dxy-drxxm

[dxy-drxxm]

@mixed-kester us fr

imagine this as your selfship

[dxy-drxxm]

HELP 🤝 so real for the both of us tbh

Ngl self insert x canon are the most powerful people in existence. Like, you wanted to smooch a character and said “yeah, I’m gonna do that” fucking go off king I love that for you

[dxy-drxxm]

Cluvunies/Natt/wvnydiors is a freak.

TW FOR THE FOLLOWING: [MENTIONS R4PE/SUICIDE , GROOMING/PEDOPHILLIC ACTIONS]

I want to thank @goddesskissed & others I will not disclose for privacy reasons for helping me make this doc about Cluvunies & helping me obtain screenshots & recollections of their experiences with cluvunies which inturn help bring light to this disgusting individual.

This is over 60+ pages worth of the things cluvunies has done. It's okay if you can't read it all but it is suggested ^_^

[dxy-drxxm]

Сan I translate your works?

I will credit you as the author =)

Hi! I'm so sorry, but I have to deny your request. Although it'd be nice to receive credit, I don't allow that as it counts with copying my work, even if its in a different language.

I'm so sorry if it sounds rude or mean :( I hope you understand why orz. Have a great day, though! /gen

[dxy-drxxm]

❝MY LETTER TO YOU, MY DARLING❞

↻ synopsis.

↷ it's a rare occasion that they let themselves be away from you for too long, however urgent the situation at hand be. hence, when the urgent matter is in your hands, they find themselves at a loss of words. perhaps they can only sigh for now—and write you letters, of course.

↻ genre and warnings.

↷ this is a series work, presented in the form of a letter. i have tried to closely mimic the writing styles of all of them—but it can't always be accurate. world building and characterizations have been paid attention to. no trigger warnings, simply fluff and stories of mischief and love, alike.

↻ author's note.

↷ most of these will be letters that i wrote during the event and later decide to compile here! so don't panic when i start uploading letters like a maniac lmao. many letters will have to be written anew as well, though! hence, there's no fixed order of updates and it may be inconsistent. you may comment to be added to the taglist; have fun! <3

↻ series tag.

#💌my letter to you my darling

↻ your letters.

❛ all is lost; yet your essence remains.❜

001. 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎—find me when your lamp burns out.

002. 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎—meet me where the sky meets the earth.

003. 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌—in your world; lost and found.

004. 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐇𝐔—'what a coincidence, love!'

005. 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄—snezhnayan winds are blowing eastwards.

006. 𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎—the spark of my love and you the flower; hyperbloom.

007. 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂—midmorning sparkle, reminiscent of your gaze.

008. 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆—monstrous eyes and pleasant smiles.

009. 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔—watatsumi's trusted pirate.

010. 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔—'with desperation from my love filled heart.'

011. 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀—with ice, roses, gunpowder, and love.

012. 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇—a worried lover's innocent chant.

013. 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀—the loving wind that blows from the north.

014. 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘—purring in my hat, the cat in my heart.

015. 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄—revelling in your memory, a lover of yours.

016. 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀—the retainer's call of love.

017. 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈—silver, gold, platinum but greatest is my love.

018. 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈—a lonesome bard's sober musings.

019. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑—peacock and gold, yet prettier is his lotus.

020. 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘—a game of charades, with all but my love.

021. 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎—lonesome transcendence does not make up for love.

022. 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈—to the world's best, busiest, and nicest wife.

024. 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓—'awkwardly my pen moves, yet only love translates.'

023. 𝗔𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥—in the solemn memory of an old lover.

???. 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡—'to you, whom i have cherished most.'

© @tearskillstardust; do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site.

