#or is it xu now. does she have anything to say for herself. she dragged me into jjk so cruelly and unjustly oh my god.

[aquickstart]

i promise u guys saltburn content will be coming yet in the near future i promise u (and myself) but for now it's just me and my ryomen sukuna lockscreen against the world

[skullsandwineglasses]

Arsenal Military Academy (2019) Full Review

My first impressions of episodes 1-13 can be found here. I think I was a little dubious at first, but now that I’ve finished the drama, I have to say that I really enjoyed it. This is going to be a short(ish) review because I just don’t have much to complain about. [SPOILERS AHEAD]

The Leads

Xu Kai shines as Gu Yanzhen. Much more than he did as Mo Qing in The Legends. Gu Yanzhen is just such a fun character. While yes, he is an overgrown and spoiled rich kid, he has a great character arc. He learns how to be responsible, caring, devoted, and considerate. Whether it’s love or serving his country, once he’s devoted to something, he’ll put his whole heart into it, which makes him a great friend and leader. And despite his maturation and all that he’s been through, he still stays cheeky and playful until the end. 

That’s what I really like about this drama. It’s consistent. Both in terms of plot and character. And for cdramas, consistency is something that’s often butchered. This drama is 48 episodes long, which was perfect for developing all the plot points in the story. At first I was worried about the length. But the plot is so well-paced. There was no filler, and if there was, then I didn’t even noticed because I enjoyed all of the scenes and interactions between the characters. 

Bai Lu was great at switching between cross-dressing as her brother, and being her “true” self. She carried off being both masculine and feminine, and I enjoyed seeing these two sides of her character. What I also appreciated about this drama is how even when she is revealed to be a girl, nothing really changes in terms of how she acts or how she’s treated by others. Her classmates still call her by her brother’s name. She wears the same clothes, talks the same, walks the same. Of course, by that point, most people have already found out, but for the characters who haven’t found out yet, they don’t dwell on this revelation. They don’t say sexist things about her appearance or mannerisms. They treat her the same as they always have. At first, I was worried that the drama would have a dramatic plot shift after her identity is officially revealed, but there wasn’t a shift. Her reveal was actually not that big of a plot point. (Yes, she was put in prison and accused of killing the chief, but this was resolved in like 2-3 episodes). It blended in seamless with the rest of the plot, and there were bigger issues in the story to address. 

In my First Impressions review, I complained that Xie Xiang was a bit of a flat character. I still think she’s a little underwhelming in comparison to some of the other characters in the drama, but she was watchable and relatable, and she definitely grew on me more as the drama went on. I also applaud her for recognizing her feelings for Gu Yanzhen (I was worried that the drama would make her be conflicted between them), but she did frustrate me a little with how she couldn’t be upfront with Shen Junshan and just strung him along. 

Again, I liked seeing the different sides of her character. Xie Xiang was never a tomboy growing up. She likes theatre and the arts. She likes acting, dancing, and singing. She likes dressing up and accessorizing (when appropriate). Her best friend, Tan Xiao Jun, acts as a foil and shows us what Xie Xiang is really like (or used to be before joining the academy). But her brother was a huge influence and inspiration for her. She learned how to fight from him. She learned what is means to be righteous and fight for justice from him. But she doesn’t want to become him; she just wants to fulfill his dreams. In the academy, she isn’t the best student, nor does she want to be. She doesn’t want to compete with the others, but she just wants to best the best cadet that she can be. It’s all about challenging herself and pushing her own limits, not comparing herself to everyone else in the class.  

Supporting Characters

All of the secondary characters are great. Side characters and villains all served a unique purpose. Villains, such as Jin Xin Rong and the bully in the academy, were sympathetic characters. They all had their own backstories and development arcs, but they didn’t detract from the focus on the leads. In fact, the drama never strayed from the leads, unlike some cdramas were sometimes the focus would move away from the protagonists as the drama dragged on. Importantly, all the subplots were interwoven, and each mission that they completed progressed the plot and developed character relationships. I had a lot of praise for Qu Manting in my First Impressions review, so I won’t go into it again here, but she was a great second female lead (even though I did wish that she had less scenes with Gu Yanzhen). I was also surprised that she’s my age (and also Xu Kai’s age). She’s such a mature and steady actor. 

Edit: Just found out that Toby Lee who played Shen Junshan was the guy in Soulmate?? Didn’t recognize him at all. 

Plot

I loved the humour in this drama. It was quick, witty, and smart. But the drama did take a serious turn in the last arc where there were deaths of 3 prominent supporting characters, which was really surprising. I thought the drama would be a light-hearted comedy all the way through. So when I saw that it was possible for a prominent supporting character to die, I realized that there could be some real and serious consequences for characters in the drama. 

Speaking of deaths, I was also surprised by the amount of violence and liberal killing in the drama. The cadets at the academy never hesitated to kill, and murdering people never affected them. The writers justified the deaths by dismissing the victims as being traitors to the country, whether they were just a driver or security guard for the Japanese or a Japanese nurse or doctor. If they were affiliated with the Japanese and got in the way of a mission, then the leads would kill them. At times it felt like a video game because the cadets would use so much gunpowder to just plow through anyone who was an inconvenience to the mission. The drama also really advocates revenge, which was also really shocking. Revenge can be engaging to watch when it’s fictional, but I don’t morally agree with revenge, so I was surprised that a drama with so much killing and a revenge fetish was allowed to get past censorship. 

Overall, the plot was really good. The drama rarely ever dragged, except for maybe episodes 22-26 where it felt like Gu Yanzhen didn’t really have anything to do with the main plot, but the drama recovers quickly after that. Episodes 16 and 31 are probably my favourite in terms of interactions between the ML and FL. 17-22 are when they’re separated and bond with the supporting leads instead. That was clearly a purposeful move by the writers. They gave us peak sweetness between the leads and then separated them immediately afterwards. Those episodes made me worry that they would be angst, but there wasn’t. Those episodes showed that even when the leads were separated and went through hardships with someone else, they still thought about each other. Again, another example of how every mission progresses the plot and develops character. 

In terms of the romantic plot, I would say that about three quarters of the drama is about characters liking people who don’t like them back, and what you get is a convoluted love rectangle that expands to a pentagon. What I like about Gu Yanzhen is that while he can be childish and obnoxious, he gives Xie Xiang a lot of space. There were some scenes when either Huang Song or Shen Junshan was trying to pursue her and I was like, why isn’t Gu Yanzhen here to intervene? But then I realize that it’s actually good that he isn’t constantly stalking her. Gu Yanzhen may seem possessive at the academy, but he doesn’t prevent her from doing things either on or off campus. On the other hand, when Shen Junshan figures out Xie Xiang’s true identity, he acts entitled to her to the point where it feels manipulative. He would tell Xie Liang Chen that he’s meeting Xie Xiang for lunch, knowing that this would prompt Xie Xiang to dress up and rush off campus to meet him. He changed her room without asking her first, saying it was for her own good. I might have to rewatch the earlier episodes, but I don’t think Gu Yanzhen ever used her secret to underhandedly leverage power against her like that. I don’t think he ever tried to “test” her. It was only after she found out that he knew when he started to teasingly blackmail her with her secret in order to get her to wash his clothes or be nice to him, but this was done upfront to her face, so she knows what she’s dealing with. And also despite being constantly annoyed by him, Xie Xiang feels very comfortable with him. She trusts him. She knows that no matter what, he would never share her secret, so she was able to be herself with him from the beginning. In contrast, there was always a distance and formality between Xie Xiang and Shen Junshan, even though they went through a lot together.

The bigger question is why Gu Yanzhen fell for Xie Xiang instead of Qu Manting. I think it has to do with how Gu Yanzhen likes who he is whenever he’s with Xie Xiang. Manting is too much like his playboy self, so it always feels like he’s putting on an act or playing a game when he’s with her. They clash too much and both have huge egos, even though Manting has done so much for him and has seen him at his most vulnerable. But Xie Xiang is someone whom he wants to unconditionally protect and support. He teases and flirts with her, knowing that he’ll get a scolding and a beating. He wants to expend energy with Xie Xiang, but is fatigued with Manting. Xie Xiang is simple, down-to-earth, and has a purpose. She’s everything he isn’t. She anchors him, while he gets her to open and loosen up in what is otherwise a threatening and uptight environment. A classic example of how opposites attract. 

The Ending

The main character of this drama is the academy. Go figure since that’s the drama’s name. So it made sense that the final shot would be of the academy. Gu Yanzhen and Xie Xiang are shown walking off into the sunset just before that. And while I was really curious to see what their life would be like beyond the academy (I mean, what skills do they even have besides military prowess? What are they even going to do in terms of careers?), it made sense that the last shot we see of them is them leaving the academy. Their future is left to the imagination, almost like a fairy tale. That’s because their story is only one of many that comes out the academy. Their future is uncertain, but the future of the academy is certain. The academy is like a beacon, and it will continue to be here even long after the leads are gone. 

The deaths of Huang Song and Instructor Guo were just tragic. Huang Song never got to find out Xie Xiang’s true identity despite being her closest friend, and he had such a bright future and so many goals. Instructor Guo, who spent the last 2 decades in depression, never got to have his happily ever after. Li Wen Zhong finally redeemed himself, and yet the writers had him sacrifice himself. I thought their deaths were needless, but I did see how their deaths had narrative purpose. It still really, really sucks though.

I think I’ll give this drama an 8.5/10 if not a 9/10. It’s been a while since I last watched a drama with consistent pacing. Wish I could watch this drama for the first time again. 

Going to end the review with some pictures. 

The worldbuilding was really immersive thanks to the costumes, colour grading, OST, and set designs. 

Look at the power stances of this ensemble cast. They’re unstoppable. 

I can’t get over these two. Such a different dynamic from The Legends, but still so much chemistry. 

And deleted scenes though!! I don’t remember this sit-up scene in the drama. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8 -

A small group of sects unexpectedly announced that they wanted Wen Ruohan to adjudicate a boundary line dispute – some were affiliated with the Jiang sect, others with the Jin, and they wanted a neutral party. Wen Ruohan was pleased, even smug, that they had chosen him rather than the Lan sect, which with its righteous reputation was more typically called upon to mediate for the other sects.

