dead by stupidity.”

Suddenly, a very well-known bass line started playing – followed by a guitar, a set of lights dancing around the club and the colorful squares on the ground starting their own choreography. You raised one eyebrow, trying to understand what was going on and, really, why the Disco started functioning all of a sudden.

“WOOOHOOOOOO!!!!” Until you saw an imp at the sound booth, messing with a bunch of wires, spinning on one of the office chairs – that definitely didn’t belong to the DJ.

Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around Since I was born

Well, well, there it was. Stayin’ Alive. Quite fitting, if you had to say, given your situation. Quite ironic too – and if Destiny really was a humanoid entity, you wanted to have a serious talk to it, because why in all hells it had to be joking around with you that much?

“And now it’s alright, it’s ok, and you may look the other way…” You started muttering the lyrics, lightly tapping your foot on the colorful ground. If that song didn’t remind you of your red devil, you didn’t know what would.

Smiling to yourself, you forgot the imps for a while. You could almost see Dante at the Devil May Cry, barefoot on a lazy Saturday, dancing around the floor of the shop while you giggled at his huge desk. He had some great moves and was definitely showing off now that he had someone to dance to – you were reading, comfortably settled on his big chair, until the jukebox started playing Bee Gees and Dante couldn’t stop himself from dancing.

You didn’t last long with your book though: your red devil grabbed your hands, leading you to the center of the shop; your very own dance floor. You never really talked much about that with Dante, but you were quite certain he didn’t have many opportunities to go out dancing and have fun – even if he was the most fun-loving guy you had ever met in your life. He was a Sparda, after all, and you knew how much Dante avoided being around people so he wouldn’t put them in any sort of danger. You could almost see him dancing alone at the Devil May Cry for so many years – probably watching Saturday Night Fever on that sorry old television of his, copying Travolta’s moves and learning it all only to have fun… By himself. But now, he had a partner to share that with – and you could see in the brightness of his smile how much Dante enjoyed it.

Both of you waited a whole lifetime to start enjoying the things you had dreamed about for so long.

You snapped out of your golden memories, though, when you heard a shot and a loud sound of something falling on the ground. Furrowing your brows, you looked to the other side of the room and, lo and behold, those hellish pestering things were messing with your stuff again while prancing around to the sound of disco music.

That was something you never thought you would see in your life.

“Oi, put that down! You’ll end up breaking it!” You pointed at the imps joking around with your guns, but they only made funny faces and flipped you back as a response. You just stared at them with contempt in your face, having almost no expression but a very annoyed one. “I swear, I’m gonna hang you all by your feet when I get rid of these shackles, you fucking clowns.”

Among the laughs and the music, though, another shot rang outside the club. No one really cared about it, until the door burst open because the imps outside were yeeted in – flying through the dance floor while screaming, stamping the wall of the stage right across the club and leaving a trail of blood on it as it fell dead to the floor.

Looking at the door, you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile. Bathed in the dancing lights of the Disco, Dante strutted in – sword resting on his shoulders, arms open while his free hand held one of his guns.

“Ey, you guys started the party without me?” He stopped after taking a few steps in, illuminated by the twinkling lights on the floor and the ceiling – that cocky smile plastered on his lips.

Oh, you loved that man. So much. How couldn’t you?

“Wouldn’t call this a party when I can’t dance.” You showed him your foot chained to the chair – and you could see in those sky-blue eyes, a sort of compassion mixed with love and a little bit of pity; crowned by his endeared but still convinced smile.

“No worries, babe, your man’s here to help you.” With a wink, Dante skillfully glided through the dance floor, shooting some imps on the way. They tried to block the man, but he swept the floor with the demons with a swift move from his sword, back to his shoulder with a flowy movement. “Got the wings of Heaven on my shoes, I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose!”

You had to laugh at how happy Dante looked while gliding his feet on the colorful squares on the ground, spinning around to hit a couple more imps who tried to get to him. Facing you, Dante winked one more time, now keeping his sword on place and dual wielding Ebony and Ivory.

One step to the right, a shot at a flying imp. One step to the left, a shot at another devil who tried to run towards him. Keeping the groove, Dante spun again doing his old trick of shooting around the club and hitting multiple enemies at once – you ducked and covered your head, still laughing at his antics. Spinning his guns in his hands, Dante coordinated his steps, the beat of the song and the shots being fired.

Ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – ah – shot – stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive – and a little pause for a choreography as he faced you, as if Dante was putting on a show for you only.

“Woohoo, get ‘em, cowboy!” You had to. Dante usually had fun while fighting, but not like he was having today – it’s not like it was a difficult or life-threatening fight, so he could afford being a lot more playful and goofy.

And you had to love goofy Dante.

A couple more shots, and the imps surrounding him were all but stunned, laying on the floor while recovering for the next round. So, Dante did what he did best.

“Stayin’ aliiiiiiiiiiiiiveeeeeeee…” Singing out loud, shaking his hips, and pointing around only to finish the phrase pointing at you.

And of course, he had to be even more over the top. As the demons got up from the floor – helping each other, fighting each other, trying to stand and walk a straight line – Dante started to walk towards you in the rhythm of the song, shaking his hips with every step only to accentuate even more every beat, as if he was a cowboy who had just laced you and now was approaching his bounty.

“Pffffft, you’re ridiculously campy, cowboy…” You couldn’t help but slightly flush, hiding your face on the hand you previously leaned on while completely bored. Well, you couldn’t say you were bored anymore.

“Guilty of all charges, sheriff!” As he approached, one imp tried to get him from behind only to be kicked on the face and thrown into oblivion by Dante’s strength in the process – those sky-blue eyes never left you, though, as well as the playful smile on his lips. “You can arrest me and throw away the key!”

“Hmmm, I might keep these chains then. Maybe I can tie you to our bed when we get home.” You had to tease him back, or it wouldn’t be you and Dante. You saw a sparkle of both fun and desire inside his eyes, as Dante let out a delighted laugh – and kicked another demon on the face.

“Ha! Now that…!” And he had to let the choreography down for a couple of seconds to turn around and shot a few more demons – spinning his dual guns in his hands before doing so, and once more to put them back into their place – but quickly turning back to you; resting one of his hands on the back of your chair, leaning down so his eyes would be leveled to yours. “Is somethin’ I’d love to try, sheriff. You can tie me up and love me any day, sugar.”

You would’ve quipped back if Dante hadn’t used his free hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a quite loving kiss – given the situation you found yourselves into. The demons were still trying to get back in shape, now that some of them had run away and some others were still insisting on keeping the Disco to themselves, but with Dante around… You didn’t have to care about demons that much.

“First, let’s cut you lose, shall we?” He still had that playful tone in his voice as he let go of your lips, but as Dante kneeled on the floor to see the shackles, his eyes turned to you with nothing but care in them. “Be careful, Imma cut it down, ok?”

You nodded with certainty and kept your feet together, straining the chains as much as you could so Dante could easily cut it with his sword and not fear hurting you in the process.

“And… You’re set free, babe.” Of course, he had to use that sultry tone he always did whenever he decided to use Lucifer or Faust while sparring with you.

And you would’ve paid more attention to that, if it wasn’t for your sheer and rather intense joy of being cut from those chains.

“Ah, freedom, at last!” You got up in a jump, making him laugh with how happy you were. “Now! Who’s the first one I’m gonna hang from the ceiling, huh?!” You had your hands on your hips, staring at the imps with such a deranged fire some of them actually screamed in terror and tumbled away, flying for their lives through the smashed door.

“Will ya look at that!” Dante clapped while laughing, watching as only a few demons remained to try to stand their ground. “I’ve never seen you scaring so many demons at once!”

“See? I’m learning!” You proudly strutted towards your gear on the other side of the room, mirroring the little show Dante put on for you before. He just stood there, hands on his hips, gladly watching you dance. “Gotta thank Vergil for being such a great example!”

“Oh, bet he’s gonna love hearing that!” With a laugh, Dante punched an imp who tried to get him by surprise – now flying away to hit another couple of demons who inadvertently tried to follow. “But hey, keep on shakin’ those hips like that, hot stuff, I might have to one up ya.”

You let out a mischievous giggle in response, now feeling even more motivated to let yourself loose on the dance floor. While checking your guns – making sure they were in one piece, all bullets where they should be, no damages – you kept moving to the rhythm, singing the lyrics you knew so well.

Dante crossed his arms, gladly watching the show you were putting on – now casually hooking your guns to your holsters and moving to check on your sword. The imps gathered together, blabbering around like screeching minions, preparing a supposedly devastating attack with all their forces combined to bring both of you down – but Dante couldn’t care less. He had a delighted smile on his lips, arms still crossed and tapping one of his feet on the floor to the beat of the song, barely holding himself still.

