#chinese fanfiction

[lotusflowerbreakingthesurface]

Let's Talk About PingXie: Part 3

PingXie Fanfiction Vocabulary

Or "Some Words in PingXie Fanfiction That Can't Be Translated Properly by MTL" XD

Here is a list of words that I found interesting and occasionally appeared in PingXie fanworks. I couldn't find the exact equivalents for most of them in English, so please excuse me for the long explanation. My friend helped me out, but my knowledge is still limited (⁠^_^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

It's not a complete list (and kinda random). Please note that they are mostly used in PingXie/DMBJ fandom, I don't know about other fandoms. I may add some more, if I find it again.

🆕Update: the follow-up is here, it's a compilation of tags

©Divider by @saradika-graphics, @anitalenia

窗户纸 (mtl: window paper) : it's like a trope where they're being so ambiguous and the status of their relationship may not be revealed, but everyone also knows that they are lovers. It's a special connotation of symbolic objects in Chinese culture, refers to two people who have a very deep love but did not confess to each other, their feelings are hidden in the heart. Other people also know that their relationship is similar to lovers but they did not say it. It's like a layer of window paper has not been pierced.

捅窗户纸 (mtl: pierce the window paper) : it's almost the same as the previous one, but they come to the realization of their feelings and confess to each other. They end up together, become lovers.

论坛体/直播体 (mtl: forum body/live broadcast body) : something like Social Media AU, but it's often on the forum instead or written in forum style.

竹马 (mtl: bamboo horse) : a male childhood friend

校草 (mtl: school grass/school bully) : the most handsome boy in the school

沙雕 (mtl: sand sculpture) : funny and silly

骨科 (mtl: orthopedics) : incest

伪骨科 (mtl: pseudo-orthopedics) : they are brothers but not real siblings

清水 (mtl: clear water) : no description of s*xual activities

破镜重圆 (reunited after a broken mirror) : they meet again after separation which is usually not in a good way/unreconciled

本传 (mtl: biography) : refers to the main story of DMBJ

杭州名木/杭州著名木头 or 吴邪，杭州一块有名的木头 (mtl: Wu Xie, a famous piece of wood in Hangzhou) : it's like comparing Wu Xie to the wood, because he is being oblivious and insensitive, he doesn't notice that Zhang Qiling loves him haha. There is a meme based on this lol.

Meme source: I forgot where I found it, but there should be a watermark on it. I translated the picture on the right side using mtl with a few corrections. Sorry for my poor translation (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

铁木真/铁・木・真 (tiě mù zhēn/temujin) : it's not Genghis Khan here, it's a pun or a joke about Wu Xie. It's like the previous one, but added one more element.

"铁" (mtl: steel/iron) for "钢铁直男" means he is a straight man of steel

"木" (mtl: wood) for "杭州著名木头" means he is the famous wood in Hangzhou

"真" for "天真" Wu Xie's "Tiānzhēn"

白月光 "bái yuèguāng" (mtl: white moonlight) : the first love that can't be forgotten

吴山四美 "wúshān sì měi" : four beauties of Wushan(ju)—Wu Xie, Zhang Qiling, Xie Yuchen, Hei Xiazi

嫩牛五方 "nèn niú wǔ fāng" : a group of five people—Wu Xie, Zhang Qiling, Pangzi, Xie Yuchen, Hei Xiazi

挨千刀 (mtl: suffer a thousand cuts) : it is used to scold someone, but it is not insulting them. Its tone is more into worried rather than being angry. For example, Wu Xie complains "挨千刀的闷油瓶" in his heart, it sounds like he uses a spoiled tone to show his annoyance.

醋[瓶] (mtl: vinegar) : jealous [Zhang Qiling]

墨水[瓶] (mtl: ink) : a slight dark [Zhang Qiling]

排雷 (mtl: demining) : a setting that you should pay attention before reading, usually it is unacceptable for most people.

黑金古刀 (mtl: black gold ancient sword/black gold ancient knife) : Xiaoge's sword

大白狗腿 (mtl: big white dog legs) : Wu Xie's dagger

发丘指 (mtl: hair mound finger/Faqiu finger) : Zhang Qiling's two long fingers

哥嫂 : brother and sister-in-law, refers to Zhang Qiling (哥) and Wu Xie (嫂)

吃软饭 "chī ruǎn fàn" (mtl: eat soft rice) : a slang that means men rely on women to survive

吃豆腐 (mtl: eating tofu) : something like taking advantage of others, teasing or flirting, etc.

PA : parody

脐橙 (mtl: navel orange) : a wordplay of "骑乘" which means r*ding aka c*wgirl position

水煎 (mtl: boiled water/water decoction) : a word play for "睡奸" which means somn*philia

Doi : same as ML (from English "do" and "i" from Chinese "Love" (爱 "ài")

双龙 (mtl: double dragon) : double p*netration

爆炒/炒 (mtl: stir-fry/fried) : to b*ng someone, "炒" is a wordplay of "f*ck"

XP : s*xual fetish

SP : sp*nking

QJ : r*pe

Some of them courtesy of PinkSnake. Thank you for all the help!🌹

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[high-pot-in-noose]

Hi, I noticed you have a great post on Chinese titles and such - which I have found really handy when writing my mdzs fics. So thank you so much for that.

I was wondering if you knew what young masters (plural) is? Is it just gongzi or something else entirely?

Any help would be amazing!!

So, I apparently got this ask 4 days ago, and yet it only appeared in my inbox just today. I'd apologize for the wait, but ʅ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʃ

The plural form for any sort of word for an individual is actually quite simple! You simply attach '-men'! You don't see plural forms of titles and terms of address very often because they tend to be directly translated, but it really is that easy. 'Gongzi' becomes 'gongzimen', 'shixiong' and shidi' become 'shixiongmen' and 'shidimen'. It's also gender-neutral, so you can also do 'guniangmen' and 'shimeimen' and such.

Hope this answer is still helpful!

[journeytothewestresearch]

A Catalog of the Monkey King’s Magic Powers and Skills

I am happy to announce that I've finished my 177-page catalog of Sun Wukong's powers from all 100 chapters of Journey to the West. Fans of Lego Monkie Kid and Black Myth: Wukong, fanfiction writers, and artists will certainly find it useful.

[f0point5]

Lights, camera, bitch, smile

Part 18 of the Lando Norris x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au

Previous

A/N: The way the plot has changed no less than 4 times this weekend 😂 thanks Lando for this emotional rollercoaster. Thank you also to the person who said Lando and Y/N were giving Alchemy vibes, you inspired me a lil. I hope you like this part. If you don’t you can blame Lando. 🫶

Tags

@s0meth1ngs @mcmuppet @bborra @elliefindlater @stan-josie @ivegotparticulartaste @tildaharoldsegna @nikfigueiredo @cixrosie @bored-brunette2 @lovewithmary @painfromblues @buckybarnex @sainzluvrr @92spcy @ninifee1802 @mineandneveryours @mv1-hoe-era @friday5thapril @sltwins @rd14 @freakfromnorth @nikolaros22 @lanando4 @nichmeddar @leptitlu @biitch-with-wifi @leireggsworld @dreamingofautopia @satellitelh @formulaal @belennasif @woozarts @cherry-piee @saintchxx4 @kave18 @holy-macncheese-balls @dreamsarebig @shiftingtomydrs @k-pevensie28 @ssararuffoni @f1-is-lovely-33 @amalialeclerc @bellewintersroe @haydenisdumbpdf @be-your-coffee-pot @tall-tanned-tattoo @lilipiggytails @booksandflowrs @basicchelsea @localwhoore @loaves4me @seraferina @abysshaven @lozzamez3

[rocketqueen1989x]

his lap looks so comfy

[nyonfren]

summer ghost

[lurkinginnernarrator]

MDZS au where WWX isn't rescued by the jiangs and he basically becomes a Mafia boss. Or whatever the equivalent for ancient Xianxia China Mafia boss is

Just, imagine it: An elegant man robed in white ducks into a low den, tucked away in the labyrinthine city alleys.