“Maybe none of them have a good argument,” Nie Huaisang mused. “They’re all awful, and they want someone more self-absorbed than either side to broker something out.”

“Not everyone is awful, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, tucking the blankets around him. “Most people are good. Besides, there are some pretty renowned sects involved, so even if it’s true, you shouldn’t say it.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “But da-ge –”

“Time for medicine,” Nie Mingjue said firmly, and lifted the bowl to his lips.

Nie Huaisang had a mild case of food poisoning, causing a stomachache, vomiting and a low-grade fever – Wen Qing had determined that it wasn’t infectious, but also, rather grimly, figured out that the source of the illness was most likely a particular treat that Nie Huaisang had generously shared with both her and Wen Chao, and sure enough they were both bedridden less than a day later. Luckily, Wen Qing had had enough time to boil the base for the medicine they needed, and while he wasn’t at her level, much less the now-absent Wen Ning’s, even Nie Mingjue could follow directions well enough to add the final ingredients right before serving.

(Even Wen Zhuliu, who remained Wen Chao’s bodyguard despite their best efforts, had fallen ill, except his version had been significantly worse – more or less non-stop emissions out both ends, and out of self-preservation Nie Mingjue had insisted that he remain in the servants’ quarters far away from all of them.)

Nie Huaisang finished drinking the medicine, making a face that only went away when Nie Mingjue stuffed something sweet into his mouth to help get rid of the taste. “Will you be all right helping out?”

“Of course I will,” Nie Mingjue said. “I haven’t forgotten how to help host a party.”

“No, I meant…”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. Normally, Wen Ruohan had enough concern for his face to prefer that Nie Mingjue avoid showing his own shortly after he’d been insolent enough to warrant punishment, but due to the food poisoning they were short on young masters to greet all the incoming people – and their guests were too important not to be greeted by someone with status.

“I’ll use some powder, it’ll be fine,” he said. “And anyway, even if someone notices, it’s not like they would be bold enough to comment; they’re here to ask Sect Leader Wen for a favor, after all. Who will even pay attention to me long enough to notice?”

The answer, Nie Mingjue swiftly learned, was Yu Ming, a crotchety old grandmother from Meishan Yu in Sichuan who didn’t like the food (not spicy enough), her chair (the first one was too rickety, the second too soft), her peers (idiots, all of them), her drink (they’d served tea and she wanted wine, and then later on it was the other way around), and, most problematically, was one of the more influential sect leaders on the Jiang sect’s side. Not exactly someone they wanted to offend by providing inferior hospitality.  

Nie Mingjue ended up abandoning his now habitual corner in the back of the room to dash back and forth dancing attendance on her, run ragged and breathless by all of her demands.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise when she approached him in his corner during the banquet’s dessert course, and he straightened up at once, saluting politely. “Sect Leader Yu,” he said, suppressing a desire to moan and maybe beg for mercy; his legs were killing him. How this managed to be worse than serious saber training he had no idea, but it was. “Is the dessert not to your liking? I can get you something cool instead –”

“Sit down, boy,” she growled. “The crystal cakes are fine, and I’m tired of looking up at you. How tall are you? Six chi?”

“…five and a half, maybe five and three-quarters,” he confessed, sitting down obediently. At this point, she could tell him to jump out a window and he probably would – she had a very sharp walking stick and no hesitation about waving everywhere. No sympathy for her miserable victims, either.

“And you’re how old?”

“Seventeen.”

“Slowed down yet?”

“…not yet.”

She huffed. “That’s all we need, another Nie giant. I told your father that he was making a mistake, marrying a woman that needed to duck to get through doors…that how you got that black eye?”

“Huh?” Nie Mingjue said unintelligently, still caught by the mental image – he scarcely remembered his mother, having been very young when she left, but it was nice to think that it wasn’t just the perspective of having been a toddler that had made her appear quite so towering. “Oh, I – uh – training accident.”

Yu Ming squinted at him. “Same training accident that dislocated three of your fingers and a kneecap, did a number on your ribs, and cut your back up so bad that you need bandages and –” She inhaled. “– at least two doses of bai mao gen to replenish the blood lost?”

Nie Mingjue opened and closed his mouth wordlessly. Finally, yielding under her glare, he muttered, “I didn’t dislocate my kneecap.”

He might’ve preferred that, actually. Dislocations could be shoved back into place with relatively little issue; he’d sprained it, instead. A bad fall from when he’d shamefully broken and tried to run from the Fire Palace, futilely seeking safety, a place where he neither had to hurt people nor be hurt himself.

Not that such a place existed in the Nightless City, of course. He’d only been dragged back after, as he ought to have expected, and then things had gotten much worse, but he hadn’t really been thinking his actions through at the time.

“Dislocated, not dislocated, whatever. Has to be something, the way you’re dragging that left leg of yours behind you when you trot,” she said practically. “You’re a rotten liar, did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Many people,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. Most of them currently in bed with food poisoning, except for lucky Wen Ning away at the Lotus Pier and miserable Wen Xu now stuck standing by his father’s side, pretending to smile. “Does it matter?”

“Matter? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Other than going and applying more powder, there’s not much I can do about it even if it does offend your sight,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, reasonably enough in his view. “And no matter how many times or ways you ask it, the answer’s still going to be ‘training accident’, whether or not you believe me.”

Yu Ming poked his forehead with her finger, then his cheek. “And this is with powder,” she said, scowling and rubbing the remnants of it between her fingertips as if she hadn’t believed him that it was there until she’d verified it for herself. “If you won’t tell me anything other than ‘training accident’, will you at least tell me what you did to deserve this type of training?”

“I don’t remember,” Nie Mingjue said, and he really didn’t. All the thrashings more or less flowed together pretty well after a while, and in the end it didn’t really matter if he’d intervened on Nie Huaisang’s behalf or Wen Chao’s, whether he’d played whipping boy for Wen Xu or distracted attention away from Wen Qing – they were all close enough to be proper family now. What he did was nothing more than what you ought to do for those you loved, and he’d die before he forgot how to do that.

“Rotten liar,” Yu Ming said, maybe because she could tell he wasn’t lying, and spat on the ground. “It’s a filthy business.”

“I’m hardly going to disagree with you,” he said dryly.

“You might look a little less ragged if you did.”

He shrugged. “They say people can’t change their essential nature.”

“And what’s yours?”

“Blunt to the point of stupidity.”

“Say rather that you cut straight to the point,” she said.

“Well, you know, sabers have one blunt edge, one sharp,” he said, unable to resist a smile even if it pulled at the bruises around his eye. “I can be both.”

She was staring at him.

“…what?”

“You have dimples.”

“I’m…aware?”

He didn’t quite understand the calculating look Yu Ming had in her eyes – or, perhaps better said, he didn’t want to understand that look, and he was willing to put in a great deal of effort behind not understanding it if he had to.

“Do you want another crystal cake?” he asked her abruptly before she could say anything else. When she arched her eyebrows, he elaborated: “Sect Leader Wen will undoubtedly ask me whether I was taking good care of you, being as you are after all one of our honored guests.”

Don’t tell me anything, he meant. Even if you pity me – especially if you pity me. He has ways to make me talk. He likes making me talk.

“…fine, then,” Yu Ming said. “You said something about there being something cool?”

Nie Mingjue suppressed a groan as he dragged himself out of his seat and headed to the kitchen to see if they still had any sorbet left over.

-

“– going to be tricky,” Nie Huaisang was saying to a nodding Wen Xu as Nie Mingjue walked by. “Lanling Jin isn’t fond of making decisions.”

“But they are fond of profit,” Wen Xu pointed out.

“The question will be if there’s a way to strike the right balance without giving too much away –”

Nie Mingjue decided to believe that they were talking about pornography. People said Jin Guangshan was into that sort of thing, didn’t they?

-

Nie Mingjue trained with Baxia at least once every day, and usually more. He found the repetitive actions calming, like an active form of meditation, and he was happy to sink into the mindlessness of physical exertion and forget his worries.

Baxia was warm under his hand, as always – he thought sometimes that she’d never quite adjusted to the warmer temperatures of the Nightless City, preferring as he did the cooler weather of Qinghe.

Perhaps, in time, she would forget it.

Perhaps, in time, so would he.

Forget the cool air filling his lungs, the crisp snap of an autumn day just about to begin; forget the smell of the forests and the feeling of gravel under his shoes. Forget the strain on his muscles from climbing up a steep cliff, the taste of an early snowfall on his tongue – the metallic tang to the water, the lingering smell of smoke in the air even when there wasn’t anyone around for miles.

It felt unforgettable.

But he knew that it wasn’t. In the face of time, all things were ground down into the dust.

He would be eighteen years old this year. Still a little shy of proper adulthood, an unlucky year, if luck had anything to do with his life any longer. He’d been here for four years, just shy of a quarter of all the years he’d ever lived.

Perhaps that was what made him melancholy.

Or perhaps it was only that he had been unable to light incense on the anniversary of his father’s death yet again this year. Wen Ruohan took particular pleasure in ensuring that he couldn’t – he had spent the first year unconscious, the second year immobilized, the third…he tried not to remember.

It didn’t really matter, he supposed, since he’d always agreed in advance that Nie Huaisang would light the incense on behalf of them both, both on the anniversary and on Qingming – they hadn’t ever been given leave to return to Qinghe to sweep their ancestral graves, not once, not even when some of the other sects had complained about the impropriety of it. No one ever paid attention to Nie Huaisang, underestimating how sneaky he could be, and so he’d managed it just fine. Still, the failure to do it himself tugged at Nie Mingjue’s heart, disappointed him in himself - in his failure to be a good son, just as he so often failed to be a good brother.

He sank back into his training by force of willpower.

His cultivation was increasing at an acceptable rate, he thought – shockingly fast by all metrics, but all of his teachers said that his foundations were good, steady as mountains, and his progression through each stage was smooth and unhindered by bottlenecks. The consequences of genius, they said with a shrug.

It was about the only thing that was going in an acceptable manner.