[dxy-drxxm]

@zhongrin teehee

TO BE LOVED ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧

CH. 2 ━ ZHONGLI, THE POET

synopsis. ⤷ to be loved by genshin men who appreciate art forms – where their favourite piece of art is you. a series where you, the reader, are their muse. let them love you in the way they know best – their mastercraft. this is a reupload + additions of my work from my previous blog.

genre + warning. ⤷ poet!zhongli x gn!reader. comfort & fluff.

to be loved by zhongli, the poet — the words he spins materialises out of his infatuation for you. at first glance, the words seem so bombastic – so huge, so big, that they don’t make any sense. but they are beautiful; his words are so sweet and lovely, coming together to form endless love poems addressed to the one person he has fallen harder and harder for every single day. you.

“are you sure that’s a real word?” you laugh lightly, peering over his shoulder to glance at the newest word on his yellowed paper. eudaimonia, you read curiously.

“my dear, i would assume so,” he replies, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “i believe it means for a person to be of a flourishing, happy state. the thesaurus that tartaglia had obtained for me says so, but if you think otherwise, we can most certainly track down the author to contest that.”

“i trust the author.” you giggle.

“as do i.” zhongli presses a kiss to your forehead, and turns back to his pen.

you watch as he strings together sentences – sentences so lovely, you could never have ever imagined them to be about you. there is a flutter in your heart as you realise that he does so with such ease – words about you come easy when they are all that have consumed him.

he describes the slight smile on your face when you reread one of your favourite books, or the fact that your laugh has two sounds – one like the tinkling of wind chimes, the other a boisterous, unbridled roar. his pen greets the paper once again, and you hear the gentle scratching of the tip against the sheet. he talks about them with such beauty that you cannot help but wonder if it really is about you at all.

you, my dear, are the reason i am able to rest at home with eudaimonia – my pillar, my rock, my lifeline.

“that’s beautiful. your poems are is lovely as always.” you whisper, wrapping your arms tenderly around him from behind. he leans into the warmth of your touch, sweetly, lovingly, falling into your embrace.

“well, my dear – it would only make sense for my words to reflect the most pleasing of things to me.”

he laughs lightly as you press a kiss to his cheek.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Kaeya has a lot of things he enjoyed about you. Or, well, admired, to be frank.

CW/s: tooth rotting fluff, short drabble, kaeya is a hopeless SIMP (/silly), tbh he's just a silly guy who can't confess if his life depended on it (and... It did lol), can be interpreted as platonic or romantic (it's both, but it's a slow transition from platonic to romantic hehe)

NOTE: hi, this drabble is for @ryuryuryuyurboat for @ecrin-de-litterature's "kiss (don't tell)" event! I hope you enjoy a drabble of Kaeya being a hopeless simp because as much as I'd like to write a full blown date with him, I've been busy since college and I want to curl up and pass away. orz.

Kaeya never says a lot about the person he admires.

For him, the Cavalry Captain had more than enough to take care of. Maybe it was due to the job that kept him busy, or even because of how life gave him a batch of lemons that he needed to deal with.

But when it comes to certain people like who he's seen now, it made him feel as though he became but the same child when Cyrus adopted him all those years ago.

He still remembered the first time you two met—you were one of Lisa's attendants. An assistant, one could say. You're always available whenever Lisa isn't feeling the urge to check in the library, which is often, and Kaeya had decided to try and see what you're like.

Sure, you may have panicked and treated him like a stranger, but it wasn't long for you two to get close. Soon, you're treating him like you two have been friends for years, joking and laughing over certain things.

Kaeya couldn't help but smile. He always liked seeing others express joy when he couldn't.

Though, little by little, the dynamic seem to change. Others pointed out to him that you and Kaeya had been together for quite a while now, always speaking and chatting over the most mundane things.

Petty drama from the knights, Lisa's recent books and those who borrowed arriving late, the many foreigners that came about when the traveler would be busy in another region... You two had a lot to talk about, and sometimes, he didn't notice how much you two could never stop speaking of such things.

It was stupid, he's aware, but he wouldn't lie and say he didn't like it. On the contrary, he enjoyed that time being spent on something he considering to be enjoyable.

You made his days less unbearable. Like he can wake up one day and think that things will be fine.

He admired that charm from you. You make it seem so... natural.