A fair yet strong hand pushes aside gauzy carmine arrases, yet his keen vision remains partially veiled. Lazy clouds of smoke intermingle with the rich fabrics that cocoon the low-slung chambers.

Men and women alike crowd the ornate hall, a variety of characters all in different stages of repose. The rich tones of liquor, incense and secondhand smoke perfume the room. From respectable scholars to disreputes of society, unowned and owned women, thieves and merchants, criminals.

The low humming of a multitude creates a melodious baseline of noise.

A thin yet surprisingly forceful hand clamps down on Lan Wangji's shoulder. Lacquered nails dig through the fabric and into his muscles. A feminine voice cuts through the polyrhythmic thrum of voices, drawling.

"And what, is a man like you doing here?"

Woman and cultivator meet eyes. She's small, yet her build is strong. Wrapped in vermillion brocade, cold eyes and a strong brow. Hair bound tightly, ornamented with glinting hairpins. There are blades hung on her belt. Lan Wangji bows his head respectfully, baritone joining the chorus of voices around.

"I would like to meet him."

Her gaze is sharper than a serrated edge. She steps deeper into the room, eyes flicking about the occupants and back to Lan Wangji. Back turned, he can only see the profile of her face as she considers the audacity of his request.

"And why should I, Bái-daozhang?"

白 Bái: Artic, Snowy, White, Bright.

Steadily, he replies.

"I would speak to him."

She snorts, swinging her head in his direction.

"I'm afraid a reason like that won't suffice. And quite simply, Bái-daozhang, you remain here on my sufferance.

State your goal."

Four women bleed out from the crowd, penning him in.

Right as Lan Wangji was about to speak, a strong and merry voice calls out from the depths of the chamber.

"Li-jiejie! What have you caught there? Bring it here."

She glares at Lan Wangji but motions him forward, deeper into the den. Two red clad women flank him, escorting him to the source of that mellifluous voice. His eyes search for the other two, but it seems they bled back into the hubbub.

He's hustled through curtains and past partitions, the crowd thinning out the further he's taken. More and more red robed persons flit past his vision.

Two guards stand by a veiled doorway, stances relaxed yet emitting a dangerous aura. They merely observe as Lan Wangji is ushered through the heavy embroidery and silks.

Low tables lurk at the edges of the room, from the rafters hang black tapestries, the smell of wood and candle wax welcomes him in. A draft carries the signature of wine to him.

Littered around the room are people, some caught in amicable conversation, others observing the proceedings.

His generals, perhaps.

At the head of the room is a man. The man. He sprawls on a mahogany throne, cushions and pillows artistically strewn about him, lending his position overabundant gravitas.

An irreverent hand swirls a jar of wine. Leather braces peek out from beneath long black sleeves that fan about his sides. His robes cling to his chest and torso, displaying the man's lithe and powerful body.

Not dissimilar easygoing musculature of a panther. He moved like a river at night.

Black and grey skirts played about his ankles, the polished leather of his boots catching the diffused light.

His waist was trim and firm, wrapped in crimson textile, the red of his waist meeting the black of his chest in pleasing contrast. Lan Wangji's eyes travelled up. Tanned skin parted his collars, revealing a structured collar-bone and sinewy neck. Long hair framed his bust, locks burning copper in the light.

Outdoors from a young age would explain the bronze appearance and sunbaked hair.

Grey eyes caught his.

Ornamented by a winsome face and charming smile, those intelligent eyes took note of Lan Wangji's every detail.

"What have we here?"

The woman, Miss Li he supposes, gave the lissome man a respectful bow.

"Bái-daozhang here claims a desire to speak with you."

The beautiful face turns inquisitive.

"Bái-gege, what can this lowly man do for you?"

"Lan."

Lan Wangji is inwardly surprised at his sudden reply.

Eyebrows raise and the handsome man's eyes twinkle in delight

"Lan-gege, then."

Lan Wangji watches as wine-stained lips wrap around the syllables.

The flippant hand loosely brings the jar to his lips, chin tilted up, exposing the lewd column of his throat as it bobbed.

"What brings a respectable cultivator like Lan-gege to this Wuxian's hospitality?"

No one has ever spoken his name the way he did. Playful, warm and teasing. Flirtatious.

Lan Wangji would like to hear him speak it again.

Wei Wuxian leans forward as Lan Wangji explains.

Their gazes never waver from the other. It was as if they were the only two in the room.

[writeyouin]

LMK shadowpeach x foreign fem reader? Its readers first Christmas in China and wants to spend it with the monkeys! Got them a Christmas gift too that’s fitting for the three of them. For some cute fluff, she made some delicious treats from her home country (I probably would make them fry bread or fruit related sweets of the sort)

Sun Wukong X Macaque X Reader (Poly-Shadowpeach) – Chinese Christmas

A/N – So this went a myriad of ways in my head and I kept changing it, and now it’s super different to what I first thought was going to happen. Anyway, here’s the end result, and I got to do some cool research on Christmas in China which was really interesting.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

“Would you please calm down?” Macaque growled at Sun Wukong, annoyed since his partner was being more irksome than usual.

Granted, the pair had recently made up after all their years of fighting, but sometimes… Well, the Monkey King had a lot more energy than Macaque, and he wasted it in frivolous ways, always bouncing around and rarely bothering to stay still unless he was choosing to be inconvenient and lazy, in which case it was impossible to make him get up and do whatever was required of him.

Sun Wukong was equally displeased with Macaque, who didn’t seem to be taking his plight seriously.

“Calm down?” He wailed, his search continually frantic as he flew from mountain top to mountain top. “Who can calm down at a TIME LIKE THIS?! (Y/N)’s missing!”

Macaque rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to form. “They’re not missing, they’re probably just at their house or-”

“ON CHRISTMAS?” Sun jumped in front of Macaque, grabbing him by the shoulders and wrapping his tail tightly around the darker simian, “Not a chance! I planned everything for today. We were going to go ice skating, get some wrapped apples, sing karaoke, drink hot chocolate, go to that new noodle bar- There’s just no way (Y/N) would miss all that.”

“… Fine. If you must continue this inane search, could you use your gold vision and get it over with already?”

Sun raised a mischievous eyebrow and smirked, “And miss out on the fun of the search?”

Macaque sighed irritably, “You’re seriously having fun with this?”

“Well yeah. What’d be the point if I found (Y/N) immediately? It needs to be dramatic.”

With that, the Monkey King got back to his search, whilst Macaque stepped away to take a breather, and possibly to brood if the mood struck him; relationships were exhausting. As soon as he left Wukong, his sharp hearing picked up your voice at the bottom of the mountain.

“Shoot-” You said upon clearly dropping something.