Ma Liyuan had fallen out of favor, as Wen Xu had predicted – she’d failed to remain pregnant despite repeated efforts, and Wen Ruohan took such pleasure in criticizing her for it that Nie Mingjue suspected he’d dosed her tea with contraceptives specifically to set her up for the failure, since he didn’t actually need more sons – but her usefulness remained, so she was married in with all pomp to Wen Chao’s household as a secondary wife.

(She’d been promised the position of first wife, and threw a fit when she realized the change, but Wen Ruohan had reminded her, sneering, that that had been when she’d been a pure and untouched maiden; she really couldn’t expect them to pay such a high price for secondhand goods, now could she?)

Wen Chao obviously had no interest in her at all – she’d tried, once, to make herself up and smile at him and he’d recoiled as if he’d seen a snake, then stared at her and said, “You’re joking, right?” – so she’d taken the next best option and sent her maid to seduce him in her stead.

Wang Lingjiao was pretty enough, with curves enough to make just about any man stare, and pretty cunning to boot. In a different world, a world where Wen Chao had fallen for his father’s nasty little tricks and become a stupid oversexed princeling, a waste of space that would have been incited into fighting against Wen Xu for the sole purpose of being crushed to prove some imagined point of about the necessity of cruelty, she probably would have been able to crawl into his bed and keep her place there without much difficulty.

Wen Chao was a bit of a romantic, after all, no matter how much he tried to deny it.

As it was, when her first few efforts at flirtation failed – or, well, mostly failed, given that Wen Chao held her hands in his own during a garden stroll in the moonlight and told her, with great earnestness, that she was very beautiful and it was such a pity that he wasn’t allowed to think of women romantically until he was fifteen on pain of utmost humiliation and also was she aware of the dangers of venereal disease – Wang Lingjiao pulled back and recalibrated her approach.

This time, she went for Nie Mingjue.

“You’re joking, right?” he asked her.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is that a deliberate reference to what Wen Chao said?”

“No, just the same idea. I’m not interested.”

“That much is obvious enough,” she said, tossing her hair. “I want you to tell me what I need to do to get someone to be interested. I don’t want to be a servant any longer.”

Nie Mingjue was at something of a loss for words.

“There must be something I can provide,” Wang Lingjiao demanded. “Some service, some use…I’m a weak cultivator, but that clearly doesn’t bother you lot – your younger brother is weak, too, though I’m still a bit worse. I’m not as dumb as Ma Liyuan; I know there’s more you can sell in life than sex, even if that’s easier. What do you want? What do any of you want?”

Wang Lingjiao was from the Yingchuan Wang cultivation clan, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. A smaller sect, with too many children, but a standalone sect nonetheless; their children were born as gentry, not servants. No, they must have sold Wang Lingjiao into servitude, though whether it was to get an in with Qishan Wen or simply to get rid of a budding problem – and extremely beautiful young women with poor cultivation were often a problem, especially when their beauty suggested how their mothers had gotten themselves selected to be wives, or, more likely, concubines – he did not know.

“Do you mix your own makeup?” he asked, and she stared at him. “It’s very well done.”

“…yes,” she said, giving him a strange look. “I do. None that’ll fit you, though.”

He blinked, then laughed. “No, I don’t want any; the only use I have for powder is to cover up bruises when I need to be presentable. I just meant that it seems you have a steady hand at mixing things and judging proportions – A-Qing appreciates those qualities.”

“Wen Qing?” Wang Lingjiao asked, bewildered. “You want to send me to a woman?”

“She’s expressed before that she would like to have more female company,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao’s expression only got more fish-like as she gaped at him. “A fair while back, in fairness, but the numbers really are skewed fairly strongly against her. I thought you might get along. Be friends.”

“I’ve never had a female friend in my life,” Wang Lingjiao told him.

“I thought – you’re always chatting with the other serving girls…?”

Wang Lingjiao rolled her eyes as if he were being stupid. He probably was. Forget Qishan ways, the ways of the teenaged girl were utterly beyond his grasp.

“I don’t see what you have to lose by trying,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I’m not interested, Xu-ge’s too paranoid to get within touching distance of anyone he thinks has an ulterior motive, A-Chao isn’t allowed to touch women for a few more years –”

“Why is that?”

“He’s gullible, and has both questionable taste and sibling-inflicted trauma relating to brothels,” Nie Mingjue explained, and Wang Lingjiao wrinkled her nose, looking a little amused despite herself. “A-Ning isn’t the type to womanize, and Huaisang is too young. Also a vicious cutthroat when it comes to interpersonal relations, so who even knows what type of person he’d like, if any.”

“I’d noticed that about him.”

“In sum, A-Qing is your best bet,” he concluded. “And all the more so if you approach her in a business-like fashion: make clear to her what benefits you bring and how you’ll compensate for the drawbacks, be practical and reasonable, and you’ll do fine. Do well, and you won’t ever need to fear being sent back to Ma Liyuan – or to Yingchuan.”

Wang Lingjiao stared at him for a moment – she hadn’t expected him to be able to figure that out, he thought, since she was just clever enough to manage to puzzle out that he was the heart and core of their little group but not quite smart enough to realize why – but in the end she seemed to take his advice to heart, nodding and walking away.

He hoped Wen Qing didn’t kill him for sending her a terrible lab assistant.

[viastro]

since we were eighteen | xu minghao

ミ★ synopsis: in which you break up with your boyfriend to confess to your best friend, but he brings another girl to the party.

ミ★ genre: kinda angsty, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: does alcohol count?

ミ★ word count: 1,897

ミ★ pairings: minghao x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! it’s been awhile since i’ve posted a oneshot. quite literally caught lackin luv! i dedicated a lot of my free time into finishing my sm!au, you were beautiful, so that i can start working on other stuff without having to worry about it. i’m also going through finals, and tomorrow is my last exam for precalculus and then i’m done! i’ll be trying to post a lot more oneshots, and i’ll definitely be trying to work on my requests again. this is a really long note uhhh am so sorry luv x. i hope you guys enjoy this one! 

You stare at him from across the room, drunkenly admiring his lopsided smile when he laughs. He turns his head and catches your gaze, and you turn away, now looking up at the ceiling as you listen to the loud music around you. 

Mingyu’s parties are typically known to be the one that everyone on campus wants to go to. However, you can only come if you’re invited. Lucky for you, you’re best friends with the thirteen heartthrobs of Seoul University. Typically you’d be hanging out with your boyfriend right now, probably watching him play beer pong or playing one of those typical party games. 

But you’re lying alone on the couch as everyone around you dances, quite tipsy, borderline drunk. You broke up with your boyfriend of three months the weekend before. You realized you couldn’t stay with him when your heart belonged to someone else, it wouldn’t be fair to him. He was surprisingly alright with it though, even patting your head and telling you it’s okay when you started crying at the fact that you’re a horrible person for hurting him. 

“It’s okay yn, I knew.”

He even told you to go for it, assuming a while back that the guy you loved had feelings for you as well. Yet here you are. Laying on the couch by yourself, tipsy, in love, and alone with your thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. 

“God. This is pathetic.” You mutter to yourself, watching the colorful lights dance and hearing the sound of cheers around you. A certain laugh catches your attention, and you slowly turn your head to see Minghao laughing at something the girl he brought to the party said. Now pouting, you look away from the girl when she begins to cuddle up to him. 

You close your eyes, mind fuzzy as you blindly reach for the soju bottle you placed beside the couch. You frown when you grab something that’s definitely not a soju bottle, and you open your eyes to see you holding onto Jun’s leg. He gives you a smile, patting your head when you groan and cover your face with your hands. 

“You wanna sleep in Mingyu’s room until Hao can take you home?” You shake your head no, and Jun lets out a small sigh. He nudges you with his knee until you finally look at him with a glare, and he motions for you to sit up. You groan, moving so that you’re no longer laying down on the couch. Jun sits down beside you, taking a sip of his Coke as he takes in your miserable appearance.

“I typically associate you with being a happy drunk, but you look really sad tonight.” You turn your head to look at your friend, and you let out a tired laugh. You look at the other side of the room, finding Minghao and the girl engaged in conversation. His fluffy blonde hair is parted down the middle, emphasizing the soft look in his eyes as he stares at her attentively. He’s wearing an oversized gray shirt, with ripped blue jeans that he designed himself on a whim. 

Jun follows your gaze, letting out a sad smile when he finds who you’re staring at. He lifts up his hand and covers your view, and you slowly turn to look at him. The two of you don’t exchange any words, you just rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes which allows a tear to fall and drop onto his shirt. 

“You know, he really lo-”

“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear anything.” You mumble, just trying to find solace in Jun’s familiar scent that’s now mixed with alcohol. “I just think you should talk to him.” 

Your eyes open once you hear the girl’s laugh again, and you glance over to see her basically throwing herself into Minghao’s arms as she laughs. You glare, and before you know it, you’re standing up and stumbling over. Jun’s eyes widen and he follows after you, attempting to put a stop to whatever you’re about to do, but you slap his hand away. You only pause when you’re right in front of Minghao and his date, and he looks up at you with a small smile on his face. 

“Hi yn.” 

“Yn, let’s go.” Jun mutters, reaching for your hand again and you harshly pull it out of his grasp. You stumble slightly due to your lack of balance, and Minghao immediately stands up to rest his hands on your waist to steady you. You freeze at the contact, looking up into his eyes to see him staring at you already.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink, let’s take you back home.” Minghao tells you, eyes glancing over your red cheeks and glassy eyes. He lets go of your waist, turning to the girl and telling her he has to bring you home.

“Why not just have one of your friends take them? We were having a great time.” She says and you shoot her a glare. Minghao shakes his head, “Yn matters more to me than a great time. I’ll see you around.” 

And with that, he grasps your wrist softly and takes you in the direction of the front door. The two of you pass your friends, and they break out into giggles at your obvious drunkenness. It’s when you and Minghao step out of the house and the cold night air hits your skin that you let out a whine. 

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“We just need to walk to the mailbox to get to my car and then you won’t have to walk anymore.” Minghao responds, practically dragging you now. 

“I don’t wanna.” You say once you’re closer to his car, and he chooses not to respond to you. Continuing to pull you in the direction of the mailbox. You fling your wrist out of his grip, and he turns to you with a confused expression on his face. 