There were even moments that the two of you shared. He remembered your first Windblume festival with him, the first time you've spent working for a year with Lisa (it was your work anniversary, he joked to you once), and even down to when you two travelled to different nations together.

He's seen it all— your highs, lows, and even the turnarounds. He's heard you rant and ramble of the nations, and yet he felt his pride raise when you'd return to Mondstadt, still calling it your home.

It was clear that you have seen that place, out of every nation, as the best. In return, he did his best keeping it safe. Although, there had been moments he would mess up.

He may act confident, but when alone, he'd feel like he's a lost child again. He loathed that feeling.

The first time you've seen him act like it was when you two spoke of each other's pasts. Kaeya has told you what happened between him and Diluc, and he could never forget the way you hugged him for hearing his voice crack.

He cares for Diluc, like how he cares for you. However, how could he say the same for his adopted brother? Would he ever do the same thing you did to him?

... Perhaps. Perhaps not, even.

Still, he couldn't help but think how much he can even handle this feeling. It's a secret he's kept that your actions made him feel like he can be free, yet he kept himself trapped by will.

He was trapped in the feeling of admiration and envy, clashing and fighting against each other. It made his heart soar and ache when things happen, both because of you and because of himself.

He felt envious of you. He wanted to say that to you, but seeing you smile got rid of that envy.

...

It was a strange conundrum. One that left him sleepless for nights on end... And that's when it clicked.

He realized that it was a form of self-sabotage.

Kaeya didn't want to ruin the relationship you two had as friends, so he kept it under lock and key. He threw the key away, denying that he felt something to you. Denying that he felt as though he loved you that way. He couldn't. He didn't even know the answer.

...

It was stupid to worry. It truly is.

But now? How could he not worry?

He's done this to himself. Even if others told him to say it, to utter those words he forbade himself from speaking, he kept his mouth shut. You two are friends, and he's far too used to admiring you and your acts from afar.

He's craved to admire someone that would make him feel this way, and he got what he asked. Although, he couldn't bring himself to hate you for charming him like that.

After all, that is what makes you you. And he doesn't want you to lose the only thing that fits you perfectly.

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2024

[dxy-drxxm]

Why do you reblog your own fics so much?

Because someone might as well!? And look at this. Look. At. This.

Does this look right to you??

These are just the last three fics I wrote. I appreciate the likes, believe me I do, but you have to understand. Likes do nothing for content creators. It’s the reblogs. Because that’s how you find shit on your dashboard. Through reblogs. Not likes. This isn’t twitter or tiktok or instagram. This is a website that’s run by the reblog system.

Reblogging helps content creators put their stuff out there. Why do you think so many people stopped writing fanfic and creating beautiful fanart and edits? It’s because they put in hours of work and don’t get nearly enough notes for their masterpieces. Yes we do this because we enjoy it but like...some validation won’t hurt. A boost of confidence here and there might be all someone needs to finish whatever thing they started and left.

Anyway, I’m still going to reblog my shit...

[dxy-drxxm]

They having an important dragon discussion 🤌🤌

[dxy-drxxm]

furina: makes you bleed to death

al haitham: infodumps you to death

/silly

beloathed writer's block hskdhskd but also like. you have another event ongoing on the other blog too. and i'm sure you're also busy with assignments and other stuff too, so yk. don't blame yourself too much *pat pat*

i noticed... i'm guessing bc everyone who's doing ebg is in genshin fandom and has no knowledge of idv, so they're unsure how to sabotage?? or at least that's my theory. a game theoー /smacked

NAW HE WOULD JUST GO DR. RATIO AND BE ALL "Minus. Get out." like yessir 🫡 (< terrified of him because he'd be that one prof you'd unironically be simping or in massive fear)

That's true... orz, maybe my brain just has its way to defaulting there 😔 oh well. It do b like that sometimes.

I'm guessing bc everyone who's doing ebg is in genshin fandom and has no knowledge of idv, so they're unsure how to sabotage??

That COULD be it. I wanted to make the story more of a one off spin with the thought of the whole "oh yeah each time you die, you revive in the manor" but MAN. Now I'm just wondering if I should've went Genshin like everyone else if it uh. Failed that badly. orz.