He guessed his lifetime of bad luck was to compensate for the one moment in his life where you appeared – out of nowhere, in the middle of a job, covered in demon blood and spite. That was the luckiest Dante had ever been and he could see that happening as all the luck he never really had.

Who could’ve guessed that after all that hell that he called his existence you out of all people would find him – and see him? Someone with a heart of gold, a soul of steel, a spirit like fire and kindness like water; who would challenge him but also complement him in all the perfect ways Dante could have never imagined.

Watching you dancing while strapping your sword on your back like he always did, turning around to wink at him and shake your hips from side to side to the beat of the song, raising your arms above your head and closing your eyes while smiling… You were better than any dream. You were his partner, his sheriff, his lover. He only wished he could’ve had an entire lifetime with you in it.

“Hoo, is it me or it’s gettin’ hotter in here, babe…?” With those words from his lips, you opened your eyes once more, trying to read what he was about to do when Dante took his sword from its holster and left it on a table.

“Dante…!” You immediately widened your eyes as he started stripping off his coat while making the most obnoxious and campy stripping dance you could have ever seen.

“What…?” Of course, being the man he was, Dante feigned innocence. You just pointed back at him – blushing like the first layers of Hell, but with a radiant smile on your lips. Honestly, he lived just to see that sight every time you decided to grace him with it. Dante would never tire to see you smile so genuinely.

“There are hellish imps here, red devil. Have some decorum.” Again. Vergil’s vocabulary had its purpose – and when it came to his twin brother, you had to admit colorful words were the best you could do to try to voice some of your exasperated feelings.

“Oh, you thinkin’ I’m gonna take it all off?” Dante pointed at himself with his free hand, his coat hanging on the other hand. He let out a hearty laugh right after. “Ha! You are gonna have to work for that, sheriff!”

You had to fall into a fit of laughter as Dante started spinning his coat on the air only to throw it away dramatically, going back to his best Saturday Night Fever dance. You didn’t know if you wanted to melt through the floor into oblivion from embarrassment or if you wanted to get into the challenge. Therefore, laughing was the only choice available, really.

You had to note, though, that the embarrassment only came from having an audience – you could still hear the imps arguing and wondered if they would end up killing each other in disagreement – because if you were both alone at the Devil May Cry… Dante would have the dance-off of a lifetime after that taunt.

“Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” You decided, even if feeling a little awkward, to mirror Dante’s dancing – pointing at him while singing, finally strutting towards your red devil.

You had your whole life to kill demons – dancing with your lover, though, was a lot more important in your book.

“Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’, and we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive!” Dante pointed back at you, ready to meet you in the middle. Those lyrics, though, they were quite fitting to both of you – with everything you had to go through on a daily basis, somehow, you always remained alive. Together.

There was some kind of poetry in that. At least in Dante’s point of view.

As the famous riff sang its lyrics, you finally reached each other, starting a perfectly synchronized choreography you both invented during a boring afternoon at the shop – which ended up being not so boring after all. With you dancing while perfectly mirroring him, Dante couldn’t help but have the brightest and most delighted smile on his lips – his face lighting up like the sun, barely noticing he was laughing from enjoying that moment.

The most mirroring he ever got was from a shadow doppelganger at the Temen-ni-gru – and that thing was hell bent on killing him with his own powers and tricks. Now dancing? That was a first. Something he had only seen on movies like Footloose or Grease, something he thought he would only have in the realm of daydreams. Oh, how he loved turning those into reality with you.

“Ready…” Of course, you both were very much aware you weren’t alone - the imps weren't as subtle as they thought they were. Your lives were made mostly of stolen moments like that, but it was something you would never complain about. Better to have those moments than to have nothing at all – and the imps were about to steal it away from you. Looking into those sky-blue eyes, you saw Dante’s typical spark and his smart smile on his lips, winking at you as soon as he understood what your eyes were saying. “NOW! ATTACK!”

“I’m stayin’ alive!” You and Dante sang out loud – if you could call that kind of shouting singing – as you spun on the colorful floor, taking one of your guns from your holsters. You ended up with your backs to each other, your arm by his arm, pointing the guns at the demons at the same time. “Let’s rock!”

The imps expected everything but the rain of bullets. They planned a massive attack, all of them at the same time, and still you and Dante made their forces seem like nothing but a wave of hungry mosquitoes during summer – and that because you were each holding only one of your guns.

They could barely get near you before realizing they wouldn’t be able to make it in one piece. The attack was a failure and the best option they had – for those left alive anyway – was to run. You and Dante kept shooting, hitting bullseye with every quick shot. They first screamed as a battle roar, but now they screeched in terror, fleeing from every broken door and window of the Disco – until there were only you and the red devil left.

“Well, guess we showed ‘em a lesson.” You sighed, relief washing down your spine while you put your gun back into its holster. Dante did the same, but you barely waited for him to look back to you. “Thanks for the rescue, cowboy. It was worthy of Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out For a Hero.”

“Ah, don’t mention it…” But you cut his dismissive words short with a kiss.

It was intended to be a quick kiss – the types of kisses you would always use to shut him up whenever Dante started self-deprecating or playing down how much he was worth – but soon you wanted more. Stepping closer to him, you didn’t let his lips go, resting your hands on his chest while Dante, even if surprised at first, immediately laid his on your hips. The song was still going, and you both still had the fire to keep dancing, but you could take a few moments to enjoy that kiss with more heart than you intended at first.

You had every intention, though, to keep it going for as long as you could – Dante’s lips were too wonderful to be half-appreciated – but as Stayin’ Alive found its last chords, another song seamlessly started to let its golden beats and delightful guitar color the place with new rhythms and notes. Apparently, the DJ imp had figured out how to keep the whole collection of disco songs playing – and you couldn’t complain about that.

“Hey…” You parted the kiss abruptly, mirroring Dante’s smile from also recognizing the song. “It’s our song, cowboy!”

You held Dante’s hand, pulling him even further into the dance floor, while he let his head hang back with a laugh at the words he never thought he would hear in that damned life of his. Stepping closer to you, he spun you around only to catch you in his arms, dancing together the same way you used to dance at the Devil May Cry – you both giggling and singing to each other.

“Do you remember? The 21st night of September?” Oh, yes. September. The song that wrapped you both in golden dreams and shiny days – the song Dante would always run to you to have you in his arms while singing, the one you would always search his hands to hold while dancing. The one Dante never thought he would be able to have with someone else.

Dante couldn’t have another entire lifetime with you, but he could have that one – and even better than that: you could have that song together. Your song.

He could get used to the sound of that alright.

[nerdylizj]

Katara feels safest by the sea. It might be because she’s a waterbender, though she’s not sure that tells the whole story. The truth is, she decides while standing on the deck of a stolen Fire Nation ship under the half moon, quite simple. Katara is safest by the sea because the tide is reliable. The tide doesn’t die. The tide doesn’t leave her behind. The tide, Katara knows, is a work of permanence and impermanence. Marks in the sand are washed away. Seashells are gifted to the shore. Give, take. Push, pull. But never, ever: truth, lie. 

read chapter 9 or start chapter 1

[princeofuchiha]

The pain of having to close out a fic and save it for tomorrow bc your damn ✨️flesh vessel✨️ needs ✨️subsistence✨️ and ✨️energy✨️ like yeah okay whatever universe fuck me then ig

[purplemoonabove]

Beautiful, an Angel Dust x Husker/Husk One-Shot

One chapter only

Wrote it as a writing prompt – “Beautiful”

Inspired by that romantic scene in Fresh Prince. When Philip was describing how beautiful Vivian (the first one) was, the two standing in front of a body mirror. Such a beautiful scene if you haven’t seen it yet!

Light uses of swearing/cursing

Husk’s POV

.

.

.

Beautiful.

It was the first word that popped in his mind.

He would deny it out loud in avoid embarrassment, but in his mind, the truth was loud and clear.

He looked beautiful — He is beautiful.

A part of him then thought of a funny: how a common drug name, used currently for an adult film stage name, can also be how it was done.

Angel.

Dust.

A blessing from an unknown substance that’d be an irritation but actually owned an effect upon physical contact. No allergies, no congestion, no skin damages. He wasn’t sure if the latter would be possible. Decades in the current life and appearance made human skin a shedded layer for a new type to grow and life with. Angel was no different, even with multiple arms and eyes and owning a venom that was rarely exposed through a bite.