“What is it?” 

“You’re annoyed that you have to bring me home right?” Minghao rolls his eyes, shaking his head ‘no’ before reaching for your hand again. You take a step back and cross your arms. 

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. Yn, it’s cold and you’re not even wearing a jacket. Let’s go to my car, mm?” You shake your head, looking up at the stars. Minghao lets out a sigh, taking a few steps closer to you to just pick you up and you stumble away from him. 

“Yn.”

“No.”

“Listen, I know you’ve been upset about the breakup but-” He stops when he hears your chuckles, and he raises an eyebrow at you. Your chuckles slowly turn into a laugh, until they turn into tears filling your eyes. 

“I’m not upset about the breakup.” You mutter, and Minghao tilts his head to the side in confusion. You look back into his eyes, and his expression softens when he sees the tears in your eyes. 

“Then what are you upset about?” You choose to stay silent, and he bites the inside of his cheek before continuing.

“If it’s not the breakup then what is it? I know you were upset about it because you called me crying after it happened, so if you’re not sad about that then what-”

“It’s because I love you.” Minghao freezes, head turning back towards you to find you staring at him with your nose turning more red by the second.

“What?”

“I’ve loved you since we were eighteen. I only dated him in an attempt to get over you, but I knew it was wrong so I ended things with him.” Minghao stares at you with an indecipherable look on his face, and you quickly try to wipe away the tears spilling from your eyes. “I was going to confess to you yesterday, but you were so excited about the date you were able to score with that girl that I couldn’t. Now I’m kinda drunk, really alone, and in a one-sided love with my best friend-” 

You’re effectively cut off with a small gasp when Minghao’s hands reach up to softly cup your face. He stares into your eyes, and warmth floods your cheeks. “Say it again.” 

You find yourself staring at the hopeful expression on his face, wondering if he’s been wanting this for as long as you have. 

“I love you.” You whisper, and Minghao lets out a small smile before his lips crash onto yours, hands resting on both sides of your face as your hand now tightly clutches his shirt. The kiss tastes of salt from your tears with a mix of the strawberry soju you were both drinking. Your heart does a somersault in your chest, finding his kisses to be addicting. 

Minghao pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, a smile breaking out onto his face when you look into his eyes. He moves back and presses a kiss to the top of your head, before bending down and throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a small squeal, laughing at your new perspective of the world.

“We’re going to the car now yn, it’s cold and you’re gonna get sick.” You smile, patting his nonexistent butt to the beat of the steps he takes. Minghao unlocks his car, gently placing you into the passenger seat and buckling your seatbelt. You nuzzle into the leather seat, closing your eyes sleepily as you’re now in the sleepy stage of being drunk. You’re half asleep when you fail to notice Minghao starting the car and pulling out of his parking spot.

“Was that kiss a dream?” You ask sleepily, and Minghao lets out a small giggle. “No it wasn’t.”

“Are dating you and I now?” 

“Dating is you and I.” You smile in your half-awake state, and he reaches over to turn up the heat in the car for you. 

“You’ve loved me back this entire time?” Minghao nods his head, grinning at you trying to keep your eyes open. 

“For as long as I can remember.” A sleepy smile forms on your face, making him coo at you. You’re about to ask another question when Minghao shushes you.

“Go to sleep yn, we can talk about everything tomorrow, okay?” You nod your head, letting sleep take over a few minutes after. Minghao turns his head to look at you once he hits a red light, and he smiles softly at how cute you look when you’re asleep. He reaches into the back and grabs his jacket, bringing it to the front and placing it over you as a make-shift blanket. 

The light turns green, and Minghao drives through the intersection. He’s still thinking of the kiss the two of you shared, and he lifts a hand up to his lips shyly. He glances over at you, and chuckles at your now open mouth. 

“Can’t believe you’ve loved me back this entire time.” Minghao whispers, reminiscing the times he thought his love for you was hopeless. He pats your head softly, before turning back towards the road. Letting day6 play softly in the background.

말로 다 할 수 없어, 이 아름다운 느낌.

can’t express it with words, this beautiful feeling.

[offaeandcreation]

Sleep-Deprived College Student Becomes World's Strongest Cultivator By Bullshit Means

Summary: The last thing WanLi An (Ani) expected was to a) die in the most pathetic and ridiculous manner, b) wake up in the body of a villain destined to be beheaded in a war of their own making. Of course with Ani's luck, that's exactly what happened. Now Ani finds herself the ruthless, morally-questionable at best, leader of Qishan Wen, rearing two bratty children, while pretending that yes, she is absolutely Wen Ruohan. Nothing to see here! Everything is just fine. Except the universe isn't done making her life hell. "For fuck's sake, I just wanted my degree!"

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Chapter 2: The Curious Consequences of Wen Ruohan Being a Dick

Content Warnings: Mentions of Decapitation, Death, Auto-cannibalism, and torture.

AO3

I’m fucked. I’m fucked. I’m so fucking fucked

The moment the servant excused himself with far too many bows, Ani found herself pacing around – not a thing she usually did, but it was as if the muscles in her body demanded to walk. Every movement felt foreign. For starters, Ani was used to the floor being closer, not a continent away like in this body. She was pretty sure that she was at least six feet tall. 

That’s hardly important now! 

As of now, Ani was NOT in New York after falling 80 feet from a building. She was in the body of Wen Ruohan, a backstory villain destined to die. 

“This can’t be real,” Ani muttered, “Like what law of physics or reality would just switch me with a character from a book I recently read? Too much of a coincidence.” 

There is another possibility even if it sounds cliche. 

It was possible that Ani survived the fall and was in a coma. A coma-induced dream sequence where her mind was able to construct a reality. Perhaps that’s why coma patients had a hard time waking up? 

Ani closed her eyes and pinched herself. She opened them. The Wen insignia burned into her vision, a scarlet sun painted against white. 

No change. 

“Would’ve been too easy,” she grumbled. 

The reality her mind set wouldn’t be so easily broken. It was a coma. She needed time to heal. Her gaze fell back to her own reflection in the broken mirror.

Why Wen Ruohan though? He literally had one chapter, and outside of being a typical arrogant villain, there was nothing to him. 

Nothing I care about. 

Brain, why? 

In any case, whatever reality her mind constructed, the question became: what next? Did she play along? Do whatever she wanted? Are there consequences? Part of her wanted to just say, “fuck it!” and maybe throw a pillow fight until she woke up. But, a more…cautious part of herself wanted to hold back because “what if?”

Ani wanted to slam her head into a desk or something. 

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. They didn’t quite sound outside the door but all the same. From the sound of it, two people were heading her way. And she was standing in the middle of her room in just a flimsy nightgown. Very un-Wen Ruohan like. 

Gazing about wildly, her eyes landed on the table covered in files. She ran towards it, stumbling because big feet are a trip hazard. In a move she probably couldn’t ever pull off again, she contorted her body to slide behind the desk, landing so roughly on the pillow it felt like the equivalent of being spanked. Ani grabbed a random scroll and opened it, staring into the annotations she didn’t understand as if she did. 

Wow, this rice paper is soft. Why isn’t it used more often? Paper cut free! 

The door finally opened. The visitors saw Sect Leader Wen Ruohan behind his desk, doing paperwork! 

At least Ani hoped that’s what she appeared to be doing. 

Two men entered the room, one wearing a white and red robe with scarlet tendrils outlining his robes’s panels – far more than the servant who had nothing on his front. The other man was dressed completely in black. 

They both kowtowed. 

Does everyone kowtow to Wen Ruohan? 

The one in white and red spoke, looking up from his face plant, “Sect Leader,” he began, “we are glad to see you awake and well.”

…what am I to say now? 

She stared at the scroll, pretending to be hung up on something. The men waited in silence. It would be too awkward to not respond. One was expected and the bowed position they were holding looked too uncomfortable to hold. 

Didn’t the servant mention a physician was coming? Maybe this is him? 

There was no Wen Physician mentioned outside of Wen Qing, but clearly the person before her was a man. Not Wen Qing, who was a badass woman, queen of lesbians – a personal head-canon of course. 

“You may get up, physician.” Ani said with as much confidence she could muster, finally glancing up from her faux scroll reading. Her voice was a low tremble that sounded more akin to a growl than anything else. The physician flinched, his skin paled considerably.

Whoops.

 The physician hesitated, but quickly clambered to his feet and bowed his head. 

You really have them fearing you, Wen Ruohan.

 Her frown deepened. This made the physician break out into sweat.

 Shit, right. Wen Ruohan being displeased meant nothing good was going to happen. 

The other man was still kowtowing, having not moved an inch. 

Ani gestured for him to get up too, no use in giving them muscle pain because she was too thunderstruck to know what to say or do. 

Oh, to hell with it. I might as well figure out how soon I’ll have my head chopped off. 

“What happened, physician? My servant implied that I was not well, previously…being unconscious for a period of time.” 

The physician bowed, “Sect Leader Wen, your servant spoke the truth. You have experienced Qi Deviation and have spent over two weeks unconscious.” 

Huh?

Her confusion was clearly illustrated as the physician straightened with a wince, “An accident, Sect Leader. During the Conference.” 

Ani stared at the physician. 

I don’t remember this happening in the novel. Like. At all. 

Her eyes landed on the man in black. His face was as expressive as a brick in a tuxedo, kind of cool looking but overall had the emotional capacity of a, well… brick. Then she gazed back at the physician who was wringing his hands – probably anxiety. Nothing. They remained tight lipped. 

“What accident?” If patience was a string that was pulled tighter and tighter when used, she was pretty sure it would be close to needle width. 

The physician shared a glance with the man in black. Considering how much Ani knew about the latter, he could actually be in fact an ancient version of ‘Men in Black.’ 

The man in black cleared his throat, “Apologies, Sect Leader Wen. You called Sect Leader Nie over, but I was assigned to guard Wen Xu for the night.” There was a twinge in his expression, slight down turn of his brows, dark eyes refusing to meet her eyes, “you collapsed during the discussion.”  

Ani felt an itch in her mind. Something familiar. But no matter how much she tugged at it, nothing came of it. Even with the building pressure in her chest that made her want to kick something, she nodded, thanking them. 