Macaque smiled as a more forceful expletive followed, and listened more intently. Evidently, you were carrying something and your bag had split. He chuckled and took pity on you, waiting till you had recovered your items before casting out a shadow portal that brought you directly in front of him.

Having been ready to take a step that was no longer in front of you, you stumbled into Macaque’s open arms.

“You always trip,” He commented drily, “You think you’d be used to that by now.”

You smiled up at Macaque, pecking his cheek before replying, “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to that. You always do it when I least expect it.”

“Then you’ve got to learn to expect the unexpected.”

“If I did that, there would never be an unexpected event and my life would become oh so dull.”

Macaque began a witty retort, but he was drowned out by Wukong who hurried over to meet you, crushing you in a hug, clingy as ever. Whenever you were around, there was hardly a moment wherein he wasn’t holding onto you in some manner.

“Peaches!” He exclaimed joyfully, using your affectionately awarded nickname, “I knew you wouldn’t abandon us on Christmas. Where were you? You’ve already wasted half the day.”

“It’s only ten,” You protested.

“Yeah, well I would’ve been there for you at six if we were meeting at your place.”

That was a lie. If it was up to Sun Wukong to come to you, you knew that Macaque would have to drag him out of bed and that it would take him hours to wake from his sleepy state.

“If I say I brought presents, will that make it up to you?” You held up your bag; Macaque smiled when he saw the knot you had tied in the bottom to patch the split.

Sun immediately pushed you away to snatch up the bag, though his tail remained wrapped around your wrist.

“Share,” You reminded him, bringing Macaque back into the loop.

“Can we open these now?” Sun asked, already tearing at the gold paper which marked the presents meant for him.

“Apparently so.”

Macaque was much gentler with his sliver foiled presents. You hadn’t bothered to write any cards or tags. You couldn’t read or write Chinese, and your simian companions were equally unskilled in your native language. Instead, it was easier to treat them like the sun and the moon and wrap their gifts accordingly.

There were some generic little presents at the top of the bag, but soon your loves got to the gifts you had spent months lovingly crafting. Shawls, knitwear, and repaired clothing that both of them had mourned when damaged in battle made the bulk of the gifts. In a second smaller bag were the presents you had made fresh the night before. They were treats you missed from home, sweet breads, pastries, sugared fruits, and brandy snaps.

“Oh yeah,” Sun Wukong bragged, taking the first bite of a cream-filled sugar cone, “We’re going to have a feast tonight.”

“If we make it to tonight alive with all you have planned,” Macaque stated drily, though he spared an affectionate pat to Wukong’s head.

“All you have planned?” You asked, uncertain as to what anyone could do on Christmas Day when everywhere was closed. Alas, you were thinking of home, which differed greatly from China in many ways, Christmas traditions being one of them.

“Well, duh.” Sun Wukong placed a hand proudly on his chest and stood in a heroic position atop a newly summoned cloud. “Do you really think that I, Sun Wukong, the Monkey King and Great Sage Equal to Heaven would have anything less than a perfect day planned for my two true loves?”

“Funny,” Macaque chuckled, tying his new shawl around his neck, “I thought your two true loves were sleeping and making Wukong Dating sims.”

“Oh yeah? And what about you? You only love puppets and being all dramatic and emo.”

“And I love it when my boys don’t argue,” You said, stepping between them before their little spat turned into a contest which would inevitably lead to a fight. Granted, the three of you were a throuple now, but Sun Wukong and Macaque still had a lot of bad blood and unresolved history; some days were more difficult than others when they were learning how to choose love and forgiveness over anger and spite.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Wukong grinned and held you to his side, throwing his free arm up as if physically showing you the day’s schedule while he listed everything off.

Macaque approached you and took your hand gently in his, “Is that all okay? It’s probably a lot different to where you come from.”

You smiled bittersweetly, thinking about all the traditions you would miss out on and how Christmas was more family-oriented where you were from.

“It’s- It’s different to what I’m used to, but… I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’m just happy to be with you two.”

At that, Sun Wukong softened. He stood in front of you, his tail curling around your waist, “Hey, we don’t have to do this if it’s too much. We can try your traditions if you want.”

“Next year,” You promised. “I want to see how you do things.”

Sun Wukong smiled at both you and Macaque. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He had spent far too long alone, and now he had two people he could spend the holidays with, and even more friends who you were all going to meet; he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[itsthislake]

Shen Yuan transmigrated as a Spirit Cat AU

Shen Yuan had only just finished processing the fact that he had reincarnated-slash-transmigrated at all after his death, never mind into a cat’s body, when he was forced to confront the equally insane reality that was this new world that he had ended up in.

A place that resembled ancient China, but where people didn’t bat an eye at seeing someone literally flying on a sword. A place where cultivation and immortality were very much real and attainable. A Xianxia world, basically. Like the setting for Proud Immortal Demon’s Way, the novel he had literally died cursing.

Shen Yuan had read enough novels in his life to, upon concluding this was in fact real and not just a very vivid hallucination, make the safe choice to send a very quick but genuinely heartfelt prayer to whatever deities were listening that he hadn’t somehow transmigrated into the world of Proud Immortal Demon’s Way.

God, he really hoped this wasn’t Proud Immortal Demon’s Way.

Anyway.

Getting used to being a cat after a lifetime of opposable thumbs and no tail wasn’t as hard as he imagined it’d be. His body seemed to know how to move even if he didn’t, and the new instincts and different senses were easy enough to get used to.

The hardest aspect of his new life was actually finding food, given how a vast majority of the people from the small village he’d woken up in seemed perfectly happy to ignore or even chase him out no matter how cute he acted. The rest were all small children, who at best could give him some sweets, and the two old ladies that lived a little up the hill and occasionally confused him for their own cat, Baobao.

So, naturally, he had taken to stealing from the bastards that annoyed him the most as a form of payback. They should’ve thought twice before throwing rocks at him if they didn’t want their food stolen. Shen Yuan had gotten pretty good at sneaking in and avoiding traps out of sheer pettiness in recent times.

…Perhaps he had gotten a little too good, actually.

Really, why else would the village chief decide to call for help catching him? Also! How could he have known they’d call a whole-ass cultivator to deal with him?! Wasn’t he just a normal (if smarter than average) cat?! Why were these people calling cultivators to deal with their day-to-day problems?! Wasn’t that just lazy?! Wasn’t it overkill?! What’s up with that?!

Shen Yuan hissed and attempted to scratch the hand that had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held him up in the air. The owner of the hand, a cultivator with a truly beautiful face, stared back at him utterly unimpressed.

“Stop that,” the cultivator said.

Shen Yuan hissed at him, but ultimately stopped struggling. He had given a good fight, even managing to scratch the man in the face before he was caught (something he was very proud of, despite the cultivator healing it with his qi almost immediately) but even he knew when to call it quits. He would just have to wait for the man to lower his guard before trying to escape again.

The cultivator huffed, then turned around to inform the village chief of his capture. Shen Yuan sullenly endured the whole song and dance, hissing at any bastard that looked too smug on the way. It was only as they were walking out of the village that the cultivator lifted Shen Yuan up to eye level and stared.

“How did a creature like you even end up in this place?” he suddenly asked, eyes narrowed with a level of suspicion that was, frankly, uncalled for. “Your kind isn’t from this area.”

What kind! What creature! He was just a normal cat! Shen Yuan had seen plenty of them around the village, had gotten into fights with old strays for some food more than once. He had convinced little Baobao to not attack him on sight even!