(HELP NOT THE GAME THEORY REFERENCE... HELP ME I CAN HEAR IT)

[dxy-drxxm]

NOT THE BAD END HAUGDKSODJSKD

i should've came in with al haitham, man probably has a medical knowledge in that brain of his orz

congrats for surviving ebg tho navi!!!

Honestly if Haitham was the hunter and not Furina (bloody queen), I feel like things would've went differently 😔 we both know how this man goes fr

Thank you though but orz :" writing for this EBG season has been a bit taxing. I might do a reboot of the IDV AU though, it's probably the most fun I'll get because witch haitham is on my brain.

(and yeah, the bad ending fr 😔 no one came to sabotage me much so I went 'fuck it, time to get to the bad end and do a reboot' HAISBSISJS)

[dxy-drxxm]

...

Waking up from their slumber, they felt that their body was in a state of limbo. The feeling of space and time being pushed to a halt, and the feeling of bitter sorrow filled their entire body.

They knew where they woke up.

I'm back.

Raising their body, they looked up towards the expanse. The starry sky was all bit a hoax, and they felt like it was mocking them.

They died. They lost their life in a world of make-believe, one that they were in to stave off the sense of loneliness in their system.

...

Letting out a bitter chuckle, they felt tears pour down.

... I miss you, mahal.

The world I went to is lonely. It doesn't have you there, after all.

Where did you go, mahal? Did you die without me knowing?

Reaching over to the book they were obsessing over, they saw more come down, reminding them of the inevitable. It reminded them of the bitter, honest truth of the job they took without even knowing all those years ago.

Even if I'm in the void, I'll die over and over in hopes of seeing you, mahal ko, they thought sadly, the tears continuing to pour and fall into the endless abyss.

Please, come back to me. Please come back.

"The wind feels somber tonight, doesn't it?"

The sound of strings being plucked echoed as a certain archon stood by the graves, his smile falling short to express his emotions. What was in front of him, truly, felt too bitter to explain.

It was years since his own companions died. Just like the nameless friend he had, others were bound to leave him.

He's an archon. He knows that. However, it doesn't mean that it was painless. To him, each time someone loses their final breath and the vision he gives out lost its light... It felt like knives.

Crouching down and placing flowers on their graves, he placed the lyre on top of one in particular.

The cruelty of one's memories plagued him. And in the end, he knew it will play out the same, with or without their interference.

"My darling Windblume, you've done enough for me," he whispered, reading the etching of the stone slab with a sad smile. "Please, rest easy. I know that one day, we will meet again."

What was etched on the stone slab were the following words:

Here lies N█v██a M███s█ Our forgotten novelist, one who's heart spills emotions with no one to hear them. May your next life bring you peace.

[ BAD END - Forgotten ]

[dxy-drxxm]

venti has dealt with loss before. he’s an archon, for goodness’ sake. he should be used to this by now. but somehow you leaving has absolutely destroyed him, leaving him to down far too many glasses of dandelion wine in the tavern night after night until diluc throws him out at three in the morning for drunkenly crying about you. what was he missing? what had he done wrong? he simply can’t understand, and when the whispers of the wind tell him that you’ve found someone new, he feels his heart crack again. now the people of mondstadt wonder why the famed bard with the twin braids only croons tragic songs about lost love and heartbreak, and why his eyes are always glistening with tears throughout his performances.

– 🦔

The sound of glass clinking was the only thing echoing in the empty winery.

Diluc checked the time. It's already 12 in the afternoon, but he hasn't seen anyone familiar to him enter. What an irony, especially now that he's witnessed someone that he cherished endure a fate not spoken to mankind.

He knew what happened. He's seen it occur since that week, but he refused to entertain the possibility that it could've been true. Call him insane, but he trusted his friend to not fall so easily for a coma.

Still... He couldn't help but sigh and regard your statement. You were his only customer—the rest have retired for the occasion, and you were here, spewing things he knew.