The physician’s eyes widened to the point Ani thought his eyeballs would pop out. The man in black’s brows twitched. 

“What?” Ani couldn’t help bite out. Did they never hear the word ‘thank you’ in their lives? 

Then the singular brain cell that kept Ani from ending up without a degree, mostly, started working. 

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t just say thank you to anyone. Social status and general assholeness.  

Her brain was very detailed. Even taking into account social positions. It would be nice if this genius was applicable in real life. 

“If you do not mind Sect Leader,” the physician interrupted her thoughts, “allow me to check you mederines to make certain everything healed properly.”  

Ani nodded, allowing the physician to take her arm and pull up the sleeve. Sharp punctures pricked her skin as the physician prodded at her arm. 

 A discussion conference two weeks ago probably meant they weren’t at war yet. Strange how her mind plopped her before the war, with a situation that never once came up in the book. 

A flash of silver caught her eye. Physician Wen removed a needle from his sleeve, pointing towards Ani’s arm. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck. 

FUCK. 

The last time Ani had gotten acupuncture, she burst into tears so loudly that her mother had to drag her out the building to avoid the police being called. She was nineteen at the time. 

At this moment, the physician was holding a very sharp needle over her arm, with the full intention of stabbing her with it- 

-and it went flying out of his hand. 

The physician froze, staring at his hand that just seconds ago held a very large needle. Then, he looked around the room among the multiple dark carpets and furniture for where it may have flown off to. 

“Physician.” The man in black said, holding up the needle. He must have caught it midair. 

What just happened? 

“Thank you Master Wen Zhuliu,” The physician took the needle back. 

Again, something itched at the back of Ani’s mind but no, she could get nothing more from that. 

Was it a strange relationship between her unconscious and conscious mind? Memory which she cannot access now but exists? Yet, that wouldn’t explain the physician. Ani was certain she would have remembered something about him if he existed. 

A sharp pinch sent Ani right out of her mental bubble. A needle poked out of her arm, silver against pale flesh. Cold ran up her spine and- 

It went flying across the bedroom. 

Ani, the mysterious probable alien hunter, and the physician, watched in silence as the needle bounced on the floor before rolling to a stop against a nearby rug. 

The physician looked like he would rather be anywhere else than dealing with this bullshit. Ani too would rather be anywhere else but be in a body that was not her own – granted having the ability to literally yeet needles when they so much as brushed against her skin was a useful skill worth investing in. 

The silence ended when the physician cleared his throat, 

“Sect Leader Wen,” he saluted, finally letting go of her arm. Ani looked at him. The soft rice paper crinkled under her grip. He stiffened at the sound. 

Shit right, he’s terrified of Wen Ruohan, crinkly paper equals angry. 

Granted, how does he know his sect leader isn’t freaking out or something? 

“Your golden core is healing, stable enough to not cause problems but your spiritual energy is unstable.” He coughed, “I recommend avoiding cultivation for the time being outside of meditating.” 

He emphasized the word ‘recommend.’ 

“Okay.*” Ani said.

A pause. The physician stared at her, brow crooked with question. 

“Okay?” Ani repeated. Did he not hear her? 

Multiple expressions shifted through his features too quickly for Ani to decipher. More silence. 

If you don’t say anything, how the hell am I to understand what you are confused about! Communicate dammit! 

The physician saluted her, “my apologies Sect Leader, I do not understand the meaning of the word you said.” 

Wait…

Oh. 

“I meant, very well. I was the one being unclear.” 

She did not see the expression on the man’s face because he was too busy bowing. But, the way he paused probably meant it wasn’t the expected response. 

He remained bowed. 

Ani waited for him to get up.

He didn’t.

What the fuck. 

His figure began to tremble. 

Is there a magic word?

 “You are dismissed.” Ani said. 

Seeing as the physician finally got up and only bowed briefly to “Wen Zhuliu” before leaving the room, then clearly he was waiting for her to dismiss him. 

Noted.  

Why would her mind conjure up a situation where the albeit English ‘okay’ was not understood, the ancient Chinese decor was the main component of her surroundings, and the kowtowing that she only seen in dramas? Though, it was very much within her brain’s personality to include the bit with the needle. Fuck needles. 

Some things she could explain through second hand knowledge from Grandmother and the media. Others she could not. It felt as if she truly had transmigrated into a different world. 

Meaning, I am dead. 

And I left Mom and A-Li all alone. 

Ani shook her head, shoving the thought away. 

No, it isn’t for certain. I could just be dreaming up a drama. Unconscious memory could play a role. Lucid dreaming while in coma. 

The reasoning felt flimsier than a single sheet of newspaper.  

Or rice paper considering they don’t really exist now in…whatever this was. 

“Does Sect Leader need anything?” Wen Zhuliu asked, his face not so much as twitching.

Ani stiffened. This Wen Zhuliu looks like someone who could see right through her soul – a soul that doesn’t belong in this body.  

Ya, there is no way this guy isn’t going to see I’m full of shit. 

She needed to get rid of him. Somehow.

“Tea. Being unconscious for several weeks makes one very deprived of tea.” 

That sounded so fucking cringe. 

If the alien-hunter Wen Zhuliu thought what she said was cringe (which it absolutely was), he didn’t show it. Somebody give this dude a raise, he clearly deserves one. 

He simply saluted and made his way after the physician. He paused, hand hesitating on the dark wooden slide. But seemingly dismissing whatever thought had occurred, he opened the door and left. 

That was weird. 

Ani was left alone in the bedroom once again. The noise from all the bustling and flying needles was replaced by relative silence – the only break was the occasional pitter patter of footsteps, servants rushing about most probably. 

Well then…

Whether or not the world she was in was a fabrication of her mind, walking into the situation blind was unwise. What she needed to do was map out what she remembered and figure out where to go from there. Ani removed an empty sheet of rice paper, long finger nails leaving little wrinkles. 

For a moment she considered writing in Chinese. But being in ‘enemy territory,’ writing in their tongue is a sure way to get found out. Nodding to herself, Ani looked for a writing utensil, eyes landing on the brushes. If there were brushes, ink had to be somewhere…

Yet there wasn’t a single container on the desk! Ani moved scrolls about, shifting past papers looking for the damn ink bottle- 

Her eyes landed on a stone with an indent and slope. Made of a metal, miniature dragons decorated the edges. They all surrounded a sun motif. Ani briefly glanced at the banner hanging over the door – very similar. 

It was an Ink stone. 

Which means there is an ink stick. 

“Thanks, Grandma,” Ani muttered to herself as she rubbed the just-found ink stick against the grinder. 

She grinned when she mixed in the water she found in a water jug near the bed. 

Ink! 

Ha! So she wasn’t screwed after all. Maybe she could make this world work for her, until she woke up that is. 

In English, she wrote the name ‘The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation” at the top of the page. 

Now, what do I remember from the novel? 

Wen Ruohan: Tyrant. Super powerful cultivator. Caused war because he is a prideful prick. Burned Lotus Pier. Killed by Jin Guangyao via head decapitation.

Didn’t he have children? 

Ani tapped her chin, flinching at the sharp nail that poked her. 

Again, stupid nails. Has this guy ever heard of a nail clipper?

Probably not since they weren’t invented yet. 

With that, a mental image of a greasy man flashed in her mind. One that was far too blurry to really pinpoint their features, but she could recollect clearly from the novel Wen Ruohan’s son, a greasy bitch of a man, Wen Chao. 

She groaned. 

Ugh, don’t tell me I have to deal with him too. 

Wen Chao: Greasy, asshole, entitled, death was- 

Memories of the novel resurfaced, a man with missing fingers, covered in bandages- 

-death by auto-cannibalism and torture. 

The man was disgusting. But even Ani thought that Wei Wuxian took it too far. 

Speaking of the main character, Ani wondered how old Wei Wuxian was now. The man in black Wen Zhuliu mentioned a discussion conference where Wen Ruohan collapsed, however it did not give the time frame nor any information outside of ‘war explicitly did not happen yet.’

Ani dunked her head onto the desk. 

Why can’t anything be straight forward? Is that too much to ask? 

The sudden coolness knocked her out of her thoughts. She lifted her head, only for something to drip into her eyes. She wiped her face with her white sleeve. Wet black ink tracks were left on pure white silk. 

“FUCK!” 

In her drama, she slammed her face right into the ink stone, staining her entire forehead in black as well as the surrounding documents. She could feel the ink dripping down her face. 

Where were those bandages I saw earlier…

There was a gentle knock at the door. 

FUCK. 

Ani scrambled for the bed. 

Except time was not on her side. The door opened and a servant wearing white with red trim walked on their knees in. Their eyes met. 

“Aieeee!” The servant screamed, before their eyes rolled back and they collapsed on the floor in an ugly flair of white robes. 

Ani stared with a slacken jaw at the dramatic servant,

“Am I that scary looking?”

No response, as expected from an unconscious person lying on the floor. 

Maybe I ought to help them somehow…

As Ani made a movement to approach the fallen servant, there was a crash, something akin to the sound of dish ware falling. In a flash of black,Wen Zhuliu rushed into the room, one hand aglow. His eyes widened as he looked around for an enemy, finally seeing Ani. 

If he faints, I’m calling it quits. 

Lucky for everyone involved, he did not faint. He blinked, then looked at his feet where the servant laid on the floor, limbs out in every cardinal direction. 

“Apparently ink is scary.” Ani remarked. She wiped her face, meeting only black that was sure to stain her skin for at least a week, “like a terrible face mask. Don’t tell me I need to shower.” 

“Shower- ” Wen Zhuliu stopped himself, “Is Sect Leader well?” 

Ani glanced at the desk. The ink stone was luckily intact, but ink dripped all over her memory paper, as well as some of the other documents. 

She looked back at the patient Wen Zhuliu, “I went to war with ink and lost.” 

Wen Zhuliu slowly nodded, as if he was listening to the weather report and not that his Sect Leader declared war on ink and lost spectacularly. The servants behind him had more colorful reactions.

Seriously, someone give this guy a raise. 