“I’m taking you back to my sect. Will you attack me if I try to hold you properly?”

Yes, Shen Yuan meowled viciously.

As if he understood anything, the cultivator nodded once and unsheathed his sword. Then he stood on it and took up flight holy fucking shit—

Shen Yuan made an alarmed sound, holding on for dear life the moment the cultivator moved him close to his chest. He sunk his claws deep on the silver robes, not wanting to find out if cats truly had nine lives in this world or if he’d survive a fall this high, and glared viciously at the man.

The cultivator had the gall to look amused.

 ---

The moment they landed, Shen Yuan wasted no time jumping away. Unfortunately, the man’s reflexes were faster than him and he managed to catch Shen Yuan before his paws could even graze the ground.

Shen Yuan meowled pitifully, turning big sad eyes that had occasionally gotten him free food in his direction. He even heard a number of young kids in the background stop and coo at him.

The man, apparently heartless, only raised an eyebrow.

Shen Yuan sighed and resigned himself to his fate for the foreseeable future. Settling down on the man’s arms (they were unexpectedly comfortable and warm, okay?), he watched idly as people hurried about, barely stopping to bow in the cultivator’s direction and glance curiously at Shen Yuan before continuing on their ways.

Eventually they reached what was definitely some kind of doctor’s office and the cultivator barged in like he owned the place. Shen Yuan could’ve believed that, if it weren’t for the real owner of the office looking up sharply from behind the cluttered desk at their entrance.

“Liu-shixiong!” The poor doctor looked genuinely startled, understandably so, as he reflexively stood up. He hadn’t even seemed to notice Shen Yuan yet. “How may this shidi help you?”

In response, the cultivator —Liu?— shifted Shen Yuan in his arm so he was more visible while still keeping a tight hold on him. Not like there was anywhere for him to run, mind you, seeing as all entrances to the office were firmly shut.

The doctor blinked and adjusted his glasses, peering closely at Shen Yuan.

“Is… that a Colored Claw Spirit Cat?” the doctor asked slowly, and for some reason he looked just as baffled as Shen Yuan abruptly felt.

Excuse me? I’m a what now?

“En,” the cultivator confirmed. “I found him terrorizing a village near Huan Hua Palace. With Lan Qingyi in seclusion, I thought you could give him a check-up.”

‘Terrorizing’ was too strong a word for what he’d been doing, in Shen Yuan’s honest opinion. He was only trying to eat! It was everyone else that overreacted to his presence! Also, Huan Hua Palace? Why did that sound familiar? Did he hear of it somewhere in the village?

“Hmm. I agree that Lan-shijie would be best for this. I don’t think anyone else at her peak has even seen a Colored Claw Spirit Cat in person before, given how rare they are,” the doctor agreed, rummaging through drawers for this and that. “Alright. Set him on the table, please. This shidi will see what he can do.”

“He’ll attack you,” the cultivator warned as he gently set him down on the table, one arm posed to catch him were he to try and get away. Shen Yuan stared at him deadpan. Again, there was nowhere for him to run unless someone were to open the door for him.

The doctor settled a couple of items down on the table next to him and smiled wearily at the cultivator.

“Ah, how much does shixiong know about Spirit Cats?”

“I know they have the capacity to cultivate a human form, as well as achieve immortality. Though it’s extremely rare.”

Shen Yuan… had not known any of that. In fact, up until a couple minutes ago, he was convinced he was just a normal cat. It’s not like he had any other frame of reference to work with here. All the little kids at the village called him a cat and rural villages from Xianxia worlds were hardly overflowing with mirrors. He couldn’t have possibly known if there was anything special about his appearance that gave him away as not-a-normal-cat.

But this… wasn’t this kind of cool actually? He could become an immortal master! And get back his human form! And have opposable thumbs again! God, did he miss those.

Unaware of Shen Yuan’s growing excitement, the doctor nodded at the cultivator’s words.

“Shixiong is correct. Furthermore, Spirit Cats tend to have a level of sentience on par with humans long before acquiring a human form themselves. One can usually tell their age just by how much they’re able to understand, since even young ones are somewhat intelligent. This one certainly seems to understand us just fine. Isn’t that right, esteemed spirit?”

Not expecting to be addressed so suddenly, or at all, Shen Yuan gave the doctor a somewhat startled meow, tail twitching.

“See? This one must be a teenager on the cusp of adulthood. His growth phase must not be long now.”

Growth phase? Shen Yuan wondered, then filed it away for later thought, alongside all that information about Spirit Cats.

The cultivator grunted, eyeing Shen Yuan for a moment before finally stepping back, seemingly deciding that Shen Yuan wasn’t about to run for the hills if he let down his guard. Shen Yuan, no longer worried about acting out of character for a normal cat, pointedly rolled his eyes at him.

An odd noise drew his gaze back to the doctor, who quickly schooled his expression back to a mask of pleasant neutrality.

“Esteemed spirit, this Mu Qingfang will examine you now and narrate what he is doing. Would that be acceptable?”

Shen Yuan meowed an affirmation, something about that sentence tickling at the back of his mind, and the doctor finally got started.

It was only a moment later that the realization hit him in full.

Mu Qingfang, a healer. ‘Liu-shixiong,’ who flew them all the way here and up a mountain. Even the off-handed mention of goddamn Huan Hua Palace.

Oh fuck.

He’s inside of Proud Immortal Demon’s Way.

---

Next Chapter.

[thedreamerstoryteller]

💛💛💛💛

[kcake555]

Ricky cake 🍰

zerobaseone

[lulublack90]

Prompt 2 - Faster

@wolfstarmicrofic August 2, word count 588

Previous part First Jegulus part

“There’s too many of them!” Remus wailed to Sirius as he struggled to get the orders written up and filled. Word had got out of how potent the special brew was and half the university campus was lined up down the street to get a cup. 

“We’re going to run out of coffee beans at this rate!” Sirius huffed as he dragged another 20kg bag back in from the back. “This was meant to last us a whole month, not just a day!” 

“Don’t complain, darling,” Effie cooed as she danced past him, arms stacked high with food orders. Sirius thanked various deities again that they’d concentrated more on the coffee and stuck with a simple menu of hot sandwiches and French pastries.

“Two more cheese toasties please, Dad!” James called through to the kitchen. 

“Right you are, son!” Monty yelled back. 

“We’re going to run out of cheese and bread as well!” Sirius groaned, flinging his head back before he gathered the six coffee orders Remus had just filled and started calling out names. 

He looked around the seating area and then at the door and realised there were a lot of people in a separate queue wanting to eat as well as get a coffee. 

“Okay team, new plan. James in the back is a box with takeaway bags and wrappers in it, go grab them!” He grabbed a newly vacant chair and stood on it. Bracketing his mouth with his hands, he yelled over the cacophony of voices. 

“Valued customers, if anyone is waiting for food and doesn’t want to wait for a table, we are now offering takeaway boxes. Please form a line by the potted plant and someone will be over to take your orders shortly.” It turned out that most of the customers were happy to get a takeaway instead of sitting in. He got Effie in the kitchen with Monty, and together they cracked the orders out faster than he could ever have expected. He kept up with the coffee orders behind Remus and James took the orders from the food side. 

When closing time came, they finished up the last few orders and Remus jumped over his counter to quickly lock the door and turn over the open sign. He came over to where Sirius was laid face down on the floor and sat beside him gently stroking his sweat-soaked curls away from his face.

