Shortstory - Blog Posts

I'll Stay (Me quedaré) -Historia corta Wangxian - Me quedaré (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1381899202-i%27ll-stay-me-quedar%C3%A9-historia-corta-wangxian-me?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=Cabra-alpacazaurio&wp_originator=7GMOuPR72gqqXmiSPFmj2YP4XyzdnmBbcgxZ2O0y9TrziyzLGKj%2BSQ9DEIP4yzunbVMlPlBJcvlMyeBEJy4aWX3kUtUQsegRCxVjJC%2BGSMnnmxehTq9v9S%2BBNaZ6GyPV 

 Universo alternativo donde Lan Wangji decide quedarse con Wei Wuxian en Yiling. ¿Como reaccionará el Patriarca? 

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 Esta es una historia corta de no mas de 2500 palabras de un What if..? hipotético donde el "Happy Ending" llega desde antes.(ponele) Se de otras personas que hicieron fanfics con la misma temática, solo este es mi perspectiva del tema y de como me imagino yo que hubieran ocurrido los acontecimientos.

 No hay contenido explicito, solo la bocota de Wei Ying que nunca se calla jaja. 

Está claro que ni los personajes ni la ambientación me pertenece, esto solo es un fanfics de fan para fans, así que disfruten de la historia por favor <3. 

Todos los créditos son para la autora original Mo Xiang Tong Xiu.

(La imagen de la portada no es mía, yo solo le puse el titulo)

Take Me (H2OVanoss) (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/DZERcbwDqZ **The cover pic belong to me, my drawing and I am not letting no one use it. Jonathan, Evan, Craig, and Tyler are real people, I only write about them in fanfiction so don't take them personal.** **WARNING: Gore and mild language!** Highest Rankings: #94 in h2ovanoss #79 in mystery-thriller Evan lost in a SwampMeet that his fosters parents l…

Change of Pace

Prompt: Individual desire to overcome obstacles

She had always enjoyed the sound of heartbeats. Badum, badum, beating for reasons that are sometimes exciting, sensible, and overall incomprehensible. She never touched a person to try though, not even towards the people that birthed her, maybe once before she knew how to stand up and talk as a ‘small little one,’ but those memories were far too gone in the past for her to go to even reminisce about it.

The splashes of the pitter-patter rain on her feet tickled her senses, instinctively curling herself up as if in an attempt to mooch as much warmth as she could.

“Are you alright?” A voice said. Blinking at the lack of weight of rain drops, curiously, she found herself looking up, wondering at what had happened.

Above her was a transparent dome-like object, held up with a pole connecting in the middle. How odd, she thought, her eyes looking to the person holding the dome-thing up next. A man, wearing a suit, kneeling in front of where she sat. “Do you want to come with me? The rain won’t be stopping anytime soon.” His words tumbled naturally and kindly she was nodding before she realized, thinking of thick blankets under her made her heart flutter, warming her belly, letting herself be picked up without question.

Once there, with the door closed she was put on a couch, the man going off to “get something, make yourself at home.” Shifting her position to be more comfortable, she waited, her eyes wandering from picture to picture hanging on the wall, hearing the sound of footsteps still far away.

One was a dog, the sun rays lighting him on the side as he caught a circle-like thing on the air. She can see the light in the dog’s eyes, the enjoyment so transparent it made her smile. Next was a hand--not like the man though, it looked thinner and paler--adorned in coloured shiny rocks. Not like the first one the picture was more stoic, maybe made to be pretty but nothing more underlying than that. But the last one took her attention, so much that she vaguely registered the blanket she had been looking forward to and the man calling her out.

“Oh, That one? I took that before, before a thing.” Realizing that he was talking about the picture, she turned and listened, seeing the man curling his lips as if hiding his amusement. The picture was the silhouette of a large ladder, holding two people up. One of them that was above looked curled up, as if fearing for his life. Another below the first one seemed eager to go up. She hummed, her heart whirling in wonder and she felt that she’s not the only one if the smile on the man was saying something.