Wen Zhuliu confirmed the statement by turning at the servants, fixing them with a look that made them freeze. A glare? Or a stare of disappointed disapproval? They scrambled forward, kowtowed to Ani and began to traverse the room on their knees. 

Okay, that’s it! 

“Just get to your feet. It will kill your knees if you continue like this.” Ani said. 

The servants gawked. Even Wen Zhuliu’s eyes widened slightly. 

Wait, is it a thing for servants to walk on their knees? Did I fuck a customary thing up? 

There was no knee walking in dramas last time Ani checked, unless it was meant to underscore the ‘arrogant asshole villain.’ Granted, Emperors required a certain etiquette but she couldn’t recall if knee walking was a thing. Kowtowing yes, knee walking…she wasn’t so sure. 

One servant opened their mouth but another gave a not so subtle shove. 

“As you wish, Sect Leader,” all three of them saluted. 

If I wasn’t going to get weird reactions, I would have pointed out how creepy that was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Wen Zhuliu silently handing her a wet towel. It appeared to be a blessing for everyone in the room as they had a moment, while Ani wiped her face, to compose themselves. 

Two servants waited, this time on their feet, as Ani finished wiping her face. The crinkle in one of their brows and the other looking away to cough was enough of a statement.

“I’m still covered in ink, aren’t I?” Ani grumbled, glaring at the white silk under robe, stained black. 

“Hair spray would do the trick…”

Except right. Mo Dao Zu Shi didn’t have hairspray because hello, ancient China! 

They did not respond. Merely standing and waiting. Expecting something. Ani was tempted to blame it on lack of communication but most probably they were ordered to keep their mouth shut and  awaiting for permission for..something. Aka being out of the loop was getting very annoying and at this point Ani wanted to scream. 

“Yes?” 

The servants eyed each other, faces looking more and more pallid by the second. 

Is there some unwritten rule I’m missing? Am I not supposed to ask them or something?

Most likely yes, she probably broke ten thousand unspoken rules in the past thirty seconds and it was a wonder that they haven’t raised an alarm. 

“Would Sect Leader like to be dressed?” They echoed. Because being creepy was clearly on the menu today. 

Ani was about to respond that she could dress herself, thanks, before taking a good look at their robes.

She had no idea how to put on cultivation robes. 

“Mmm” She agreed. 

Then immediately regretted it when after she was escorted to a divider, the servants began to undo the only piece of clothing she had on! 

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. 

For once in her life, the blessed gods and Super Girl have looked down at her and smiled. 

She was wearing pants. 

But even without looking down, she knew she was missing a particular body part most people of the female sex had.  

The sensation of soft silk sliding off her body was replaced by a flash of chill from the room, sending goose bumps up and down her arms. 

As the servants shuffled around, opening and closing drawers, Wen Zhuliu knocked on the divider, 

“I have sent a servant to replace the mirror and tea.” 

Just like that? Wait, so the doctor nor Alien hunter even so much as acknowledged I shattered a mirror? 

Was this an everyday occurrence? Did Wen Ruohan go around smashing mirrors? 

Apparently so as the physician barely so much as glanced at it. Or maybe he didn’t notice and Wen Zhuliu just wasn’t the type to be ruffled. Probably. 

The servants slipped Ani into a new white silk robe. More unfamiliar fabric was placed on top – upper garment made of a thicker material but looked as high in quality: white with red trimmings and floral motifs. 

The last time she really seen anything similar to the articles of clothing they were dressing her in was when she went to a museum with her grandmother and brother. 

To secure the upper garment, they had to wrap it all around her torso. Never had Ani owned a clothing that required any sort of wrapping. 

The wrinkle of the unfamiliar fabric was the only noise she could hear as they put on another robe, this time with an open chest but still wrapped around her waist. 

No way she could have thought of this. Imagination nor repressed memory. 

There was a tug at her scalp. A servant was using a golden comb to detangle her waist long hair. Ani found herself very aware of how heavy the raven locks were. At least her neck was warm. . There was an occasional pull as the comb got stuck on a particular knot,  pinching her scalp. 

There were too many sensations. 

The environment, the precision, the reactions, the actions, the dialect. Even if she were to watch every drama in the world, and read all the books pertaining the ‘ancient Chinese’ setting, her mind couldn’t possibly manifest it all as some coma dream.

Too many details. 

Too many sensations. 

Her heart began to pound in her chest, so hard it was deafening. Fingers trembled. 

That would mean…

We’ve finished Sect Leader.” They bowed. 

Ani nodded, too numb to reply. Slowly, every muscle in her body screaming at her to not do it, she turned to the only other reflective surface in the room. A ceramic vase sat on the table by the bed. It distorted her figure – but she could locate her face, that’s all what mattered. 

“This is real.” She whispered. 

Wen Ruohan’s mouth mirrored her words. 

The vase exploded. 

——————————

The physician was practically carted in with tools and all, at Wen Zhuliu’s orders. He never raised his voice above indoor-level, like a good kindergartner, even as he shoved the divider to the side as if he half expected an enemy to be hiding behind there. 

The physician looked even more frazzled, all his dark hair sticking out of his bun and eyes wide with panic. He grabbed Ani’s wrist as her other one was being held by Wen Zhuliu. 

The similar prickling sensation swept up her arm into her stomach that flared with a comforting heat, like an internal battery. A golden core. 

This is real. I’m not in a coma. This is real. 

Like a mantra, the words repeated in her mind in a constant loop. Over and over. 

This is real. I’m dead. This is real. 

The physician stared at her arm with an intensity she hadn’t seen previously: his dark eyes hardened, akin to bronze. He was watching something, looking at her arm as if he could see into it. 

A sudden flash of pain had Ani nearly cry out. She bit her lip until copper filled her mouth. The physician barked several orders, but Ani couldn’t understand a word. 

This is real. I died. I left A-Li all alone- 

The voices were louder now. Like a haze, a pair of glasses that were the wrong prescription placed over her eyes. 

I died. This is real. I died. I failed. 

You are pathetic. Another voice replied. Not her own. 

Like a switch, the swimming in her vision ended. She was sitting on the bed with the physician on her left and Wen Zhuliu on her right. They both had similar expressions of alarm, though in varying degrees: one with eyes wide enough to pluck them out, while the other showed concern with a very clenched jaw that probably would lead to a headache. 

The physician let out a breath he was holding. 

Ani wanted to speak but her throat closed, copper was the only thing she could taste. Blood. She felt it pass by her lips. The physician handed her a cloth to dab it. Maroon smeared against the white of the cloth. Did she bite her lip that hard? 

There were others in the room. Unfamiliar faces. Some held boxes filled with needles, yikes!, others holding other assorted objects that Ani couldn’t find it in her to bother placing. 

What the fuck happened? 

A Gordian knot of anxiety bounced around inside her, as if Wen Ruohan’s body was a hockey board. 

The physician cleared his throat, waving at his assistants to leave. When they were left alone, his eyes narrowed, a single crooked brow.

“Physician Wen.” Wen Zhuliu asked, getting to his feet, slipping his arms behind his back, “you said Sect Leader Wen’s core was stable.” It was said softly but goose bumps rose up and down Ani’s arms. Something, a much harder core was hiding behind a veneer of mildness. 

The physician rubbed his face, groaning into his hands. 

“It supposed to be. Now it is. It wasn’t then.” 

Wen Zhuliu narrowed his eyes, “Physician-“ 

“No. It-“ The doctor hesitated. 

Ani sighed. Whatever underlying conversation the two of them were having could be done outside of this room. Currently, she wanted them to stop prodding at her like she was a frog in a biology 101 lab and leave her alone so she can woe in peace. 

“Diagnosis?” She interrupted. 

The physician balked, straightening up, “Well..Sect Leader Wen…” he wrung his hands. 

Unlucky for him, Ani wasn’t in the mood to play beat-around-the-bush. Right now she was a mixture of pent up rage, sadness, and every feeling that usually premeditated murder. 

“Just spit it out.” She snapped. Then flinched at her tone. 

Too much.

It appeared that the universe agreed because the box of needles left beside the physician when the assistants left popped, wood and silver hell-needles rolled and bounced all over the room. 

Ani stared at the mess before looking back at the physician. She gave him her best ‘really?!’ look – a combination of a frown and narrowing of eyes that usually had A-Li stopping whatever he was doing and clean up as he was supposed to.

She wasn’t going to see him again. 

There was a loud crack behind her. Something else broke. They all turned around to find a pillar with a huge angry crack on it. 

“Are we going to sit here until everything in this room turns into dust or are you going to tell me what’s going on.” Ani finally said. She pointed at the broken box. At the pieces of vase. And then at the pillar,“next thing we’ll know is the victim will be a person.” 

The physician sighed, “This physician begs Sect Leader Wen’s patience. I suspect the answer will not be a pleasant one.”

Yes and keeping me in the dark is a better idea because I’m certainly not freaking out about the exploding objects that could kill someone at some point. 

“Does it have to do with Sect Leader Wen’s core?” Wen Zhuliu asked. There was a slight raise in tone with the last word.

What was his obsession with Wen Ruohan’s core? 

The physician ran a hand through hair that managed to get out of his bun, an eternal mood if Ani wasn’t currently on the cusp of throwing something at him. The anger issues would be concerning if not for the fact that no one tells her anything. 

He looked Ani in the eye before replying, “I believe that the spiritual energy fluctuations that are affecting the stability of your core and the environment is a combination of your cultivation level and…” he frowned. 

For fuck’s sake just say it! 

“…emotional outbursts. Anything that causes Sect Leader distress are potential triggers. The only thing that baffles me is why.” 

Well I’m sorry doctor, but realizing I died, and was somehow placed into a body of some monster who was gonna die in the future in a world I am absolutely not familiar with – I think I have the right to freak out a little!!!! 

“Cool.” 

The physician and Wen Zhuliu stared at her in confusion.

Instead of saying everything Ani thought of him, she held her tongue and stared back. 

“I’m sorry, I did not understand what you said, Sect Leader.” 

 Ani frowned. Then it occurred to her that a) she said the word in English and b)they most probably did not have the word cool in their vocabulary in the way it is used back at home. Right. Great. Just great. She’s fine. Totally fine. This is fine. 