“Cheese toastie and a cup of coffee?” Remus asked playfully. Sirius didn’t even raise his head, instead, he raised his middle finger. Remus burst out laughing and hauled Sirius up off the floor into his arms. 

“I hope it’s quieter tomorrow,” He groaned into Remus's chest as he nuzzled further in, seeking comfort.

“I’ve ordered Chinese food,” Monty declared as he walked through from the kitchen. 

“Yes, Dad!” James boomed excitedly. 

“Perfect choice, my love,” Effie said as she pecked a kiss on her husband's cheek.

“I love you guys so much,” Sirius was feeling quite overwhelmed by the generosity of his chosen family. 

“Yeah, yeah, hugs and kisses and all that, but this place is a disaster,” Remus poked him in the side. “I bet we can get it cleaned up before food comes.” So reluctantly they all got back to work cleaning everything, ready for the morning. They managed to get everything done before the smiling man on his moped turned up with their favourite dishes. They sat on the floor of the upstairs flat’s living room and tucked into a well-earned meal. 

Next part

[rocketqueen1989x]

My fav skater boy

[passions-and-pupils]

Do you think Sun Wukong burned spirit money for Macaque?

Do you think he ever did it for him during the journey?

Do you think he buried Macaques body with offerings and spirit objects?

Do you think he set up a small funeral or did he do it alone in shame?

Do you think he had a shrine up somewhere where he lit incense and candles for his fallen brother?

Do you think he tore it down after Macaque came back, cursing himself for being dumb enough to grieve someone he hated?

Do you think it’s still there, in some dark room, left untouched for centuries?

[caramel1mochi]

One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [1]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎ 

TW: Depression and implied suicidal thoughts (I swear it’s not all sad haha) ‎ ‎ 

Words: 4k ‎ 

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer. ‎ ‎ 

NOTES: 'Tis the season! Ha, I rushed to get this out before Christmas was over. Christmas is still going, right? Happy holidays!! ‎  Anyway, this story is HEAVILY reliant on flashbacks and the past in general, so keep that in mind. Have a good read! ‎ ‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Winter, one year ago.

 ‎ 

If there was one thing you loathed with every inch of your being, it would be the winter season. It was a season that was associated with only despair and heavily encouraged death. Both physically and mentally. The death of plants, the death of animals, the death of people, just death in general.

And you hated it. You hated the overwhelming feeling of melancholy that would loom over you whenever snow would fall.

Your arms rested on the ice cold metal railing that overlooked a mystifying lake, one that had gotten frozen over the past week. The thick sleeves of your hoodie blocked the freezing temperatures like dutiful guards surrounding a castle. This comfort, however, felt like a miniscule droplet in the ocean of despondency you felt.

A tired sigh escaped you. And like a furious dragon, a vapour of pure white billowed from your lips.

 ‎ 

“Disgusting.”

 ‎ 

You muttered under your breath whilst you looked at the ice. In the distance, you heard something crack, and it took you only a few seconds to spot where it was on the icy surface of the lake.

 ‎ 

“Look on the bright side, at least.”

 ‎ 

Yu, your boyfriend, piped up from your right. He rested on the railing just as you did, with his jacket protecting him. But his upright posture and bright purple eyes conveyed something you didn’t: joy.

 ‎ 

“Like what?”

 ‎ 

“Look around you, observe the snow.”

 ‎ 

He pointed to the blankets of snow that surrounded the forest around the bridge, each snowflake collectively gathered to envelop every tree your eyes laid on. Like a mother huddled with her children on a cold night. To him, the landscape looked like a stunning painting, one meticulously slaved over by an artist who desired perfection over all else.

 ‎ 

“Isn’t it breathtaking?”

 ‎ 

Maybe to him. But to you? All you saw were dead trees, shells of the beautiful bearers of fruit and life they once were. That wasn’t to mention the corpses of animals buried under the feet of snow he was so enamoured by.

You rested your head on your arms in silence.

 ‎ 

“It’s winter.”

 ‎ 

Two words. Curt, but enough to summarise the maelstrom of thoughts that roamed your mind.

And it’s not like he didn’t know, either. He did, which was why, despite his optimism, he also started dreading this season once you both started dating nearly five winters ago. Yu placed one hand on your shoulder, the wooden planks under him loudly creaking as he stepped closer to you. Then, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, the warmth from his body counteracting the one from the railings.

 ‎ 

“I understand.”

 ‎ 

For a moment, that was all he could say.

 ‎ 

“But… Y/N, you shouldn’t think about them every single day.”

 ‎ 

You shut your eyes and took in a deep, slow breath, allowing the cold air to be warmed on the way to your lungs.

As much as he denied it, and as stiff as his face was, Yu was incredibly expressive. Whenever he’d try to conceal how he felt, his body language simply betrayed him at every turn. He meant well, both of you knew that. Especially you. But Yu wasn’t exactly the best when it came to dealing with things like… this.

 ‎ 

“It’s difficult to get over them, Yu. It feels impossible.”

 ‎ 

Since Yu’s hands were gloved the whole way here, the slightly cold temperature of it didn’t bother you as much once his fingers intertwined with yours. Add on to the fact your hands were in your pockets, the warmth immediately cooled him down as he began gently outlining the lines on your palm with his thumb.

You lost your parents in one hazy winter. And every one after that would be a depressing reminder of that fact.

 ‎ 

“Every winter, I ask myself why I should keep going.”

 ‎ 

He paused.

 ‎ 

“What’s waiting for us at the end? Some silly award for putting up with this?”

 ‎ 

“Don’t say that. There’s more to life than baseless questions like that.”

 ‎ 

The white tint of the snow was bright. So bright, it began piercing your eyes, and you were forced to close them for a hint of relief.

  ‎ 

“What do you think?”

 ‎ 

You flipped the question on him, your words cutting through his benevolence like acid through a rotting cadaver.

Silence settled for a moment. Between it and the blankets of snow that surrounded you, you could hear Yu’s very pulse echo with each passing second. That, and how his lips parted. But for a moment, no words left his mouth, and he stayed quiet.

 ‎ 

“I… I don’t know.” He turned away. “I’m sorry. I don’t think about things like this.”

 ‎ 

It figures, you thought. Nevertheless, he began outlining the lines on your palm all over again, and the sound of the shuffling in your pocket as he did this started to stick out to you.

A few rapid clicks caught your attention. And once you lifted your head, you noticed a peculiar sight.

A bird had landed on the lake’s icy surface. Though it was a few dozen feet away from you, somehow, It felt as if all the sound waves were channelled in one direction just to reach you, and you could see it with clarity that would rival a telescope. With each step, you heard a loud click. And each time it pecked at the ice under it, you heard a little pick that accompanied it.

You wanted to ask why there was a bird here. Around this time, they’d usually disappear and leave the grey sky more dreary and lifeless than it ever could be. So… why?

You diligently watched it stretch its stunning wings, shades of blue reflecting off of the sunlight and complementing each other. Somehow, it spawned various new shades on its wings. Like ballet dancers, the colours played off each other's movements gracefully.

You lifted a hand and pointed at the bird.

 ‎ 

“It looks just like you.”

 ‎ 

Yu stopped to get a glance at what you were looking at. Then, he chuckled.

 ‎ 

“You think every bird looks like me, Y/N.”