It was, as if, an amplification to the actor.

Keeping him as beautiful as he may have been when alive in his new demonic form.

Could he even call him demonic? Is ‘demon’ even a good term to describe? Before it’d be an annoyance – a mask that hid the true spider man’s nature – but now was a new direction: being a proud loser like himself.

Just more beautiful, at that.

“Kitty~”

Even his voice was beautiful, the thought expressed before blinking a return to reality. The spider sat upon his stool by his multi-lit vanity table. His breath-taking, neon-colored heterochromia eyes gazed with curiosity and humor towards him.

He smirked, the golden tooth sticking out.

“Like what you see~?”

Such a skill in teasing and enticing someone to be in his temperate possession was an act Husk would always avoid – in the past. With a soft chuckle, he rose from sitting at the side of the bed to go over.

“Can you blame me?” He returned, not even denying him. Not this time, ever since the new change of relation.

Angel giggled then waved a spared hand. “Nah, I know I’m gorgeous.”

The smirk stayed as he resumed on his powder work at the cheek. Only to waver in further curiosity, his hand slowing to a stop as clawed hands laid and held in a gentle touch on his shoulders.

Golden eyes stared at the pink through the mirror’s reflection, connected as the winged cat lowered his head.

“You’re much more than that,” Husk purred in his ear. Reaction was immediate: the back straightened, his eyes widened, a hint of red came under the furred cheeks, and the powder puff laid correctly in the container without notice.

Fucking cute.

“I see a young man right before my very eyes, who made it impossible to compare. Sweet fluff of fresh snow, with a gazing of melted pink diamonds to form such hearts. Eyes so breathlessly hypnotic through emotions and appearance. Hands to hold more than expected, feeling the love and care in every grasp. And a smile… Oh, that beautiful smile that brings just a little bit of color into this red, dark world.”

“Fuck.”

Angel broke away, turning to hide but Husk can easily see behind the covering hand the growth of said smile and redness that became a line over his nose.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

Angel didn’t turn, wanting to lower his head to hide under the table.

“Husk–”

One hand released the shoulder to grab the closest cheek, carefully turning until the red and bashful spider made contact to his reflection again.

Husk smiled, and whispered his repeat.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

The request was short-lived when Angel’s eyes shut tight.

“Argh!”

It was the only warning before Husk felt slightly winded, then adjusted with a chuckle as the spider pressed his make-up face into his bare, fluffy torso. The four arms wrapped about him as they would when cuddling, only with a grip due to the embarrassment.

“I like grumpy Husk better!” Angel complained into his chest, muffling. “I’m not used to this shit! When did you get all ‘romantified’ or some shit?!”

Husk release a long laugh that vibrated his being. One clawed hand gentle raked through the massive hair, already washed and combed before.

“I think I’ve always had it when alive and all,” he confessed, then shrugged. “Guess there was no reason for me to do it again when dead… until now.”

The arms tightened. Husk smiled.

“Do you want me to stop?” He then asked, the raking at a pause for the answer.

“… No…”

The hand moved towards the chin, lifting Angel’s pouting and red face.

Such a precious gem you are. I’m so lucky.

“So beautiful.”

Angel scrunched up his nose, the red practically burning. “Husky!”

Future complaining was forgotten once Husk sealed their lips for a well-deserved kiss. Relaxation being instant, Angel’s top arms went to wrap around his neck while the bottom two stayed put, but loosened during. With Angel soon getting up, Husk got his own arms to wrap at the small waist, their bodies held close with no desire of letting go.

At a moment of oblivious time, their lips eventually pulled away, but allowed a brushing at contact.

There, Angel whispered with a content smile.

“Thank you, Husk.”

…

I can’t get enough of these two. Weeks of them and I can’t stop! 😍

[thecreatorfromgallifrey]

VERY IMPORTANT NEWS, THREE LITTLE WORDS HAS A FOURTH WORK !!

AND IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

another one!! 🪳

recommend a great AU!

this took me too long to answer excuse mwah <3 sorry i couldnt resist asdhjash such a stupid joke

with you from dusk by katharija. WOH modern au, chronic pain, unspecified chronic illness, angst, trust issues, vulnerability, grief/mourning, sharing a bed, T. i literally just finished rereading it this morning! a brief glance at wenzhou's early days, but set in modern day. im very weak for conversations in the dark, after some guards have been lowered and possibilities to live your life a different way, a better way, seem tangible. there is also a sequel to this!

hunger by lastembers. WOH modern au, chronic pain, unspecified chronic illness, referenced cannibalism, canon-typical violence, domesticiation of a monster, M. also a fic i finished rereading the other day! what if wenzhou were neighbours, but wen kexing eats people? u know that im very into cannibalism as this metaphor for something else and as a stepping stone to experience real emotional intimacy! i also really like it when the very palpable sensation of hunger functions to talk about very related things, very visceral things, that can also be felt in the body.

there is a line here i particularly liked:

"Aren't you hungry?" Zhou Zishu asks. Wen Kexing is watching him like he's the most interesting thing in the world. "No," Wen Kexing says. Zhou Zishu knows its a lie. He thinks maybe Wen Kexing is always hungry.

oh, you're mine to take, i wanna hear the sounds you'll make by anonymous. MDZS modern au, genderbend wangxian, experimenting with gender, E. just quoting that one tumblr post from a while back: "dykes who want get fucked in the ass like gayboys." yep!!!

fish & wild geese by impossibletruths. MDZS modern au, wangxian, little forest AU, hunger as a metaphor for grief, farming as a metaphor for healing, food as a metaphor for love, T. lan wangji moves into his dead mother's house and tries to remember how it is to live. its been a while since i read this but i still remember how the grief felt like a fishbone stuck in my throat.

and you must keep your soul/ like a secret in your throat by athena_crickey. MDZS, The Untamed, modern au, modern cultivation, supernatural elements, vampires, culture clash, case fic, grief/mourning, complicated family dynamics, the weariness of being old and immortal, what it means to be alive, E. wei wuxian is an ancient vampire and lan wangji is a young (youngish) cultivator who seeks him out for a case. i particularly liked seeing glimpses of wei wuxian's earlier lives through fictional academical articles and reports at the end of each (i think it is each?) chapter, and sometimes through their conversations. i like it when there is a really old (really, really old) being there and through them, you are challenged to confront what being alive for such a long time does to a person, in what ways it reshapes them.

in the water grass, in the green by nerdzeword, twigofwillow. The Untamed, modern with magic, wangxian, angst, illness, curses, witches, river spirits, family, gardening, G. lan wangji's mother falls ill. he asks the wen witches across the street for help. this fic, too, has the theme of finding solace and comfort in cooking, food, and nature! i love lan wangji being this transcended being between a person and a river! there is also some anticipatory grief here and complex family dynamics; even though madam lan isnt dead, it is hard for lan wangji to reach her because she is not accepted by his family. he has feelings about that.

bug me bug me for fic recs!!!!

[lunarriviera]

fourth autumn [wenzhou, 15k, E]

fourth autumn (15185 words) by lunarriviera fandom: 山河令 | Word of Honor (TV 2021), 天涯客 | Faraway Wanderers - priest rating: E warnings: graphic depictions of violence relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu characters: Zhang Chengling, Wu Xi tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Tian Chuang (Faraway Wanderers), Siji Manor, Ghost Valley (Faraway Wanderers), Wuxia, Blood and Violence, Former Assassin Zhou Zishu, With A Twist, Post-Canon, Not Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending

It is a trap, and Zhou Zishu knows it; it's the precise kind he had set himself, before, when Tian Chuang wanted to threaten someone discreetly, with a minimum of attention. They want Wen Kexing alive because they know Zhou Zishu will give chase. They want Zhou Zishu alive because they want him back. And he does not intend to give them the pleasure of his company a third time.

Zhou Zishu has become an arrow, single-pointed. It's a place inside himself he has never wanted to venture into, again, but for one person, and one person only, he will do it.

“I’m looking for Wen Kexing.”

[tiredassmage]

16 and/or 19 from the kiss prompts for whichever character inspires you when you get around to it :D

I very, very badly needed to write a little something and I have had the idea for this one for ages, but now!!! It's finally here!!!!! I thought this one would be really, really cute to do something a lil more established-like for @captainderyn's Mor and our silly lil agent, Squishy! I need to do so much more with them!!! So, here's a lil start on doing just that, hopefully <3

[From Fictional Kiss Prompts] //

Ahdrasteia’s brow furrowed as her teeth worried against her bottom lip. She’d been nearly tomb statue stiff for approximately three minutes and counting, and that frown on her thinned lips (for once clear of the smoky black polish that usually coated them) was only sinking deeper.