“I was in a city, on a break from work, and one of the communities were working on making the largest pole to exist and to climb--almost like a leap of faith, though your mind and body is your faith to climb rather than just your feet to jump,” he continued, almost finished in rubbing her body dry and sitting himself beside her. “Some people were attempting and I volunteered to take a picture to advertise it for free. That picture didn’t make it since that wasn’t what they were looking for but I kept it and put it up. Though I’m not sure why I did it exactly.”

Instead of feeling her curiosity quenched, it peaked, silently but brimming with questions as she looked straight to his eyes. The stare continued for moments before he hesitantly looked away, pausing to the picture. “Leap of faith, huh…” he murmured under his breath, but she can hear it though she went closer, under his shoulders to his lap. That earned his attention, but instead of the soft expression he would show her his look was flat--his mouth slackened too low and his shoulders hunched too much especially for his tall height.

She waited, the beating in her heart wavered but she resisted. For some reason, she has to know. If ever does she have a reason besides a feeling, it was the face of the man that helped her that made her think that she, too, could repay the gratitude by this. Finally, maybe he saw her conviction or another reason altogether he spoked. “I’m the type of person that doesn’t enjoy changes much, because of that it was difficult to keep up at times. I tried to get used to it, what I got was a job from my first internship at a company. It lasted me until months later.”

“I.. noticed that the employers and the work were more harsh starting last year. I didn’t know why so I continued on my work, ignoring the elephant in the room and went on my way. It was good since some of my jobs required travelling to different places all over the country so I was spared for the most part. One of the younger employees tried to find out why though, and maybe he was so close that--that I didn’t see him the next day when he was called by the higher-ups. We knew him and what he was doing so the mood became worse.”

“I thought, ‘Wow, what a leap of faith guy.’ I’m not sure why, even now, but after I took a picture of that thing I felt invincible, doing the same thing that guy did afterwards and got myself fired. But this time I spread some gossip before I went out and slammed the door.” Suddenly, he chuckled, ruffling her hair. “It’s been a while since that happened so I forgot it in favour of bills and stress. Just a secret between us though, I still hope that the company will change or be bankrupt.”

The beating became more audible, drowned under another beat--stronger and firmer badum, badum--that she cuddled on his chest to hear it more. “Aren’t you cute, you little guy--or girl I’m not sure.” He paused, as if contemplating something. “How about I call you Pace? Ace? You like that better than Pace?”

He smiled, his face lighting up like the dog in the first picture that she can’t help but go along. “Then Ace,” he concluded.

The pelting rain out wasn't lighting up, her ears could confirm it even if the curtains covered the window. But unlike when she would curl up be herself to scavenge whatever comfort she could have despite the flimsy roof before, she curled to the man her mind drowsy that she didn’t quite catch his soft words before she slept.

“Who knew a change of pace could make me remember that I didn’t mind change more than I thought.”

How Unfortunate

As the man gazes his sight above, he reminisces the sky with It's shades of blues turning dark.

A sigh escapes his lips as he continue forward at a leisure pace, nor fast or slow.

His eyes goes downwards showing eyes from sleepless nights. His back hunched, and the suit hooked on his arm slightly kisses the ground.

He murmured under his breath, you can faintly hear complaints after complaints aimed to possibly the culprit of his disheveled appearance.

Finally finishing his gibberish he turns his head casually, noticing that he's the only one causing the sounds of footsteps.

It registers, he paused at his tracks, but move again as if that stop was just a flick of imagination. His exterior is as usual, tired and impassive, but the same can't be said to the man’s eyes darting frantically on every directions.

The street’s quietness and the man’s state gave a delicate air, that a gentle breeze and a lamps flicker can even make the already anxious (though not obvious) man, show more outside.

Step..

Step.

Step..

His body twitches, pace goes fast to slow constantly. Finally as if the man decided something he closed his eyes, opens them again. Calmer pupils showed and the steps were more close to the original.

The aura became more lazy, less strained. Almost covering from his previous actions.

Almost.

A hooded entity enters, walking oppositely to where it came from. Only the build gave away the entity's gender, a male. He wore a long leathery coat, every outfit were only colored black. His face, or rather his eyes were covered by his hat, shaded just like the rest. It's a wonder how he hasn't even broken a sweat from the warm night.