 The physician fell to his knees, “I beg for your forgiveness, Sect Leader. I must have misheard you.”

She stared at the physician. 

“It’s fine.” Ani said immediately, shame clutching her chest. 

Wen Ruohan probably threw tantrums for less – like a two year old with the code to nukes. His trepidation around me shouldn’t be this surprising. 

Another thing to add to her ever-growing list of bullshit-to-deal-with.

The doctor looked so close to sighing in relief. Wen Zhuliu quirked a brow at her. 

Wait…was that too out of character? 

TIME TO CHANGE CONVERSATION! 

“Do you have any recommendations to what needs to be done to prevent…such flares.” Ani continued. 

The physician straightened, his hand raising to his chin. A tick her father and A-Li had when they were deep in thought. 

“I will make some tonics. My theory is your body hasn’t recovered yet, the Qi isn’t balanced,” he paused, watching Ani. Gauging a reaction. Not that she could blame him. 

Seeing as Ani wasn’t about to stab him, he continued. 

“Meditation and regulation of negative emotion should help keep the outbursts to a minimum. I ask you to give some time before returning to the training field, at least a week.”

Ani nodded as if she understood. She didn’t understand a word – there was a reason why she failed a Mindfulness course. 

The physician saluted. It took a moment for her to remember that she needed to dismiss him for the man to actually leave. Wen Zhuliu did the same. As he followed the physician out, servants shuffled in, kowtowing and getting on their knees. Their expressions very vocal of their surprise when Ani told them not to do it. The creepiness factor only increased when they replied, “As Sect Leader commands,” in a chorus. 

Ani remained seated, all too aware of the bodies moving about. The fabric of their white and red robes shifting felt like A-Li’s personalized alarm which often times consisting of pots and pans clashing while hollering at the top of his lungs. 

She needed to get out. 

The servants bowed to her as she headed towards the door near the desk.

Maybe this door leads somewhere more private? 

As she pulled open the floral dark wood door, bright light nearly blinded her, followed by a sweet odor. Ani forced open one eye and her jaw dropped. 

A garden surrounding an expansive pond greeted her. She stood at the terrace, looking at the green bushes surrounding the red painted steps with yellow blooms, and onward was a stone path that meandered around the pond covered in lily pads. Smoke trees casted purple reflections into the still water. Dragonflies kissed the occasional leaf and zipped into the air. 

It was a miniature botanical garden. 

The last time she really been to a botanical garden was with her Grandmother and Mother in Beijing. The memory has long since faded with age.

Luckily for Ani, a pair of white shoes awaited her by the door. They slipped on easily. Back home, shoes had rubber souls, while these ones definitely felt bumpy, like the shoe was made entirely of tiny soft pebbles. 

Rubber is too underrated. 

Ani looked at different blooms as she walked on the stone path. Some she could name, like the white peonies supported by wooden sticks near the terrace, and irises by the water. The other flowers were foreign to her, but she appreciated the variety of colors, all smelling sweet when she leaned over them. 

A shadowed spot caught her eye. Beneath a tree, probably some breed of oak, overlooked the pond and the entrance from which she came. Ani sat by the water, using the heavy robes to keep the grass from scratching her legs. The water was still, only wrinkled by the occasional dragonfly and koi fish that swam to the surface. 

As she scooted closer, white fabric now stained lightly with green revealed itself. Ani sighed. She just was dressed. To give the servants more work…

-they only followed out of fear. Fear of abuse. Fear that Wen Ruohan would hurt their families if they so much as stepped wrong. 

Something vile crawled up her throat. Vile, sour, and disgusting. She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. 

 I won’t stand for this.

 Even if it was a dream- 

No it isn’t. 

It wasn’t a dream. It was real. Somehow, against all laws of logic and possibility, she had woken up in a world that lay in the pages of a book she happened to be reading. 

It’s too much of a coincidence. Why here? Why this?

Ani reached out to the water, brushing the surface with her nails. It felt like water, wet and cool to the touch. Like the water at home. But not freezing, meaning it was spring. 

It was spring back home. 

Spring when she fell out of that window. Spring when she fell eight stories. Spring when her body plunged into concrete. 

No one could possibly survive that. 

Her physical body, in the realm she was from, was dead. 

I died.

I am dead.

Her vision swam. The deep blue of the pond mixed with the bright green of the lily pads into a sea of color. Her body trembled, hands shaking so much that even while her eyes swam with tears, she could see them move. 

I died falling out a window. 

I died before giving A-Li a kiss. 

He turned thirteen. 

I promised I would be there. 

I made him meringues. 

Ani clutched her hands together, nails digging into pale calloused skin. 

I didn’t get a chance to clear my name.

Mother and A-Li will think I failed.

I failed them. 

Her thoughts were disrupted by the fierce wind that spun through her hair. Waves disturbed the mirror like surface of the pond. 

STOP. 

STOP THIS ANI! 

Ani took in a deep breath, and held it. If she spiraled out of control now, there was no one around to help. 

“Deep breathes. Deep breathes Ani.” She muttered to herself. 

The wind around her calmed, and the waves became ripples that then dispersed. 

She was here, in a land that was universally different from her home. Here in the body of Wen Ruohan in the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi. 

Did he die as well? 

Wasn’t this his sect? Monster or no? 

Wasn’t this the home of his family? 

Even if right now at this very moment, she wasn’t at home; she wasn’t with her family celebrating her little brother’s birthday; if she truly has taken over the body of a man who is now dead; she couldn’t simply abandon them. She was now responsible for an entire sect. Full of people. 

 Tears managed to escape, gently streaking down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve. 

I want to go home. 

I want A-Li.

I want Mother. 

I want my body back.

I don’t want to be alone. 

I never asked for this. 

Ani clutched the silk fabric, just where the heart should be. If she closed her eyes, she could feel her grandmother’s hand over it… 

“Ani,” Her grandmother sat beside her as she wept, pulling the young child close. 

Ani glanced up through tear reddened eyes, sniffing uselessly as snot trickled out of her nose. 

“Ani, Ani, it is life.” Her grandmother held her close in an embrace and rocked back and forth. 

“Grandmother…” Ani’s voice trembled, “why aren’t you crying?” 

Her grandmother, eyes glittered like black sapphires, held her face in her wrinkly hands, soft to the touch. “Oh Ani, but I am. I will continue to cry until the day I am buried beside Grandfather.” 

Ani blinked, her young mind confused. “But why aren’t there tears?” She slowly raised her hands and touched her grandmother’s aged cheek. It was wet. 

“Oh, Ani.” Her grandmother pulled her into an embrace. 

Ani only sobbed harder, “But…but you will be all alone.”

Her hair was combed by gentle wise hands, “ Ani.” Her grandmother said again, “ I am not alone. I have you. I have my daughter and your father. I have your little brother. I also have Grandfather.” 

Ani looked up in confusion. 

Her grandmother placed a hand over her heart. “He is here. In my memories and in my heart.” She gently pointed at Ani’s heart as well, “And in you too. When my physical body leaves this world, my spirit will reside in here. You are never alone Ani.” 

 Ani clutched at the robes that wrapped around her new, unfamiliar body. It hurt. Like a sword had been plunged into her chest, removed, and plunged in again. 

Tears leaked down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve. 

Right now, she was in the body of a villain destined to die. The patriarch of the Wen Sect. 

While she sat here and cried, war could be at their doorstep. If nothing was done, her head would be placed on a pike. 

If destiny truly dictated that she was to wake up in a body not her own, then she was blessed to read the book beforehand. 

She had the knowledge to stop it. 

[starchained-blog]

whats  up  my  dudes  !!!   i  am  bee,  i’m  19  &  i  never  fuckin  learned  how  to  stop  using  this  exact  vine  reference  in  all  my  intro  posts  !!  i  will  be  playing  my  Babe  andromeda  black.  but  first  a  lil  bit  about  me  b4  i  start  2  ramble  about  andromeda:  i’m  always  a  slut  for  the  Aesthetic,  i’m  a  math  Nerd  aaaand  im  probably ??  way  too  in  love  w  fitzwilliam  darcy.  also  i  will  Always  want  to  plot  so  if  u  do  too  please  hmu  !!  nyways  u  can  find  out  more  abt  my  daughter  andromeda  under  the  cut  !!

- ̗̀✰ • 【  XU  JIAQI,  CISFEMALE,  SHE/HER  】 ❝  did  you  see  ANDROMEDA  BLACK  on  the  train  back  to  hogwarts  ?  they’re  a  PUREBLOOD  in  their  THIRD  year  as  a  TWENTY-year-old  SLYTHERIN.  apparently  they’re  the  RECUSANT  around  the  grounds;  most  likely  because  they  give  off  an  aura  of  rain  on  dark  windows,  the  heavy  sweetness  of  red  wine,  ink-stained  fingers,  a  tempest  barely  contained  within  a  girl.  of  all  the  social  media  platforms,  they’re  definitely  most  obsessed  with  their  INSTAGRAM;  probably  because  they’re  SELF-RELIANT,  but  also  INTROSPECTIVE.  however,  on  the  new  manifest  app  in  mr.  carlos’  english  class,  they’ve  already  managed  to  anonymously  steal  the  username:  NIMUE.  ❞ ┊ 「  bee,  19,  est,  she/her.  」

PINTEREST  !!

rec·u·sant  (  noun.  )   a  person  who  refuses  to  submit  to  an  authority  or  to  comply  with  a  regulation.

aka  just  a  fancy  way  of  saying  rebel  !