And Mor was struggling valiantly against the urge to stick a hand out and… do something about it. Knock a few of those errant puzzle pieces on the floor, make shadow skar’klas on the walls - anything to break that laser-focused edge hardwired into the operative sat across from her. The first, however, was likely to draw her ire, which was unintended, and the second was… Well, likely to go unnoticed, at this point. Though… it’d be fun.

Ahdrasteia exhaled sharply through her nose as she cautiously prodded yet another mismatched piece. “Mor-”

Ridiculous how hearing just that little syllable made her heart nearly leap out of her chest and across the table right then and there. Mor cocked her head - grateful the dimmed red glow of her agent’s cybernetics was still focused distinctly downward at the table. It saved her from trying to fight the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks even still.

“I think we’re missing a few pieces.” Ahdrasteia frowned as she leaned back on legs she’d tucked up underneath her in her seat. Her red glow briefly intensified another moment as she scanned the tabletop. The lighting on Mor's ship wasn't always so great for locating escaping little puzzle pieces, but it was far kinder on cybernetics and headaches than the blue-toned glow on Intelligence vessels.

An amused grin sprawled across Mor’s lips, though she threw a glance at the chrono on the nightstand. “I think they’ll turn up, Squishy.”

A tiny little snort issued from the agent. “I don’t suppose you lost any of them.”

Before Mor could even pretend to narrow her eyes in mock offense, a smile was creeping at the edges of Ahdrasteia’s lips as she straightened her back. Mor’s eyes narrowed even as a laugh tumbled out of her. It was like her little agent was proud of herself - and wringing the jest out of her usually tight jaw might just have been worth it.

Might’ve even beat winning the Great Hunt. “My job’s finding, if you’ve forgotten.”

Ahdrasteia giggled, though a hand still came up to try to cover her lips now. “Are you supposed to be my hero then? If you can find those little pieces-”

Mor pushed herself out of her seat and leaned down to press a kiss right between those sharp brows. True to form, a squeak of surprise still slipped out of Ahdrasteia, and even in the dim ship light, Mor could still tell her cheeks flushed as pink as the blush she wore.

And that little furrow was back in her brow as she turned an indignant pout upon the hunter over her. “You did that on purpose-!”

“Make it up to you with shadow skar’klas?” Mor opened her arms and waggled her fingers promisingly. Ahdrasteia frowned at her a moment longer. “I don’t think any of the puzzle pieces are gonna grow legs overnight.”

Squishy’s nose wrinkled just a touch more. “They might if you give them any,” she mumbled before she finally scooted in her seat and reached up to wrap her arms around Mor’s neck, letting the hunter scoop her up and toe her seat back in out of the way behind them.

“I’ll find them before we dock again,” Mor assured.

“Promise?”

Maybe. Hopefully. Perhaps if she was quiet enough, she could scour the lower deck before she woke up… Her agent was still such a light sleeper.

“Promise.”

[minweber]

Belisarius Cawl, hiding for his life, his ass kicked, ship crashing, friends in mortal peril: I am such a smart boy, he-he-he =)

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

All the King's Horses and all the King's Men (aka The Xie'er Deserves the World Fic)

Chapter 5: Frosty Peace

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Xie Wang & Jing Beiyuan, Xie Wang & Zhang Chengling, Xie Wang & Wu Xi, Xie Wang & Ye Baiyi, Minor Jing Beiyuan/Wu Xi - Relationship Characters: Xie Wang, Jing Beiyuan, Zhang Chengling, Wu Xi, Ye Baiyi Additional Tags: Post Drama Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Mentions of past rape and dubious consent, mentions of child grooming, Suicidal Thoughts, Verbal Abuse, Panic Attacks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Contains some elements from the Qi Ye/Lord Seventh novel

Chapter summary: Xie Wang and Zhang Chengling clash.

Hi everyone! ♥

As promised in my recent general fic status post, here is chapter 5 which I was originally going to keep as a buffer, but decided to post now. 🙈

As always, many thanks to my wonderful betas @byallaccountsitdoesntmakesense and @animanganerd for their support on this fic. ♥

Hope you enjoy! ♥

PS: Reminder that this fic has a Spotify playlist! ♥

[monsamborabutterfly]

I'm in such a reading slump and I hate it🥲 I love fanfics but I'm not necessarily sure what I'm looking for.

I NEED some recs 🙏

I'm not sure this will work cause I usually kinda scream into the void on here but fellow fanfic lovers: what's your fave fanfic?? What's the one fic you'd recommend? The one that's so good you wished everyone would read it?

I'm curious!!

[frankencanon]

special shoutout to the fan creators who make fanfic, fanart, and other works for unpopular characters, pairings, & fandoms!!

yall're our heroes... 🥹

[cosmic-starfall]

Rating: Explixit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Categories: F/M, M/M

Relationships: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu, Cao Weining/Gu Xiang, Wen Kexing & Zhang Chengling & Zhou Zishu, Gu Xiang & Wen Kexing, Gu Xiang & Wen Kexing & Zhang Chengling & Zhou Zishu, Gao Xiaolian & Gu Xiang

Characters: Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Gu Xiang, Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, Gao Xiaolian

Summary:

Zhou Zishu already had a doomsday bunker when the zombie virus hit. But after living in isolation for months, he makes the ill-advised decision to let a strange man who stalked him home live with him.

Or

WenZhou and their pack of adopted kids live in a bunker together during a zombie apocalypse.

I'm tagging everyone who hyped up the original au post with tags about how they wanted to see it, hope y'all don't mind:

@sirenofthegreenbanks @cryptidafter @calamity-talvi

[goddessofromance-asmara]

Third chapter of my fic is out! This time with 3k words ♡

[dangraccoon]

A Good Run

Day 17 ~ nowhere else to go ~ "we had a good run" ~

Rex & Echo

Word Count: 1192 Content: canon-typical violence, blaster fighting, clone troopers as siblings, pinned down, last stand (acceptance of death), Cody Ex Machina, Star Wars™-Flavored Curse Words

“Kriff.”

Rex heard Echo’s whispered curse over their comms.

“Rex, we’ve got more incoming,” he called, and Rex could just barely hear the sound of his scomp whirring. “I can try to reroute them.”

“Do it and meet me at rendezvous one,” Rex confirmed as he started running. He couldn’t lie–this mission was not going well. He darted around a corner, only to be met with a patrol of stormtroopers at the far end of the hallway.

“You! Stand down!” one shouted as they began to fire on him.

He ducked behind a stack of crates. 

“Echo, I don’t think that reroute is gonna work,” he commed. 

He could hear blaster fire over the comm as Echo answered. 

“No kidding! Meet at two?”

Rex thought for a split second. It was closer, but he’d have to get through these stormtroopers. 

“Deal!”

He popped in and out of cover, picking the troopers off one by one. 

“Gregor!” he called into the comm. “We’re gonna need a pickup at two!”

“I’ll do my best!” Gregor shouted back. “Bit busy; might be late!”

Once he’d finally cleared the hall, he ran, jumping over the fallen replacements. 

His head was on a swivel as he came to the meeting point. As he breathed for a moment, he could hear blaster fire and the pounding of metal legs hitting the ground. 

“Rex!” Echo called, and for a second Rex wasn’t sure if he was hearing Echo through his comm set or just down the hall. Either way, he knew that tone.

He watched the corner he knew his brother would be coming around, pistols raised. As predicted there was Echo, firing shots off behind him as he ran.

“Whatcha got?” Rex asked.

“Twenty B1s, two squads of troopers,” Echo listed, his blaster never seeming to take a break.

Together they fired, using the space they’d set as an alternative meeting point as a makeshift barricade. Despite the droids and men that fell under fire from their blasters, they seemed to just keep coming. But one sound in particular caught Rex’s ear.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

Before Echo could answer, reinforcements arrived.

“Karking sithhells,” Echo groaned. “We do not need rollies right now.”

They kept firing, chillingly aware of the numbers facing them.

Echo dropped down behind cover.

“Are you hit?” Rex called, his voice urgent. He couldn’t lose Echo again. Not like this.

“No,” Echo growled. “Kriffing blaster’s jammed.”

Rex tossed one of his to him and Echo caught it with practiced ease.

The longer this dragged on, the bleaker their chances got.

“You got anything else?” Echo asked, throwing his last droidpopper.

“Used it all,” Rex frowned. “Echo–”

“Don’t say it, Rex,” Echo grunted. “We can fall back; there’s a panel in the back of the room behind us if we open it–”

“Echo–”

“–it’ll route us back around–”

“Echo.”