 ‎ 

“I...”

 ‎ 

Your words were interrupted once the bird’s feathers reached outwards. For a moment, it puffed and formed a fluffy ball of white, blue and black, before it rapidly shook its head and relaxed all over again.

 ‎ 

“There. Did you see that?”

 ‎ 

“See what?”

 ‎ 

“It puffed up.” You met his gaze. “It looked just like you whenever you’d wake up.”

 ‎ 

Even on the hottest days of summer, Yu would have at least three blankets wrapped around him whilst he slept. That wasn’t to mention how messy his hair would be whenever you had the pleasure of catching him in this way. Yu grinned, pulling you closer as you both watched the bird for a few seconds.

A few short-lived seconds, until it flew away and disappeared into the clouds, cutting the enjoyable moment short.

But before melancholy would dare set in once more, Yu immediately turned to meet your gaze, his purple eyes glimmering under the bright winter sky. Just like the bird’s wings, the colours mixed with each other in a captivating manner.

 ‎ 

“How about we go home and watch a movie? I’ll even make you hot chocolate. What do you say?”

 ‎ 

“Movie?”

 ‎ 

A moment of silence settled.

But just as Yu thought he failed in his endeavour to cheer you up, all of his doubts evaporate once he saw a smile form. The sensation of such a move, though weak, still felt foreign to your face.

 ‎ 

“Can we take the movie out of the equation?” 

 ‎ 

…

 ‎ 

“Definitely.” 

‎ 

Before another word could be uttered, he suddenly pulled you much closer, trapping you in a warm embrace. And you couldn’t help but grin at such an unexpected yet sweet move.

‎ 

“Yu, we’re in public.”

‎ 

“You don’t know how much I missed your smile, Y/N.”

‎ 

“Be reasonable. It couldn’t have been that long.”

‎ 

You said, your words muffled as he had your face pressed up against the inside of his jacket. Your arms were wrapped around him to allow the heat to pass on over to you.

‎ 

“It has.” He muttered. “Longer than you think.”

‎  

The pleasant fragrance of lemons entered your nostrils. Familiar, especially since it was the only type of musk Yu ever sought after. Other than yours, of course.

‎ 

❤ฺ·。

Winter, present day.

‎ 

You hadn’t seen or spoken to Yu once the week after that conversation. He didn’t answer his phone, and, like you, none of his acquaintances knew where he went. Even with the police alerted, he was still legally considered missing.

On your way to work that dreadful morning, you’ve had your eyes stuck on your phone the whole time you walked down that repetitive path. You were calling Yu for the umpteenth time in hopes that he’d miraculously answer. But just as expected, your call was sent to voicemail again.

He was gone.

And you didn’t shed a tear. Not that you didn’t care, quite the contrary, in fact. You lost a ton of people. He was just another added to the list.

With a deep sigh, you pocketed your phone and looked up at the sky, a group of clouds concealing its previously blue colour thanks to the season. White and pale, just like bones.

‎ 

Your fingers wrapped around the cold golden handle. And with one swift push accompanied by a cheerful ding of the bell above you, you’d entered the café you worked at. The warmth hit you like a slap in the face once you’d fully entered the café. The boring music inside, and not to mention the decor you were borderline sick of seeing every day.

Your boss, Ying, and another one of your co-workers were chatting behind the counter. But your entrance immediately halted the conversation and shifted their attention towards you.

‎ 

“There you are! I was getting worried.”

‎ 

“Hi.”

‎ 

Ying earned a boring greeting from you. Just like every other day. And just as you turned back to the counter, you were suddenly pulled into a tight hug.

‎ 

“Y/N, how have you been? Here– would you like me to make you something?”

‎ 

She pulled away and held your shoulders in hopes of catching a change in your expression this time, but there was naught.

Ying, despite being your boss, had been treating you like her daughter for the longest time. And with Yu’s disappearance, her treatment was laced with worry and an overwhelming desire to tend to your needs. But every time, she’d earn the same response accompanied by the same vacant look on your face.

‎ 

“I’d like to clock in.”

‎ 

“Would you like to take the day off instead? Take a moment to catch yourself?”

‎ 

Though you had no circles under your eyes or any other noticeable blotches, she still noted the subtle gaunt look on your face. Pale, lifeless skin, and that wasn’t to mention the dull heaviness in your pitch black irises. A massive contrast to Yu, whose very presence brought life to any location lucky enough to bear his presence.

You shook your head.

A sigh escaped her and her gaze turned to the ground for a moment. Then, an idea popped up.

‎ 

“How about some passion fruit juice? We still have some in stock from yesterday.”

‎ 

Ying said with that kind smile as she looked back up at you. It almost widened to a full-blown grin once your lids slightly lifted at this random offer. Passion fruit was your favourite. And she remembered, even though you mentioned it offhandedly many winters ago.

You still shook your head.

‎ 

“I’m not too fond of the artificial flavour.” You held her wrists and put her hands down. “Thank you, nonetheless.”

‎ 

It took you only two seconds to walk away from Ying’s benevolent aura and move behind the counter where the sickening one lay. The very creaks of the floorboards and the ticking of the machines churned your stomach.

‎ ‎ 

“I’m leaving. You need any help in here?”

‎ 

Your co-worker exclaimed, earning the same response you gave Ying twice. And with that, he immediately tossed the towel on the counter and walked out, leaving your boss in the awkward position of asking the same question.

‎ 

“Y/N?”

‎ 

“I’ll be okay.” 

‎ 

Juxtaposed to the loud slam emitted from the door once your co-worker left, as if to announce his departure, for Ying, it was a gentle woosh of the wind, followed by a click once she’d closed the wooden door. You didn’t even realise she left until you lazily glanced at the exit for a moment, then turned to the task at hand.

‎ 

You grabbed the towel and began wiping the counters. The hum of the refrigerators around you remained as the only thing that broke the heavy silence that encapsulated the small café.

Everyday was the same routine. Wake up, go to work, go home and wait for sleep. At this point, the only thing amiss today was Ying’s offer to make you passion fruit juice. A delightful offer, but the juice here was artificial sugar. If anyone would know that, it was you.

You jumped once you felt a hand on your shoulder, looking over to see Ying.

‎ 

“Oh, Ying, I– I assumed you left.”

‎ 

“No, I merely closed the door.”

‎ 

Your pupils dilated as you took in her soft features once more. But before you could allow this conversation to blossom, you turned away and continued wiping the counters.

‎ 

“Y/N, are you okay?”

‎ 

“What makes you think otherwise?”

‎ 

“Every day, you look more and more like a zombie. I… I cannot help but worry every second you’re not with me.”

‎ 

With a loud clunk, you set down one of the cups on the marble counter and stared at the wet towel in your hand, its temperature combining with the one around you to freeze your bare hand. But that didn’t matter to you. There was only one thing that caught your eye; its colour.

Purple.

A deep sigh escaped you, but you didn’t dare lift your chin to look at your boss.

‎ 

“When are we opening?”

‎ 

Ying held herself and watched you continue working.

‎ 

“Please, just speak to me. I fear the day you won’t walk through that door, and I feel as though it’s coming very soon.”

‎ 

“Enough with the fear mongering. I just don’t want to talk, okay? I don’t even want to look at you.”

‎ 

She opened her mouth, but the words were lodged in her throat. Clearly, though those words escaped you without second thought, Ying was still taken by surprise.

You needed to act fast.