The man froze, sensing the ominous presence. His breath hitched, eyes widen as he secretly took a glance of the hooded person. His head goes down unnaturally, not even resuming the walk, and reluctant to even take a slide step.

Step..

Step..

Step..

Cold sweat began to form, his breath circulates like heartbeats. Sweat dripping from the forehead to the man's jaws at a fast rate.

The man's eyes were covered by his hair, his hand clutches where the heart is, perhaps an attempt to calm his state.

The hooded man didn't batted an eyelid, walking casually as if a man breaking down was of a normal occurrence.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The man did everything, from trying to raise his head and foot, to coughing out a noise. anything to snap out of his state, his body ignored his commands.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded person was nearing, closer and closer by inch to inch.

The man stopped his attempts, maybe giving up.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded man was now there, side by side with the man and stopped.

He leaned close to the man's face, closing in to his ears.

He spoke at a low pitch, but it was as clear. He whispered;

“My condolences.“

The man's shoulders turned rigid and tensed.

The hooded man left, his steps were more quieter.

A moment passed, he let out a breath, barely acknowledging that he was holding one. The man's legs wiggled. He used the wall right next to him and propped himself with his side, struggling to keep himself steady.

He breathed, in and out continuously.

He spoke under his breath, none of the words were understandable. His eyes morphed slowly, the already open wide turned impossibly big. He turns--

A crack echoed on the street.

The man's body limped, falling like a ragdoll. Bones cracking were heard, loud and clear.

Red liquid came out, oozing smells like coppers.

No one noticed until the next day.

••••••••••

Question.

How did the man died? Why was no one there?

Hint: Superpowers exist.

Homecoming

So there’s this girl that I used to play with years ago–call her Jennifer. Like lots of cunts eventually do, Jennifer eventually decided that the time in her life when she was going to explore filthy, disgusting sex was over. She wanted to find a nice boy and settle down. And so she did. But the thing about Jennifer–the thing about cunts like Jennifer, really–is that they don’t want nice boys. They just want to want nice boys.

I think it’s a simple truth that you can only fight your nature for so long. So I wasn’t totally surprised when, about six months ago, maybe halfway into the pandemic, Jennifer started texting me again. It had been about two years since we had ended things, and she’d been seeing somebody nice and vanilla for more than a year of that time. He loved her, she said. He was nice to her. But whenever they were finished having sex, she always excused herself to the bathroom, laid down on the floor with her face near the base of the toilet, and rubbed to orgasm thinking about what I used to do to her.

She thought about how I used to invite a couple of friends over and we’d all brutally fuck her ass. How we made her clean our cocks out of her ass, laughed and called her a shit-licking cunt and a toilet-mouth slut. How I’d make her crawl around the living room naked while we watched the game. How everybody would make her get them beers. (”Get them beers”: we’d make her crawl to the fridge, shove the bottles in her cunt, and then crawl back to us like that. We’d laugh as we pulled the cold bottles out of her wet hole, and then we’d spank her or finger her asshole for a second while she begged for an orgasm we never gave her.) She thought about how we’d make her lick the spit out of the palms of our hands. About how may cocks she sucked for me. (Dozens, easily.) About how I’d made her drink my piss while my friends made videos of it on their phones to jerk off to later. About how I’d make videos of her masturbating and telling me her most disgusting fantasies, and then send those videos out as invitations to our little parties.

She’d tried, she said. But she couldn’t do it. And…would I ever think about taking her back? She’d leave her boyfriend tomorrow, she told me, one hand on her cunt, to be my on-call side bitch. I told her I wasn’t really interested. But she persisted. And I mean for months. Her begging. Sending me pictures and audio files. Telling me all the things she’d do for me. Disgusting things. Horrible fucking cunt things. Me ignoring her. Telling her that I’d moved on. Her begging harder. Sending even more disgusting pictures and audio files. Promising to do even worse things for me. The worst things you can imagine. Worse than that.