Echo’s mouth finally fell silent as Rex’s blaster fell silent.

“Rex?”

Rex looked up at him, emotionless bucket to emotionless bucket. “Out of power.”

The old droids were closing in, and Rex could hear troopers on their way as well. 

Echo shook his head. “No. No, go get that panel open, I’ll hold them off and by then Gregor will–”

“Gregor’s pinned down like we are,” Rex said, his voice dangerously calm. “No reinforcements are coming, Echo.”

Terror spread over Rex, threatening to drag him down and swallow him whole as he watched his brother–one he’d claimed as his ad’ika–run the numbers in his head. 

Echo tried to shake the weight of Rex’s gaze off again, popping up to fire at the oncoming enemies, but one of the troopers got lucky; the blaster flew out of his hands, the metal burning and steaming as it hit the ground behind them.

They looked at one another, exchanging a single solemn nod.

They made a run for it; Echo slammed his scomp in the port, opening the door, while Rex ran in, Echo just on his heels to lock the door behind them, the blaster bolts narrowly missing them.

“Where’s the panel?” Rex asked, grunting under the strain of shoving a large data chip cabinet in front of the door.

“It should be…”

Echo froze.

“Echo?” Rex turned to see his brother, stopped in place like someone pressed “pause” on a holovid.

He followed his gaze.

The wall was solid. There was no panel. No exit. Nowhere else to go.

Echo turned towards his old captain, pulling his helmet off of his head. 

Rex admired his brother for what was probably–if the noise on the other side of the door was any indication–the last time, but it wasn’t the first. 

Echo had come so far since Rex had met him. Long gone was that rigid, regulation shiny. In his place was a brilliant, fierce, tactically genius ARC who’d been to hell and back and could still put a smile on your face. He was snarky, and some of the language that fell out of his mouth could make a Hutt blush, but he was so strong. That lean, toned muscle had filled in along with his color, his thick, dark curls starting to grow back in around the scars and nodes.

Ever since he found him again, Rex swore that he’d push himself to be more like Echo. Stronger, faster, braver.

He took his helmet off, and automatically, their left arms met and clasped together like they had so many times before.

“Captain,” Echo smiled sadly.

“We had a good run, Echo.”

Suddenly the building shook so violently it nearly knocked them off balance. The sound on the other side of the door paused.

Rex stared at the door. “That was right here.”

“The varp was that?” Echo hummed. He ran to the console by the door, searching for any indication.

Rex watched and listened.

“Wayii,” Echo whispered. “I don’t believe it.”

“What is it?”

Echo opened the door, shoving the cabinet away.

Standing amid broken droids and fallen stormtroopers, stood a single figure; another trooper–wait, was that clone armor?

“Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kym’amur, vode,” Cody smirked, pulling his helmet from his head. [Today is a good day for someone else to die, brothers.] 

“Cody?” Rex hissed, feet already moving to his ori’vod. They met in a tight embrace.

“Of all the Imperial Outposts in the Galaxy, you storm mine?” Cody laughed. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be dead?” He glanced at Echo. “You too?”

“Would’ve been if you hadn’t shown up,” Echo smirked. 

Cody looked between them. “Don’t tell me you stormed this compound with just the two of you.”

Rex chuckled. “Course not, Codes. Gregor’s just in a dogfight at the moment.”

“Ah, yes,” the commander rolled his eyes. “Three is much better. Maker, Rex–”

“We got what we came for!”

“Lots of good it’ll do when you’re dead!”

Echo watched as they bickered. “Ori’vode!” Both of their attentions snapped to him. “Let’s get out of here, maybe? Leave now, do brotherly bonding later?”

Cody snorted and Rex reached out to ruffle that short patch of curls atop his head before they turned and ran from the room together, Echo just behind them.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @Padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[animanganerd]

Everything Annoys Me And I’m (Too) Hot - Chapter 39

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi Fanfic

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47881336/chapters/139746448

All chapters: here x

Chapter 39 ❖ Promises

As soon as Lan Wangji and Zhou Zishu were gone, Lan Xiaoli breathed a small sigh of relief.

At the same time, he was incredibly conflicted. His eyes wandered back to Mu Chun, who quickly repeated, “You know I had to do it. They would’ve killed me.” His voice was as pleading as the expression on his face.

Lan Xiaoli crossed his arms and wordlessly shook his head. “How long have you been with us? Do you really believe they would have killed you just like that?”

“Since they know what I’ve done, yes. I do believe they would.”

“They do not know.”

Mu Chun frowned at Lan Xiaoli with a questioning expression.

“They do not know about Lu Yunli.”

“You didn’t tell them?”

Lan Xiaoli lowered his gaze and shook his head once more. “I did not.”

Mu Chun remained quiet. Lan Xiaoli couldn’t bear to look up, lightly scraping the ground with his boot. “Will they be fine?”

“I wouldn’t have done it if it was dangerous.”

Lan Xiaoli nodded. His arms were still crossed and he slightly turned his head sideways. He gnawed on his lip as he tried to sort out his once again jumbled feelings. Mu Chun waited patiently for him to speak.

The silence stretched on for a moment, until Lan Xiaoli finally decided to listen to his heart and just be honest.

“You know… on our way to Linguang I reflected a little more on this–,” he closed his eyes and briefly shook his head before correcting himself, “On us. All of it. To be honest, I do not even know where to begin.”

A bitter laugh erupted from his throat. “First of all, I am incredibly hurt by the lack of faith in me. If your past actions are in any way justifiable, you should have come forward in the first place to prevent the horrid surprise I was in for.”

“I–”

“I must confess my reaction may have been a little harsh, but now that you got my dads involved, you know I cannot possibly condone your actions.”

“A-Li–”

“The problem, however, is, that I am already way too deeply involved and simply cannot stop caring about you, even if I wanted to.” He finally met Mu Chun’s gaze again. “I want to be with you. I cannot imagine living without you. So I made up my mind. I am willing to trust you, but whatever this is,” he gestured at the room, “it has to stop. The choice is yours. You can continue to do your thing or you can be with me. But you cannot have both.”

After he’d said his piece, Lan Xiaoli turned on his heel and walked away. He did his best to appear calm and collected, but his heart was racing and his knees were shaking. It felt like he was running away from Mu Chun, and in a way, he was. Deep down, he was incredibly scared of Mu Chun’s answer. Scared it wouldn’t be what he hoped it to be.

Lan Xiaoli had barely reached the top of the stairs, when he was suddenly yanked around.

Mu Chun had rushed out and grabbed him by the wrist to pull him to a stop. Panting, he declared, “It’s you! It’ll always be you!”

Lan Xiaoli’s eyes widened, too stunned to speak.

Once Mu Chun’s breathing had evened out, he repeated. “Whether or not you’ll still have me, my answer is you. I choose you. I swear, I’ll burn this place down.”

Lan Xiaoli couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Again?”

“Huh?”

“We’re literally standing on the ashes of my family.”

Only then did Mu Chun realise how inappropriate his declaration had been. “Oh, haha… sorry.”

Lan Xiaoli chuckled softly. “It is fine. There is no need for such drastic measures.” He paused. “But your response was rather impulsive, maybe you should give it more thought.”

“I don’t have to. I promise I’ll stop,” Mu Chun insisted.

Lan Xiaoli only mustered a wistful smile. “You have broken your promise before. How can I be sure you will keep it this time?”

Mu Chun furrowed his brow. He seemed heartbroken, almost desperate, but refused to release his grip on Lan Xiaoli.

Then, he suddenly raised two fingers and drew a talisman in the air. Closing his eyes, he pointed the same two fingers against his own chest, followed by a brief flash of light, which forced Lan Xiaoli to shield his own eyes.

Once the light had faded, Mu Chun opened his eyes again and looked straight into Lan Xiaoli’s as he undid his own robes.

“W… What…?”

But Mu Chun did not reply. Instead, he ripped open his lapels to reveal his bare chest. Lan Xiaoli’s eyes widened.

On the spot right above Mu Chun’s heart was a mark.

Intrigued, Lan Xiaoli stepped closer and gently ran his fingers over the mark. “What is this?”

“A symbol of pledge.”

Lan Xiaoli’s eyes widened. “...Pledge to what?”

“No more killing.”

“What happens if you break your vow?” Lan Xiaoli asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“I die,” Mu Chun replied flatly.

Lan Xiaoli slapped Mu Chun’s chest. “What did you do that for?!”

“To make you believe me.”