‎ 

“Everything reminds me of them, Ying. And you remind me of him now. More than ever.”

‎ 

“I… I understand. What you’re going through is horrible, nobody deserves to experience anything like this. But, Y/N, please,” she cupped your cheeks in her hands, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

‎ 

You were forced to look up at the tall woman to even meet her gaze. And that, you hated. You hated how her features somewhat matched Yu’s. The more you scrutinised her, the more similarities you found. Their nose, lips, their height, and the way their silky black hair framed their face. Hell, even their soft voices matched.

‎ 

“You haven’t eaten breakfast today, have you?”

‎ 

Her amiable voice suddenly took on an incredibly stern tone, one alien to someone like her. And to say you were caught off-guard would be a massive understatement.

‎ 

“Pardon?”

‎ 

“You’re pale. Your blood pressure is low.”

‎ 

“Pressure…?”

‎ 

You watched Ying immediately pull away and rush towards the fridge, a gust of cold air hitting you like a whip. On another note, it was winter. Why the hell was the fridge still on?

‎ 

“Ah, I meant sugar, Your blood sugar. We need to get you something to drink!”

‎ 

You eyed the passion fruit juice she took out of the fridge, golden fluid swirling inside in a hypnotising manner. And with a slam of the fridge’s door, its movements grew more rapid and dramatic. Then, you met her gaze with a vacant expression.

‎ 

“Ying, I’m fine.”

‎ 

"For the love of God, please accept some help and get your sugar back up. Just this once, at least!"

‎ 

She desperately held out the juice for you. And, although you were incredibly reluctant, you gave in and grabbed it from her.

‎ 

“Fine, but if I’m going to drink juice, I might as well make it myself.”

‎ 

Ying’s eyes bore into yours whilst you twisted the green plastic cap. Then, a particularly contagious smile lifted her pink lips. That statement must’ve evoked something within her.

‎ 

“Do you still remember how?”

‎ 

“What? Of course I do–”

‎ 

“Wonderful! Then I’ll take out everything you need.”

‎ 

She lit up and trotted over to a nearby counter, her large black ponytail swaying with each step. Ying immediately bent down and took out a few dusty slick grey boxes from inside, but your eyes were only focused on the dust that fell to the ground with every box she took out.

A mess you’d have to mop up.

Nevertheless, you took a sip and immediately grimaced at the unnatural flavour.

‎ 

“I bought a container of passion fruit yesterday, but I was afraid you’d be offended had I asked you to make some again.”

‎ 

"Why would I be offended by that?"

‎ 

With a huff and a loud thud, she slid out the blender’s box onto the ground. Then, she fixed her posture and grabbed it on both sides, ready to lift it.

‎ 

“I did not wish to pressure you into making this again. I understand your circumstances, however…” she lifted the box and set it on the counter, meeting your gaze with a smile, “your products are very addictive!”

‎ 

You took another sip in silence and set the drink next to the cash register, before moving to the fridge to take out the container of passion fruit.

‎ 

“Do you need any help with those?”

‎ 

You shook your head and took out a spoon and a bowl. It didn’t take long for her to catch on to what you were trying to do, clasping her hands together nervously.

‎ 

“Are you going to wash and scoop all those seeds? Alone?”

‎ 

“Are there people outside?”

‎ 

She glanced at the wooden double doors. If the massive windows on the walls weren’t enough, the doors allowed an even wider view of the sidewalk outside. Thankfully, the snow didn’t obscure much of her vision, either.

‎ 

“Ah… No, not quite. This morning is as idle as the others.”

‎ 

“Then I’ll do it.”

‎ 

She smiled and nodded.

‎ 

“I admire your patience.”

‎ 

That was all she said before she turned to unbox the blender. Thankfully, she let the silence in the air settle and allowed you to work alone. At this point, the conversation already grew exhausting enough. You couldn’t be bothered to say another word.

‎ 

❤ฺ·。

‎ 

Winter, three years ago.

‎ 

At first, it started out a chivalrous act.

One day, Yu, your co-worker at the time, randomly offered to escort you to and back from work with a peculiarly red set of cheeks. You said yes. Not that you needed the protection. And quite frankly, looking back, it was clearly a thin veiled attempt for him to get close to you; but you still entertained the offer and walked with him. It quickly became a day to day thing.

First, you’d see him by the gates every morning and head to the café.

Afterwards, once you both went back, you’d part ways at said gate. He’d go to the bus to return to his house, and you’d go up to your apartment. But after you started dating, he started sleeping over. Then, he began spending more time in your cramped home instead of his lavish abode.

Then… Well, to say he simply ‘took over’ would be an understatement.

‎ 

Once the both of you had arrived at the entrance that would lead to your dwelling, you took off the earbud and handed it back to Yu, promptly pushing the thick door to your apartment open. Back then, whenever you’d enter, the gust of air that enfolded you used to have a… melancholic feel to it. 

Now, it was anything but.

‎ 

“Every day you visit, this place looks less and less like the house I live in.”

‎ 

You randomly commented, not bothering to glance at him as you spoke. An audible creak echoed through the small area. Then, with a loud flick, the lights switched open and allowed the comfort of familiarity to finally envelope each of you.

‎ 

“How do you mean?”

‎ 

“Look around. Look at what you’ve done to my home.”

‎ 

You haphazardly gestured around you whilst turning on more lights. And it was only after a moment of confused silence did he finally respond to your comment.

‎ 

“I’m not following.”

‎ 

You turned around, and both of your eyes bore into each others’. Judging by the blank expression he carried, he truly looked lost. So… you’d show him.

You held his hand and guided him down the entrance hall towards the living room, and pointed at the couch that faced the television mounted on the wall. Just looking at it proved your point, seeing how it was covered with blankets.

‎ 

“Two blankets,” you then pointed at the armchair on the corner where another one sat, “three,” the other armchair, “four,” the heaters, “and five.”

‎ 

You turned to face him with crossed arms. 

‎ 

“And the three on my bed.”

‎ 

By the time you finished pointing everything out, both of you had stopped at the doorway that led to the corridor. He knew by the way you pursed your lips; you definitely weren’t done yet.

You took a deep inhale, finally taking in the air that lingered around you like a lovesick ex.

‎ 

“It smells like the inside of a lemon, as well.”

‎ 

Yu smiled politely once you had finalised your sentiment. Sure, your tone was dry, but he wasn’t insulted. In fact, judging by his upright posture, he seemed quite proud of how he unwittingly changed up the place.

‎ 

“I... hear you. On another note, it's been three years and I still haven’t gotten to the balcony yet.”

You raised an eyebrow. He just couldn’t be subtle even if his life depended on it.

‎ 

“I’m not giving you the keys to the balcony, Yu.”

‎ 

“Just a peek?”

‎ 

You turned away and began taking off the heavy jacket you wore, earning a particularly endearing huff from him. The shadows on the ground let you know he crossed his arms and turned his gaze away to the living room. Probably eyeing the blankets on the couch you pointed out just a few minutes ago.

He muttered something under his breath. But before you could ask him what it was, he immediately moved over to the couch. Huh. Your hypothesis was correct.

‎ 

Not paying him any mind, you began slipping off your boots and taking off the hair tie that started to give you a headache.

Then, your eyes widened once you heard a distant spray. You immediately turned around.