Except for one thing, though.

"They're in a coma," he told you, wiping the glass and putting it away. "I don't know why you'd tell me what I know, but they've been in it for a week. And that person you mentioned has been an acquaintance of theirs."

I don't understand how they'd choose her over him, but... It's not my business to tell.

Besides, informing him was too little, too late.

He witnessed the anguish when the news came. When the same thing you said became true, but not in a way you'd expect.

Maybe you'd have better luck the next time their life repeats, as he's sure that it wouldn't.

Now that they're gone.

[dxy-drxxm]

The novelist knew that their death was inevitable.

It was ironic. Oh, so terribly ironic and palpable, too. After all, they experienced this cycle when they saved the embalmer from being killed by a hunter.

Feeling the metal scrape in their wound, they knew that in their mind, it was inevitable for them to die. Still, they tried to reach out and hold her wrist, as if to stop her from going too far.

It's over for this life, they wanted to tell her. However, their mouth remained sealed.

They could hardly hear the embalmer speak, the soft buzzing in their ear growing louder and louder. It made them grimace, for they hated the sound that they're hearing, alongside the thudding of their heart.

It was the same song and dance again. Each time they die, the entire thing repeats. They reawaken in the manor, they see Jean and Barbara, they even see their friends and acquaintances...

It was the same. It was the same, even if they wanted to change the fate they were given. And it hurts.

But this time was different. After all, if they die now, they'll never wake up in the same place again. They won't be able to see their friends again— they won't see the same people when it happens.

Like now.

Feeling their eyes close bit by bit, their grip grew slack.

Yet again, they sacrificed themselves for their friend. And yet, they aren't sure if this will lead them back to the beginning.

...

Let me rest, embalmer, they mouthed, their eyes closing as they took their final breath.

And we shall meet again.

[ 2 SURVIVORS REMAINING ] [ THE NOVELIST BLED OUT. ]

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Ghost hunting is a term she'd never find herself using again. Not after she's seen what she shouldn't have.

CW/s: tragedy levels of horror (slightly exaggerated), implied gore, animosity, unresolved conflict (that gets on hold) and character death(s? yeah). Please, please dni, this fic is purely sfw but it will go through the darker topics for a bit.

NOTE: inspired by the song "the dentist's swamp" (both survivor and hunter side), recent entry for @i23kazu's ebg. Its honestly an excuse to write smth horrific (IDV AU)

Entering White Sand Street Asylum, the match begins like how they are used to, and especially with where the embalmer found herself in.

Or, well, what should be something that she's used to. After all, she didn't realize that things could change way, way too swiftly.

Avoiding the blade sent by the queen, Furina, the ferrylady kept sprinting from the beheaded ruler in all of her glory. 2 ciphers had been decoded, but they needed to do 3 more, and they lost a member in the cruel game of 'hide and seek'.

It was a shame, really. They were sure that Emilie, the perfumer, would've been able to avoid her should they have relied less on her perfumes and more of her surroundings.

"I thought that an embalmer like you wouldn't have given her the chance of rebirth," the queen seem to call out, their chase continuing as she tried to hinder her with the mirror and fail. "What made you change, hm? Did something happened?"

"Like Hell will I tell you," the embalmer retorted, vaulting a window and slipping inside the next room over the hall. "After all, you'd use what I say against me and everyone else."

The hunter laughed as she narrowly avoided a big glass shard after her, lowering her body before she scrambled up and away. She could vaguely hear the sound of fabric hitting wood as she left the church, her shoes slamming on the ground as her heart raced a million miles an hour.

There was something to be said about getting chased by something that can, in simpler terms, drive one mad. And surely, she would've learned how bad it is to catch a hunter's attention by now... But she didn't.

If anything, it was almost like she was compelled to do it again. Maybe it was something that she couldn't deny, as she has yet to learn her lesson on how to deal with the residents.

Or to even pay attention to where she's heading.

In the midst of it all, she found herself panting, heaving as she tried to get the lady in red away from her. But when she felt that hope was too far from her reach, she felt a hand yank her wrist and pull her over.