The mark slowly started to fade. A symbol of pledge… 

A symbol of pledge was a big deal. It was a promise-binding spell, which tied your promise straight to your heart. The mark would only become visible if you were about to break your vow, glowing as a warning.

Lan Xiaoli was utterly flabbergasted. He’d just said there was no need for drastic measures!

Desperate, he dug his finger into Mu Chun’s chest to cling to the fading mark. He held onto the naive hope that it could be reversed while it was still fresh.

“Undo it!!”

Mu Chun placed his hand over Lan Xiaoli’s. “I can’t,” he whispered with a gentle smile.

A wave of panic washed over Lan Xiaoli. “What if you kill someone unintentionally??”

Mu Chun raised an eyebrow. “...How would that happen?”

“I don’t know! Self-defence or accident?”

Lan Xiaoli thought back to the time Mu Chun had thrown a man to the ground so hard that his skull had cracked. That surely hadn’t been on purpose!

Mu Chun pondered about it for a moment.

“Ah, let me check the rule book real quick,” he said as he pretended to pick up an invisible book. Then he showed his empty hands. “Oh, it doesn’t exist! I don’t know, okay? Guess we’ll find out.” 

Seeing Lan Xiaoli lose his composure showed Mu Chun that all hope wasn’t lost. This had been the right decision. He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry, it’s living humans only. It won’t affect me if I step on a bug.”

Lan Xiaoli groaned. “That is not what I mean…”

Mu Chun’s tender smile was short-lived. His expression turned earnest again in a heartbeat.

Lan Xiaoli’s eyes were fixed on the mark on his chest which had now completely disappeared. To get his attention, Mu Chun put his free hand under Lan Xiaoli’s chin to lift his head.

“A-Li, my promise to you means more to me than my life.”

Lan Xiaoli met Mu Chun’s gaze with glazed eyes. He opened his mouth, yet all the admonishing, nagging and reproaching words – everything he wanted to say – were stuck in his throat.

He chewed on his bottom lip until he was able to ask the most important question. “No more killing?”

Mu Chun nodded. “No more killing.”

At this reassurance, it felt like a knot in Lan Xiaoli’s stomach had been untied, and a sense of relief spread through his entire body. A familiar warmth filled his heart and a smile bloomed on his face.

Not knowing what to say, his body reacted instead. Whether it was impulse or urge – Lan Xiaoli wasn’t sure himself – he grabbed Mu Chun by the lapels and pulled him into a kiss.

Mu Chun’s eyes widened, but he did not object. Afraid Lan Xiaoli might break away any second, he cupped Lan Xiaoli’s cheek with one hand, and placed his other hand on Lan Xiaoli’s lower back to press their bodies closer together.

⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩

The sky had already darkened by the time the pair walked away from Mu Chun’s secret den.

When they finally parted lips after a long, long time, they’d come to the consensus that being near a room full of corpses wasn’t exactly the most romantic atmosphere.

The further they moved away from the memorial, the greener the area became. And the further away from that horrid statue, the better, Lan Xiaoli thought.

They found a nice green spot, far away from the memorial, but not too close to the town, so the two of them could still enjoy some privacy.

Side by side, Lan Xiaoli and Mu Chun lay on the grass, gazing up at the night sky. The stars twinkled above, seeming to dance in celebration of their reconciliation.

Lan Xiaoli used Mu Chun’s chest as a pillow, while Mu Chun gently traced his fingers along Lan Xiaoli’s arm.

“Have you thought any further about your revenge?” Mu Chun asked.

Lan Xiaoli was surprised by this sudden question. Of course he had thought about it. He had thought about it so many times that his thirst for revenge had already permeated into his dreams.

All his ‘ideas’ involved a great deal of violence and were incredibly gory, so there was no use to mention them.

“Always. Why? Is this about your mysterious plan again?”

Mu Chun chuckled. “It is.”

Lan Xiaoli rolled onto his stomach to face Mu Chun, all ears.

“First, you must promise not to try to kill him,” Mu Chun said.

Lan Xiaoli narrowed his eyes.

“Trust me,” Mu Chun continued, “You won’t feel relieved or satisfied in any way. He’ll just be… gone.”

That again…

Lan Xiaoli was about to roll his eyes at Mu Chun’s weak attempt at persuasion, but then the words no more killing reverberated in his head.

Rules were rules; that applied to him as well. He sighed, ready to give it a chance. “Fine, I will try. What is your plan?”

“Promise me.”

Lan Xiaoli snorted. “You are one to talk.”

“Promise,” Mu Chun demanded firmly.

Lan Xiaoli pressed his lips together. Albeit grudgingly, he complied with another exhaustive sigh. “...Okay. I promise.” 

“Perfect,” Mu Chun said with a satisfied smirk. “Now you can’t break it.”

Lan Xiaoli quirked his brows, sincerely confused. He wasn’t the one that had taken a pledge. “What happens if I do?”

“Nothing. It just makes you a bad person.”

Lan Xiaoli frowned. “So you admit you are a bad person?”

“I never said I was good,” Mu Chun retorted with a grin, “Just that I like to help people.”

Lan Xiaoli no longer resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Tell me about your plan.”

“Remember what happened to Jian Mingzhi? It will be similar: Public humiliation instead of death. I just need to work out the final details before I can discuss it with you. But I can tell you this much: I got something on him that’ll make him forever live in shame.”

Then, his grin disappeared. “If you want to be of any help, the best thing you can do right now is to be absolutely patient, even when he returns. It’s crucial that you don’t act rash or on impulse. Can you do this for me?”

Lan Xiaoli eyed him suspiciously. “How long do I have to wait?”

“I can’t say for certain. You have to trust me with this one.”

Lan Xiaoli sighed in resignation. As he lowered his eyes, they fixed on Mu Chun’s lips. When had his smug face become so handsome? So attractive?

As if in a daze, Lan Xiaoli leaned down and kissed those alluring lips. When his kiss was returned, his hand slowly wandered down from Mu Chun’s chest to his waist. He hooked one of his fingers into Mu Chun’s sash and gently tugged at it.

Mu Chun laughed against Lan Xiaoli’s mouth. “What is it?”

Lan Xiaoli drew back a bit and raised his eyebrows, giving Mu Chun a meaningful look. The implication was all too clear.

Mu Chun was rather surprised. “Are you sure?”

Lan Xiaoli nodded.

Mu Chun brushed his fingers over Lan Xiaoli’s cheek. “You don’t have to push yourself.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Lan Xiaoli took Mu Chun’s hand and brought it to a certain member of his own body. “I am not pushing myself.”

Before he knew it, Lan Xiaoli was on his back with Mu Chun on top of him, both locked in a passionate kiss. Mu Chun’s hands wandered all over Lan Xiaoli’s body, nimbly untying his sash and pulling down his pants. He then opened Lan Xiaoli’s robes and sat back on his knees to regard Lan Xiaoli in all his glory.

Lan Xiaoli averted his gaze and covered half of his face with one hand to hide his embarrassment.

After staring for a good moment, Mu Chun said, “You’re beautiful.”

…As if Lan Xiaoli didn’t already feel awkward enough. “Shut up before I change my mind.”

Mu Chun chuckled. “You really want to go all the way?”

“Is that not the point?”

“Well I… nevermind.”

Mu Chun climbed on top of Lan Xiaoli again, capturing his lips in another kiss. 

After carefully stretching Lan Xiaoli first with one, then two, then three fingers, Mu Chun slowly eased himself into Lan Xiaoli. The stretching certainly took some getting used to, but it had been neither uncomfortable nor painful.

The real deal, however, was a different story; Lan Xiaoli couldn’t help but tense up a little.

As Mu Chun gradually inched forward, he kept whispering the same word over and over into Lan Xiaoli’s ear: “Relax.”

Lan Xiaoli tried, but it wasn’t that simple, and someone just telling him to do so didn’t make it any easier. He side-eyed Mu Chun with a sceptical look. “Are you really bad at this?”

Mu Chun froze. He turned his head to face Lan Xiaoli. “I’m… trying not to hurt you.”

“You keep telling me to relax, yet you don’t kiss me or touch me. How am I supposed to relax?”

Somewhat caught off guard by that accusation, Mu Chun burst out laughing. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he kissed Lan Xiaoli’s cheek, “You want to be touched? Like this?”

He put a firm grip around Lan Xiaoli’s member and began to stroke it. This indeed felt better.

Lan Xiaoli nodded in response as a wave of pleasure washed over him, eliciting a surprised gasp. It helped him relax, and Mu Chun pushed all the way in.