“Yu, we don’t need anymore–”

‎ 

The words were lodged in your throat once you realised he wasn’t spraying the room with his lemon mister again. He wasn’t doing that at all, no. Instead, he was misting the potted plant set in the corner of the living room. Holes lay in the edges of its dull leaves. And thanks to the weak sunlight that bled through the windows, you could see that the soil was dangerously dry, as well.

You stepped up solemnly, watching him mist it.

‎ 

“How long has it been since you last watered this?”

‎ 

Judging by the curious tone, you knew that he wasn’t mocking you. He just wasn’t as knowledgeable as you were when it came to plants. You nervously clenched your fists and turned your gaze away, eyes landing on the dark vinyl flooring.

‎ 

“I… must have forgotten about it.”

‎ 

Of course you did. It was a miracle you even slipped out of bed every morning, let alone take care of something like this.

A gentle pat on your shoulder snapped you out of your maelstrom of thoughts, and you hesitantly looked up to meet his gentle gaze.

“That’s okay. You were busy.” He chuckled. “It’s probably why the smell of lemons is so strong, right?”

‎ 

You playfully flicked his forehead with a vacant expression, before grabbing the mister from his hands and aiming it at the plant. That’s one incentive for you to take care of the plant, that’s for sure. Oh, but you’d never tell him that.

Nevertheless, you continued misting. And spraying water on it felt so… weird.

But also relieving.

[greentrickster]

For the Great God Airplane AU, was thinking about the first (mortal) person to find the God of the Ninth Road (formerly known as Shen Qingqiu), because thought exercises are fun, and here's what I came up with:

The first person to find the Ninth Road is a girl, just on the verge of becoming a woman, with blood on her shirt and a gash on her left cheek that's going to heal poorly, and which is the source of part of the blood.

Only part though, because the Mistress miscalculated with her. She'd been sloppy, smiled when the Mistress was looking, accidentally revealed that she's growing up pretty. And the Mistress can't stand girls who grow up pretty in her household, always makes sure those beautiful, sharp rings she always wears cut enough of the prettiness away that no one ever notices again. But the Mistress is growing old and misjudged her aim, cut her own knuckles on Fenhua's teeth.

And it wasn't her fault (it's never the fault of the girls), but Fenhua knew enough to know that the Mistress would make it her fault, so she did what she'd never dared to do before.

She ran.

She ran and she didn't stop, not for anything, not for anyone, she doesn't know how she made it through the house and the estate and the town without being grabbed, it's all a blur, but she did. She did, because anywhere was better than there, and now she's in the mountains, far and high enough up that she can see the town below her in the distance from where she stands at the road's fork. It's cool and misty for this time of year, and it's growing dark. Her cheek is on fire, her feet are blistered, she doesn't know what she's going to do next.

Or, she knows what she should do next, but... she can't.

She should go back, because she's seen open wounds like hers go bad, she's seen what happens, but she can't- she can't go back, she can't she can't she can't, please, someone, anyone, help her, help her escape, she can't go back-

And almost without thinking, she turns her back on the town, approaches the fork in the road, and takes the branching path, the one further into the mountains, further away from town.

There is a man standing there.

He is tall, with fine silk robes of white and grey that almost trail into the mist at their edges, with ink black hair and eyes green as the envy in his heart for all those born to better lives than him. She's never seen anything so beautiful, so dangerous, and she stops well out of arm's reach (as if that would stop him, cultivator or ghost or spirit that he probably is)-

...she gets the feeling he approves of her caution. Caution that somehow doesn't stop her reaching back when he offers her his hand. Because he is great and he is terrible and she knows, knows, in the marrow of her bones that he will not hurt her.

So she ignores the warning signs, and she takes his hand. Follows as he leads her further down the road, deeper into the misty darkness of the bamboo on the mountain, away from everything she's ever been or known.

"Who are you?" she asks eventually.

"A little late to be asking."

"Late is better than never."

He makes an inelegant sound, like she's been amusing and it annoys him. "I am the God of the Ninth Road."

"...I've never heard of you."

"I'm new," he sniffs.

It occurs to her, then, that while talking feels different than it ever has before, and while itchy, her face is no longer on fire. Her free hand discovers dried blood and a thick scar when it quests up, and the God of the Ninth Road suddenly seems to be actively not looking at her, instead of merely looking to the path ahead.

"I'm no doctor. If you had wanted it pretty, you should have called a healing god instead."

His curt tone annoys her, enough that she stops walking to glare. "I didn't call any gods."

Instead of continuing and dragging her with him (as she had half thought he would, as any other she has ever seen dressed as finely as him would have), he stops and turns to look at her. "You called me when you stepped onto the ninth road, begging for someone to take you away." he starts walking again, and she goes with him, "So here I am, taking you away."

"Oh." they continue in their former silence. Her feet don't hurt anymore, and somewhere along the way the mist in the bamboo turned to sunlight, and the god's silks from tatter-coloured grey-white to pale green accented with gold. It occurs to her that, wherever they are going, they're probably getting close, and there are things she still has to say before they do. "Thank-you."

"For what?"

"Healing my face."

He's purposefully not looking at her again. "Why? It's ugly."

"Ugly's better than bleeding, or rotting."

"Hmph."

"And thank-you for taking me away."

This time he's the one to stop, brows furrowed. "You don't even know where I'm taking you. It could be someplace worse, you weren't specific in your prayers."

"It could..." she replies slowly, tasting the words as she says them, "But... I don't think it will be. I don't think you'll take me to someone like the Mistress, because," and the curl of his lip at mention of the woman who scarred her gives her the certainty to finish, "Because you hate them. You hate people like her."

"...more than you will ever know." he admits after a moment's silence. Then, as they begin to walk again, "You should have been given 'min' [敏] instead of 'fen' [芬]."

The bamboo ends before she can reply. They're in the mouth of an alleyway, facing a laundry house, and the God of the Ninth Road turns to her with great seriousness.

"Before the end of the next sichen, a man will come out of that building. If you want a better life, offer your services to him and work hard. In three days, you will be given a stained robe of red silk to wash with a torn seam. Clean the stain then, when everyone is sleeping that night, get up and mend the tear. When the owner asks who did it, confess."

He lets go of her hand before she can respond, and she is alone in the alleyway, dressed as a relatively respectable street girl rather than in her maid's uniform. The God of the Ninth Road has taken his leave of her.

When a man emerges from the laundry house, cursing all the gods in the heavens for leaving him short-handed on such a busy day, she steps forward and offers to wash in exchange for food and a place to sleep that night. The laundry man is apparently too desperate to question his luck, and in three days, she washes and then mends a red silk robe as the god had instructed. And when the robe's owner bursts into the laundry, face as red as his robe, demanding to know who dared to ply their needle to his clothes, she dries her hands on her thighs and stands. "This one did."

He scowls, squinting at her. "And who are you?"

"This one is known as Minhua." Maybe it's a strange name, but she'd rather be a clever flower than a fragrant one anyway.

"Minhua, eh? You're wasted here. Come work for me instead."

The man is Master Zhang, the finest tailor in the city, and she has impressed him with her stitching.

In ten years' time, as a creator-god is being cried on by one of his Heavenly Officials, Minhua will have become Master Zhang's top apprentice. By the time twenty have passed, she will be a master in her own right, able to choose her own clients. The first coin she receives for her work goes to incense, offered in thanks to the God of the Ninth Road, and hers is the first story in his tale.

The first, but oh, dear listener, far, far from the last...