She was about to flinch and pull them away, but she fell short when she saw who it was that was trying to save her.

Placing a finger on their lips, they kept crouching behind the abandoned furniture as they heard the soft humming of the hunter. Their heartbeats were beating rapidly, but it didn't took long until the hunter has left the vicinity. At least, for now.

"... There," the novelist whispered, letting go of the embalmer with a sigh. "We should be safe from Madame Red. She's not the brightest like the Photographer, but we should stay cautious. Who knows when she's coming back?"

... Ah. I forgot, she thought somberly. When it comes to matches, they're not the type to joke around... How careless of me.

"... Of course. Although, with the pace we're going I think she will find a difficult time finding a new survivor to go after," the woman explained, standing up to pull the latter as well, facing the once wiggling cipher. "After all, that man is not one to kid around in a match."

Ah, the 'Prisoner'. I have never known what his story is, but to think that someone would have the utter audacity to demote a Warden from his position...

"Mm, but that's besides the point," the novelist muttered, seeing the injuries she retained. "And especially when you were kiting Madame Red, too. Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine," she replied, albeit her tone did sound a bit cold. "I hadn't been hit hard enough to be impaled, thankfully. She's not good with a mirror shard than a sword."

At the corner of her eye, the novelist's mouth seem to open... But it closed, though she did catch the sight of a small frown.

Ah.

"You worry too much, Navina," the embalmer added, reaching over to pat their head. Still, she saw that the frown remained.

It seems she's done it now... How unfortunate.

"I know, I'm just... I suppose being concerned over someone is a little unnecessary," they added, grabbing her hand to pull it away. They turned their head to the cipher, beginning to work on it once more.

"Anyway, let's focus on the match first. I don't want to delay any second we have over something you don't want me worried about."

Charon's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Walking over to their side, she began to turn the cogs, making sure that the machine worked as it should be.

...

The silence is oddly deafening. It was almost hard to ascertain how they're feeling, especially when she's aware that her words led them to be so quiet. Even if they are friends, there were bound for disagreements to arise between each other.

Such is the way of life, especially in a manor that's hellbent on setting itself up for manslaughter with everyone's grim experiences.

The only sounds that surround them were the laughter echoing from outside, the slams of pallets and groans, and even the eerie clangs of the bell when the hunter regained more of her power.

Charon and the others were familiar to the sound. It was haunting as it was enchanting, and even she couldn't deny, she gets scared the more she hears it.

Maybe it reminded her of those church bells that were too big for one to deal with and use, or even those in Eversleeping Town, wherein the 'ringing' you'd hear was the tram's arrival. Whether it's goal was to simply cause a freak accident or for a hunter to be sent off flying for being too careless, she didn't knew.

In those moments of her lack of self-awareness, she could vaguely hear someone calling out to her. It sounded familiar, and yet she continued to ignore it, like she wasn't planning to see who could be bothering her.

"...ey..."

Just what goes on in the manor's walls, anyway? Was there something that no one understood?

"... H..."

Were the others here for a different reason, perhaps? Was she here for someone else to use her like a puppet?

"...ro...!"

Just... what's going on? And who even is she? What even are they?

"Look out!"

The piercing sound of shattered glass caught her attention, and the feeling of time slowed down as she watched the scene unfold in her very eyes.

Death was not uncommon in the world they live in. In a way, death felt akin to the sweet release that they can get from each of their matches. But to the embalmer, it felt like a harsh slap to the face.

Blood seem to pour out right in front of her as the novelist took the hit. The mirror shard had went through to their body, but from the look in their eye, they seemed far too relieved to care of their current predicament than anything else.

"Oh, good... You're finally aware," she heard them say, but it was short lived when the object was yanked from their chest, letting them stumble and fall on top of the embalmer.

No.

Catching them, blood began to pour on her attire out of panic. She could see the queen wipe off her bloodied shard, which didn't give her enough time to process everything.