However, their moment of passion was short-lived. Thanks to Mu Chun, it was over in a jiffy. He stayed on top of Lan Xiaoli, his face buried in Lan Xiaoli’s shoulder.

“...Sorry.”

Lan Xiaoli looked at him in confusion. “For what?”

“I couldn’t last longer.”

Lan Xiaoli had once again no point of reference, so he had no idea how long this act was supposed to last. And who knew how much of the ruckus his dads made was part of the actual act? But that Mu Chun considered himself too quick was rather surprising. “Are you not experienced?”

“...I’m flattered, but what makes you think so?”

“Well, you are a few years older than me, surely you had some practice?”

Mu Chun snorted a laugh. “I didn’t really have time for ‘practice.’ Being busy with my job, y’know…”

“...Oh.”

“Are you disappointed?”

Lan Xiaoli shook his head. “No, quite the opposite actually. I feel rather relieved.”

Mu Chun smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.” He gave Lan Xiaoli a peck on the cheek. “We can practise together anytime you want.”

Embarrassed, Lan Xiaoli pushed off a laughing Mu Chun and fumbled for his pants.

As soon as they were dressed, they stood facing each other. For some reason, Lan Xiaoli felt a bit awkward again. He vaguely pointed in the town’s direction. “I should head back. Will you come with me?”

Mu Chun grimaced lightly. “I don’t think I’d be very welcome.”

“You can apologise and explain. I am sure they will understand.”

“Nah. I have to finish the plan, else my Young Lord will get mad.”

Lan Xiaoli scoffed. “What kind of servant are you? Who are you trying to fool wearing these robes? You even put your rings back on.”

Mu Chun laughed softly. “Do you prefer me without them?”

Smiling, Lan Xiaoli shook his head. “No. They are a part of you. And I will accept every part of you.”

After pause he added, “...including your secrets. However, my endless patience gives me the right to strangle you if any more grave secrets are revealed.”

“Didn’t we say no more killing?”

“Strangling doesn’t necessarily mean killing…”

Mu Chun laughed out loud. “I know I seem like the adventurous type but… I’m not into that kind of stuff,” he said with an apologetic face that wasn’t apologetic at all.

“...”

The moment Lan Xiaoli understood the innuendo, he really wanted to strangle him right then and there.

⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩

When Lan Xiaoli returned to the inn, Wen Kexing and Wei Wuxian still hadn’t recovered.

Lan Wangji, Zhou Zishu and Zhang Chengling sat at a table in the dining area. They had been engaged in a serious conversation, but stopped talking once they caught sight of Lan Xiaoli.

The atmosphere around them was gloomy, as if dark clouds were hanging over them.

Instead of a warm greeting or words of concern, Lan Wangji’s first question cut straight to the chase.

“Since when have you known?”

Lan Xiaoli barely had a chance to take a seat before that question was hurled at him. His high spirits adapted to the grave mood of the others. He couldn’t help but feel that the question had an accusatory undertone.

“Only since today,” he replied in a defensive manner.

Zhang Chengling suddenly chimed in from the side. “I… I have known since Tianxuan,” he confessed in a small voice, his head hanging low. It wouldn’t be fair for Lan Xiaoli to shoulder all the blame, so Zhang Chengling hoped to share the burden by being honest.

Zhou Zishu looked at him in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“He didn’t mean any harm…”

Furious, Zhou Zishu pointed to the upper floor. “Tell that to your shishu!”

He made to slap Zhang Chengling, but then just clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment.

Zhang Chengling winced and replied in an even smaller voice, “Sorry…”

“Chengling-xiong is right,” Lan Xiaoli interjected. “He would never hurt us. He has a reason to be cautious.”

“What reason?” Lan Wangji asked.

Lan Xiaoli opened his mouth, but then remembered Mu Chun hadn’t told him yet either. 

“I do not know yet, but I will find out,” he said, his eyes and tone determined.

Lan Wangji shook his head. “No more meeting him.”

“What?!”

Lan Wangji stood up, grabbed Lan Xiaoli by the arm and pulled him upstairs until they reached his and Wei Wuxian’s room. “You will sleep here tonight.”

Lan Xiaoli’s face dropped. He hadn’t shared a room with them in ages!

⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩

“So you knew he killed someone, kept us in the dark, and are convinced he means no harm? Even though he used us as guinea pigs for his weird experiments that you didn’t know anything about?” Wei Wuxian recapped after he’d heard a brief account from the others.

Despite having fallen victim to Mu Chun’s mysterious spell, Wei Wuxian and Wen Kexing were fortunately as good as new after a good night’s rest.

“You ambushed him, I didn’t even have a chance to warn you. How did you find us anyway?”

“I overheard your conversation in front of Murong Zheng’s mansion,” Zhou Zishu said, “and decided to follow you.”

“Why?”

“Ever since we met him, I felt like this boy was hiding something from us,” Zhou Zishu explained. “Then we received news of the deaths of Sun Zongxi, Ling Baoxi and Lu Yunli during our journey. At first I thought Sun’s death was a coincidence, and only started to become suspicious after Ling Baoxi had died as well. Sect Leader Lu’s death was the final proof. Hanguang-jun agreed, but we had no evidence. He didn’t seem to harm you, so there was no need for us to raise any concerns.”

“Zhou Zishu alarmed us after he saw you walking into Mu Chun’s hideout,” Wei Wuxian continued. “I still can’t believe you went inside without a second thought!”

“I did not–”

“You know very well that I actually liked that boy. He lured you out of your comfort zone which was rather refreshing to see,” Wei Wuxian said. “But there is a reason we didn’t want you to be alone with him!”

“What reason?”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “There’s this rumour about a guy who appears to abduct people of all ages and classes to conduct cruel experiments on them. We heard about this tale in Linguang on the same day you ‘hired’ Mu Chun as our guide. Your father has been suspicious of him from the very beginning, but what are the chances of us running right into that feared guy? Aside from that, you know how I feel about hearsay. But when Zhou Zishu told us you’d walked straight into a dodgy hideout, my warning bells went off! And well… what we found only confirmed our suspicion.”

After hearing that story, Lan Xiaoli was at a loss for words. Yet he still felt the urge to defend Mu Chun. “Why did you not confront him more… humanely?”

“And give him the chance to come up with an excuse?” Wei Wuxian scoffed.

Lan Xiaoli clenched his hands in his lap. “He is not evil! I am sure there is more to it than the rumour lets on. He will tell me everything when we meet again. In fact, he would have told me everything if you had not intervened.”

“No more meeting him!” Lan Wangji repeated.

Lan Xiaoli’s eyes darted to him. “I am sorry, but I refuse. I am old enough to make my own decisions. You cannot stop me!”

“Isn’t your on-off thing exhausting?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“...Terribly. We have to work on our foundation,” Lan Xiaoli admitted grudgingly.

“He is dangerous,” Lan Wangji persisted.

Lan Xiaoli puffed a derisive laugh. “Quite the double standard you have there, considering that the presumably most dangerous person is part of our family.”

Both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji frowned in bafflement. They were clearly stunned, not sure what or how to ask the question that was so obviously in their mind: what are you talking about?

Lan Xiaoli sighed. “The Yiling Laozu?”

Wei Wuxian swallowed. “How did you…”

“Chun-ge thought I already knew,” Lan Xiaoli answered offhandedly. He’d learned so many disturbing things recently that nothing could truly shock him anymore. “Bit hypocritical of you to teach me to reject dark arts and wicked tricks, is it not?”

“Don’t shoot at your father,” Wei Wuxian chided. “He never approved of my ways and tried to stop me all his life. He only wants what’s best for you.”

Lan Xiaoli only leaned back with folded arms and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have turned to demonic cultivation if you knew I’d done it.”

Lan Xiaoli’s spiteful attitude deflated. He had no counter-argument; in fact, he’d actually proven Wei Wuxian’s point in the past. “… Maybe four years ago, but not anymore. Anyways, the point I am trying to make is that we can trust him. I obviously do not approve of his ways either, and he promised he will stop with his… experiments.”

Now it was Wei Wuxian’s turn to cross his arms. “So if I promised you the moon would be blue tomorrow, would you believe me?”

“No, but…”

“Exactly. Don’t let love blind you.”

Lan Xiaoli’s face flushed red. “Who said–?!” He then closed his eyes to calm down and huffed a sigh. “I am not that stupid. Ever heard of a promise-binding spell?”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian replied. “It’s a rather strong spell. Why?”

“Because Mu Chun performed it on himself…” Zhou Zishu answered, his expression pensive.