Finally I broke down. I told her I’d consider taking her back, but she was going to have to earn it. She said she’d do anything. So I told her that she and her boyfriend should get a hotel room at a particular hotel near my place. She should pay for it and give it to him like a present–a “romantic getaway”. She should imply that there would be lots of fucking on this getaway. She should text me when they arrived. While I was on my way, she should tell him to step out on the balcony and enjoy the view of the city while she got changed into something hot. When he was out there, she should lock the door and wait for me to show up. She could lie on the bed and edge her cunt while he watched thinking about what was about to happen, but she couldn’t let him back in.

When I knocked on the door of their hotel room, she opened the door to the room, dressed in sexy, see-through black lingerie, her panties pulled to one side to expose her wet hole. The whole room smelled like cunt. I laughed, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back into the room.

I looked her boyfriend right in the eye through the glass door, smiled, and slapped Jennifer in the face as hard as I could. He started banging on the sliding glass door with his fists. She reeled, moaned, and leaned down to kiss my foot. As she licked and groaned with pleasure, I looked at him again and laughed. She looked up at me, her eyes worshipful. I spit in her face. She gave my foot another kiss. “I missed you, Sir,” she said. “You’re my king.”

“I know stupid,” I said. I reached down and ripped her lingerie until it was hanging off her like a rag. I grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face into the window so she was looking right at her boyfriend. Then I stuck two of my fingers in her ass. She squealed. I leaned over and whispered into her ear what I wanted her to say to him. She started talking.

She told him that she couldn’t ever really love him. That she was sorry for what she was. Then she begged me to fuck her ass while he watched. To hurt her. I jammed her face against the window harder, reached down to pull my cock out, and pushed into her. She screamed. I started to pound her now-tight hole and I talked to her about the old days, loudly enough for her boyfriend to hear every word. I told her about how my friends missed our anal gangbang cunt. She begged me to call them again. She looked right into her boyfriend’s eyes and told me that she’d do anything if I’d call them again. She told me that to prove her devotion, she’d even beg her loser boyfriend to take her back. She stopped talking to spit right at his face. Her spit landed on the glass. I laughed. Then she continued. She’d beg so hard and so persistently that he would take her back, she said, eventually, and then she’d beg him to marry her. She’d pretend he was her king. She’d convince him. Then, on their wedding night, she’d let my friends come into their honeymoon suite, tie him up, gangbang her, and cover her wedding dress with piss.

I pulled out of her ass and jacked off onto her face. Wiped my cock clean in her hair. Then I pulled her old collar out of my pocket, snapped it back around her neck, and attached her leash. She kicked off the tattered remains of her lingerie. I put my jacket on her so she wouldn’t be completely naked as I walked her to the car. We left the rest of her things in the hotel room and walked out the door, her following me on the leash, shoeless, collared, and almost naked, my cum leaking down her leg. Her boyfriend still on the balcony. For housekeeping to let in, I guess. I never did find out.

One evening my girlfriend explained to me laying on our sofa, that she isn’t satisfied with just one guy. I first was surprized but excited. I asked her why and if she was into threesomes but she refused. Finally she confessed it actually was quite nice having sex with me but that’s it. She needs more, she said.

I admitted that I never had in mind to restrict her liberties and suggested to register again on tinder, the plattform were we had met. She opened her app sitting next to me and she still had her profile – with alot of matches showing up. I wasn’t mad but hella impressed so I agreed that she could pick one guy to start and see if she can get laid. Uhm, she chose an older guy and messaged him the whole evening long. The date was set on the next evening for dinner.

So the next afternoon we went shopping and I bought her a new summer dress. She looked amazing and we had an awesome afternoon. We even ordered a prosecco outside of a café and got drunk before she left for our place. I kissed her and wished her good luck as I stayed in the café waiting for her message to come home too. Half an hour later, one minute before her appointment, I already got a message containing three pictures of her stating she was already all wet and so excited. I was so proud of her being my girlfriend and I was sure that he couldn’t control himself when she opened our door in that cute little dress and that she would get laid that night. Do you think she got fucked good?

My new tinder date will be here any minute!! Do you think I’ll get laid??