Hoisting the severely injured novelist, the survivor dashed off, hearing the laughter from the hunter as their hearts began to beat as wildly as it can. Although theirs stuttered as they lost blood at each step, this only pushed her to go faster.

She needed to go someplace safe, someplace where she can safely embalm them, even if the process is as painful as it gets.

"Breathe for me, okay?" the embalmer told them, hoisting them up so their head would rest on her shoulder. "Come on, I need you to breathe. You'll be okay. I won't let you die."

"You won't...?"

"Not if I have a say in it," she hissed, vaulting another window and pallet. The sight of the walls around them seem to deteriorate the longer she carried the injured survivor, causing her to grimace.

She never liked the memories associated with White Sand Street Asylum. They're as unpleasant as they come, and the two were able to attest to it.

After all, the first few times they came to the asylum, it was due to a somewhat foolish quest.

Klee, the youngest survivor, had asked her and a few others if they could explore back then. She has heard of multiple rumors of the asylum being filled with ghosts, and unfortunately for the child, she hasn't been told of the horror stories with them.

And just like any other child who's yet to experience the scare of a lifetime, she asked her, Albedo, and Navina to investigate with her and see if the ghosts were really lurking from down below.

Safe to say, though, the embalmer knew too well of the outcome and made sure that she didn't get to see the things that they had to.

She couldn't forget how it felt to step foot in the halls of the abandoned asylum the first time. She couldn't forget how it felt as though time ceased to move when she caught sight of the bodies laid in some of the rooms, some of them covered with a stained gray cloth, but the stench being putrid like no other.

Klee wanted to see what it was at first, but catching whiff of it had made her stop asking. Even Albedo made sure that the other two can walk through it, his hold on the younger child firm.

It was only when they reached room 13 that she saw an unsightly view of one of the newest patients in the vicinity.

It was too difficult for Charon to explain what she found, but every time she found herself recalling, it was almost like she wanted to hurl. And as bad as it sounds, she knew that it was the safest place they can go.

No man or monster would come a step near that room, and that was their only option for a refuge.

Skidding down the halls, she slipped for a moment before running to her right, making a slight turn to dash towards room 13. The door was open, so it didn't took long for her to slam it open with her right side, barreling in.

Side stepping, Charon pushed herself back and closed her eyes, pushing all of her bodyweight and theirs to close the door shut.

Ca-chunk!

...

The strench was stronger than last time, she notes. But it was the price she had to pay, as its for the sake of their safety.

And it would seem that it paid off, considering their heart beat stopped thundering when the hunter got near. She did screamed in disgust at the smell permeating from the room they're in, making her chuckle.

Ah... It was worth the effort.

Looking down at Navina's body, she laid them down. She needed to ignore the monstrosity of the patient's body that used to reside in the room, since the novelist had passed out.

Turning to the door, the embalmer opened it up enough to let light pass, this time turning to see the damage on the other survivor's body to see what happened.

... Sheesh.

Pulling the handle of the case off of her arm, she opened it and grabbed the items she needed.

No time.

She raised the syringe she retrieved, and the scalpel she had always thought of carrying for an emergency extraction.

It's time to operate on a patient.

@.dxy-drxxm | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2024

[dxy-drxxm]

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[dxy-drxxm]

the former teahouse owner waved at the ferrylady when she spotted the fellow survivor.

“oh, hi, ms. charon! i was wondering where you were,” she stepped closer to the embalmer, though while still maintaining a respectful distance, “you seemed busy at the recent lunar festival event. how are you holding up? i hope you got to relax after all that!”

Seeing the teahouse owner, ferrylady's eyes seem to widen for a moment. After a while, she nodded at her in greeting, sipping the tea she brewed.

Hm... That novelist isn't present today. Are they in a match?

"I'm doing well after the festival. Granted, it took a while to recover, but the others managed to take care of it when we're done in our job for the night."

... What? Nightingale informed them to do just that when the four of them got through their tasks, and she knew that there would be others that can cover them if necessary.

"How about you, miss 茶艺师? Is there anything I can do for you?"