At first Lan Xiaoli was grateful for Zhou Zishu’s backup. But once he realised that this meant Zhou Zishu had stayed behind and watched them outside of Mu Chun’s den, all other voices and noises were pushed into the background by a high-pitched tone in his ears.

Didn’t that mean he also saw them… doing that?

He clutched Zhou Zishu’s wrist and with an intense, unblinking stare asked, “When did you leave?”

Startled, Zhou Zishu’s head jerked in Lan Xiaoli’s direction. “Hm?”

“Did you leave at the same time as me?”

“No.”

“How much did you see?”

“Not much. I just happened to overhear you.”

“Then what did you hear?”

Zhou Zishu covered Lan Xiaoli’s hand, trying to loosen the grip without using force. It would be easy for him to just snap the boy’s wrist, but he didn’t want to hurt him. “…What’s wrong?”

Lan Xiaoli only glared at him with bloodshot eyes, arduously pushing the words through gritted teeth, “Tell me.”

“We’re just trying to protect you,” Zhou Zishu tried to placate him.

But Lan Xiaoli’s grip tightened, his knuckles turning white and his hand trembling. “Zhou Zishu!” he hissed.

Zhou Zishu was slightly taken aback. “I left right after the spell had been activated.”

Relief immediately spread across Lan Xiaoli’s tense features. He let go of Zhou Zishu. “Ah… I see.”

Zhou Zishu was still rather perplexed by the teen’s reaction.

The others, on the other hand, had failed to notice their interaction as they were too engrossed in their astonishment and lively conversation. A promise-binding spell was a big deal after all!

Having regained his wits, Lan Xiaoli said, “That is correct. He swore on his life to never kill again. If you do not trust him, you can at least trust me.”

Later that night, Lan Xiaoli was in high spirits again. He was currently in his room, letting his hair down in front of a round bronze mirror to get ready for bed.

In the end, he was glad Zhou Zishu had witnessed the promise-binding spell. Without his confirmation, convincing the others might have proven more difficult.

When Lan Xiaoli turned away from the mirror, he was startled to find Zhou Zishu standing behind him, hands tucked into his sleeves, his presence concealed until that moment.

Think of the devil!

“Ah! Uncle Zhou, you scared me. What are you doing here? Can I help you?”

“What was that all about earlier?”

“Hm?”

“You lost your composure and… respect for a moment back there. What happened?”

Lan Xiaoli felt caught for some reason. But there was no way for Zhou Zishu to know what else he’d done with Mu Chun. “Ah… I was just a bit overwhelmed.”

“‘A bit?’” Zhou Zishu narrowed his eyes. “No. There’s more to it.”

Lan Xiaoli bit his bottom lip. “M-Mu Chun told me something confidential and asked me to keep it a secret. It would be unfortunate if anyone else found out.”

“You’re lying.” Zhou Zishu remained adamant.

Lan Xiaoli swallowed nervously. There was no point in further denying it. “...Promise you will not tell my dads.”

Zhou Zishu scoffed. “You had sex.”

Lan Xiaoli’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Shh!!”

Zhou Zishu shook his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment. “After everything that happened your first instinct was to sleep with him?”

“Please do not tell my dads,” Lan Xiaoli begged.

Zhou Zishu sighed. “I won’t mention it.”

Lan Xiaoli smiled in relief, but when Zhou Zishu continued, his smile froze. “For now. Should the information come in handy, I will use it.”

With that, Zhou Zishu took his leave.

“…”

Lan Xiaoli couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t good.

⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩ ❖ ⬩

Two days later, Murong Zheng finally showed up.

When the news reached Lan Xiaoli and the others, they were having breakfast. Wei Wuxian fully expected Lan Xiaoli to jump up right then and there, but against all expectations, he remained remarkably composed.

Wei Wuxian scooted closer to him, his eyes filled with anticipation. “So he’s here. What now?”

It was Lan Xiaoli’s revenge, so it was naturally up to him to decide what to do.

The ‘plan’ he had in mind was quite simple: kill that bastard. 

But that was no longer an option. Not only because his dads were against it, but also because he had promised Mu Chun. As for an alternative plan, he hadn’t thought of one. Instead, he’d put all his faith in Mu Chun.

When asked ‘What now?’, Lan Xiaoli was a bit stumped. He hadn’t thought Murong Zheng would return before Mu Chun had shared his plan with them.

“I… I do not know. Mu Chun said he has a plan, but…”

But Mu Chun had vanished into thin air.

Lan Xiaoli hadn’t seen him since… well, since the incident at the memorial.

Not knowing where else to find him, Lan Xiaoli tried to locate Mu Chun at his hideout, but Mu Chun had stayed true to his word and had burned it to the ground.

Lan Xiaoli still felt rather conflicted about this.

Not knowing where Mu Chun lived, or where else he could find him, Lan Xiaoli had no choice but to remain patient as promised. He figured that Mu Chun was arranging everything needed for a smooth execution.

Yet, Lan Xiaoli couldn’t help but find himself wandering outside every day, secretly hoping to bump into Murong Zheng. He hadn’t considered how to react should they actually cross paths; he figured he’d just take things from there.

Of course, this didn’t happen. In the end, this approach was too optimistic. A person of Murong Zheng’s status wouldn’t just randomly stroll around.

Lan Xiaoli’s promise to Mu Chun didn’t mean he couldn’t pay Murong Zheng’s estate a visit. Days had already passed without any news from Mu Chun, and Lan Xiaoli just wanted to make sure they wouldn’t lose track of Murong Zheng again.

He approached one of the guards at the main gate and asked, sounding as innocent as possible, “Excuse me, sir, do you have any idea whether your lord plans on leaving soon?”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Me and my friend wanted an audience with him, but I have not heard from my friend yet. I am afraid we might miss him,” Lan Xiaoli explained with a hopefully natural smile.

The gatekeeper seemed to buy his story. His face relaxed a bit. Unimpressed, he said, “Our lord’s schedule is strictly confidential.”

Lan Xiaoli had figured as much. Dejected, he thanked the guard anyway and turned to leave, but the gatekeeper stopped him.

“Hey, wait. Aren’t you from the Gusu Lan sect? You are free to enter as a visitor, you know that, right? So if you want that audience right now, you can have it.”

Lan Xiaoli was stunned. He knew that being part of a prestigious sect made entering easier, but he didn’t know it was also a free pass to get an audience. He couldn’t help but smile at the gatekeeper’s kindness. “Thank you, but I promised to wait, so… It is good to know, though.”

The gatekeeper just shrugged and moved his eyes back forward to resume his duty. It wasn’t his responsibility to advise a youngster not to give a damn about that friend and go on without him if the matter was truly urgent.

It took all of Lan Xiaoli’s willpower not to follow the gatekeeper’s suggestion. And yet, his patience waned with each passing day, until it felt like he was running on reserves.

Since confronting Murong Zheng on his own was out of the question, Lan Xiaoli lurked around the residence instead. And he’d always find a different excuse to do so, like scouting for convenient openings or other weak spots in case they needed to break into the building, or overhearing any of Murong Zheng’s upcoming plans.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t as subtle in his endeavour as he thought and was quickly caught by a guard after sneaking around the complex for just a few rounds. The guard dragged Lan Xiaoli away from the residence, turning a deaf ear to any of Lan Xiaoli’s excuses.

While the guard was reprimanding Lan Xiaoli, he spotted Wen Kexing who just happened to pass by.

“Hey you!”

Wen Kexing looked at the furious guard in confusion and pointed at himself.

“Yes, you! You surely are his dad! This one was sneaking around on private grounds. Prestigious or not, if you want a tour you still gotta enter through the main gate! Teach your boy some manners!” As the guard said this, he pulled Lan Xiaoli forward, who had tried to hide behind the man.

Wen Kexing’s eyes bulged when he saw Lan Xiaoli. He resisted the urge to slap his hand to his forehead. His displeasure was nonetheless evident in his voice. “I’m not his dad…”

The guard looked Wen Kexing up and down. White hair and fancy robes, what more proof did he need?

“Who are you trying to fool? The resemblance is uncanny! Here, make sure to punish him properly so he learns his lesson!”

With that, the guard shoved Lan Xiaoli into Wen Kexing and returned to his post, grumbling under his breath. “Youth these days!”

Lan Xiaoli helplessly looked up at Wen Kexing. “Uncle Wen, I am sorry… Please do not tell my dads.”

Wen Kexing sighed. “What’s the big idea? You want to break in? On your own?”

The guilty look on Lan Xiaoli’s face told him that he’d hit the nail on the head. “Let’s say you manage to get in, what’s the plan then? You don’t have one, right? Don’t do it. Be patient.”