(  rain  on  dark  windowpanes,  the  heavy  sweetness  of  red  wine,  ink-stained  fingers,  greyish  purple  of  dawn,  cold  bones,  fastening  the  clasp  of  a  silver  necklace.  dark  curls  escaping  from  pins,  starched  white  shirts  under  wool  coats,  cold  coffee  dregs  and  burnt  out  matches  from  a  guilty  cigarette.  fog  over  the  scottish  moor,  the  soft  tick  of  a  grandfather  clock,  stars  peeking  through  an  overcast  sky,  the  stark  echo  of  a  single  violin.  the  pages  of  a  book  turning  in  a  library  past  midnight.  holy  places  long  since  abandoned,  the  simmering  wildness  of  a  bird  caged,  and  the  ancient  ache  for  freedom.  a  tempest  barely  contained  within  a  girl.  )

PRE-HOGWARTS  !!

andromeda  &  her  mother  have  what  u  can  call  a  strained  relationship.  from  her  moment  of  birth,  druella  saw  everything  andromeda  did  as  an  act  of  rebellion,  whether  it  was  a  childish  question  asked  in  the  wrong  place  at  the  wrong  time,  or  getting  so  absorbed  in  a  book  she  forgot  to  come  down  for  dinner,  or  a  bit  of  accidental  wandless  magic  born  out  of  a  moment  of  frustration.  every  day  was  a  trial  against  andromeda,  with  her  parents  acting  as  the  judge,  jury  and  executioner,  &  over  and  over  again  she  was  found  GUILTY.

andromeda  never  meant  to  defy  her  mother,  at  first,  but  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried  to  please  druella,  nothing  she  ever  did  was  quite  good  enough.  there  was  always  some  fault,  whether  it  was  a  lock  of  hair  tumbling  free  from  its  pin,  a  corset  come  unlaced,  posture  ruined  from  hunching  over  a  book.  her  wrists  were  too  bony,  her  lips  were  too  thin,  her  skin  too  easily  flushed. 

[  TW  ABUSE  ]   it  didn’t  escape  andromeda’s  notice  that  every  flaw  her  mother  criticized  was  one  druella  shared  as  well,  and  when  she  grew  older  she  realized  her  mother’s  dissatisfaction  with  andromeda  was  merely  a  product  of  her  own  dissatisfaction  with  herself.  but  that  didn’t  feed  her  the  nights  she  was  denied  dinner  for  her  ‘ misbehaviour ’.  it  didn’t  take  back  the  days  andromeda  went  unable  to  speak  thanks  to  a  punitive  silencio,  and  it  didn’t  grant  andromeda’s  wish  to  have  a  real  mother  who  loved  her.   [  END  TW  ]

did  druella  love  her  children  ? who  knows.  maybe  she  did,  in  her  own  twisted  way.  but   druella  was  first  and  foremost  a  business  woman,  and  her  main  trade  was  her  daughters.  andromeda  grew  up  listening  to  endless  warnings  that  her  mother  would  “ never  be  able  to  find  andromeda  a  husband  if  … ”  and  then  came  whichever  grievance  she’d  chosen  to  focus  on  that  day.

it  cannot  come  as  a  surprise  that  andromeda  learned  to  live  in  the  shadows,  away  from  her  mother’s  disapproving  glare;  that  she  learned  to  rely  on  herself  and  herself  only,  that  she  learned  to  watch  &  observe  &  test  the  waters,  to  think  before  acting.  (  of  course,  druella  did  not  approve  of  this  either,  and  informed  andromeda  that  no  man  would  want  a  girl  who  was  so  serious  all  the  time.  )

her  parents  often  dragged  her  and  her  sisters  to  various  pureblood  functions,  where  andromeda  stood  off  to  the  side  in  uncomfortably  starched  dresses,  disappearing  like  smoke  any  time  someone  looked  like  they  were  heading  over  to  strike  up  conversation.  she  would  explore  the  pureblood  manors,  all  silent  footsteps  &  watchful  eyes,  making  observations  on  how  the  wizarding  world’s  elite  lived  their  lives,  noting  separate  beds  in  the  master  bedrooms  &  half-empty  whiskey  bottles  in  the  washrooms.  it  seemed  like  everyone  was  only  looking  out  for  themselves  in  this  world,  trying  to  further  their  own  social  status  and  wealth.

at  home,  she  would  escape  to  the  roof  with  a  book,  whether  it  was  a  history  of  warlocks  or  the  kind  of  torrid  romance  novel  druella  pretended  she  didn’t  read,  dark  eyes  hardly  looking  up  as  the  sun  sank  lower  in  the  sky,  fingers  blackened  with  ink  by  the  time  she  closed  her  book  and  descended  into  the  house  to  face  her  mother’s  wrath  that  she  missed  her  piano  lessons.

is  it  strange  that  such  a  cynical  girl  could  have  such  a  yearning  for  beautiful  things  ?  or  would  that  merely  be  a  side  effect  of  cynicism,  to  long  for  something  to  thaw  a  hardened  heart  ?  andromeda  loved  beautiful  things,  perhaps  a  bit  too  much,  but  she  did  not  trust  them.  nothing  beautiful  was  made  to  last,  and  if  it  was,  it  wasn’t  truly  beautiful.  sunsets  faded  to  darkness,  books  ended,  lovers  grew  apart.  the  inherent  transience  of  beauty  made  andromeda  crave  it  all  the  more.  

HOGWARTS  !!

hogwarts  was  a  breath  of  fresh  air  for  andromeda,  the  chance  to  experience  life  outside  her  parents’  regime.  to  her  inquisitive,  probing  nature,  an  ancient,  magical  castle  full  of  history  &  secrets  was  paradise,  let  alone  all  the  classes  it  housed.  and  the  people  —  andromeda  had  never  seen  so  many  people  in  her  lifetime.  hundreds  &  hundreds  of  students  filled  the  castle,  all  with  their  own  thoughts  and  lives  and  desires.  an  introvert  by  nature,  she  didn’t  interact,  merely  observed.  she  made  best  friends  with  the  library  &  the  constellations,  sneaking  out  of  the  dorm  to  sit  with  her  legs  dangling  over  the  fifty-foot  drop  of  the  astronomy  tower,  eyes  finding  her  constellation,  andromeda,  and  wondering  if  her  fate  was  written  in  the  stars  too;  drunk  on  the  beauty  of  an  untamed  scottish  night.

the  unidentifiable  yearning  she’d  always  kept  tucked  inside  a  corner  of  her  heart  ballooned  until  she  could  hardly  stand  it.  it  was  a  yearning  to  be  something  more  than  the  perfect  pureblood  wife  her mother  was  trying  to  groom  her  to  be,  a  thirst  to  prove  herself  in  some  way  she  didn’t  even  understand  yet,  and  it  was  this  ambition  &  drive  that  got  her  sorted  into  slytherin.

if  druella  &  cygnus  had  thought  andromeda  was  unmanageable  before  hogwarts ,  when  she  wasn’t  even  trying  to  be,  she  was  downright  wild  when  she  returned  for  winter  break  in  first  year.  now  that  she  knew  life  could  be  better  than  what  she  was  currently  living  at  home,  she  buzzed  with  a  restless  energy  that  alarmed  her  parents.  andromeda  may  have  been  troublesome  before,  but  this  was  bordering  on  dangerous.  druella  made  the  decision  that  andromeda  would  not  be  returning  to  hogwarts.  [  ABUSE  TW  ]  this  sparked  one  of  the  worst  fights  they’d  ever  had,  and  culminated  in  a  rare  but  unforgiving  physical  beating.  [  END  TW  ]  

eventually  druella  conceded,  and  andromeda  was  allowed  to  return,  but  she  was  much  more  cautious  now.  she  only  made  friends  who  her  parents  would  approve  of,  she  kept  her  nose  clean,  and  at  home,  she  played  the  part  of  the  dutiful  daughter.  there  were  still  small  rebellions,  though  —  long  curls  cut  short  with  a  silver  flash  of  the  kitchen  scissors;  a  nicked  pack  of  her  father’s  cigarettes  smoked  cross-legged  on  the  roof,  coughing  into  her  fist  so  nobody  would  hear.  as  she  got  older,  she  paired  the  cigarettes  &  book  with  red  wine ,  the  finest  she  dared  steal  without  risk  of  being  caught.  this  was  her  escape,  her  small  patch  of  beauty  in  an  ugly  world.

andromeda  keeps  to  herself  at  hogwarts  as  much  as  she  can.  the  only  people  she  spent  time  with  were  those  her  parents  approved  of,  and  she  didn’t  like  most  of  them.  she  threw  herself  into  her  schoolwork  instead,  easily  landing  herself  a  spot  among  the  top  students.  

but  she  loves  hogwarts,  loves  it  with  all  her  heart,  as  so  many  abused  children  do  –  it’s  a  safe  haven,  a  place  where  she  can  at  least  pretend  she’s  free.  she  loves  learning  everything  that  she  can  (  in  fact,  she  was  very  nearly  sorted  into  ravenclaw  ).  her  favourite  place  to  be  is  the  astronomy  tower,  and  she  still  escapes  there  whenever  she’s  feeling  a  bit  too  claustrophobic.

she  was  chosen  to  be  a  slytherin  prefect  for  her  year  and  although  she  thought  she  wouldn’t  like  it,  she’s  grown  to  enjoy  the  position.  not  for  the  power  it  gives  her  over  her  fellow  students,  but  for  the  escape  it  brings.  she  can  associate  with  people  she  would  normally  never  talk  to,  and  roam  the  castle  freely  past  curfew.  and  andromeda  isn’t  a  naturally  nurturing  person,  but  she’s  found  that  she  enjoys  talking  to  and  helping  the  younger  years.  she  sees  their  wonder  at  hogwarts  in  their  eyes,  the  same  wonder  that  she  felt,  and  has  grown  quite  protective  over  quite  a  few  of  them.

she’s technically in slug club, due to her prowess in potions and her illustrious family name, although she hardly ever goes – she does not like slughorn at all, nor most of the people he’s selected to be in his little club. other than that, however, andromeda doesn’t make a habit of joining clubs or teams or anything that would involve her being forced to interact with people.

PERSONALITY  !!

those  who  don’t  know  andromeda  might  say  she’s  aloof,  proud,  detached,  all  flint  eyes  &  sharp  edges.  and  they  wouldn’t  be  wrong.  andromeda’s  habit  of  keeping  to  the  shadows  has  carried  on  into  her  hogwarts  years,  and  as  an  introvert,  her  solitary  nature  can  sometimes  come  off  as  downright  anti-social.  she’s  naturally  pensive,  and  her  pensive  face  just  so  happens  to  look  pissed  off.  

she  finds  it  hard  to  trust  people.  she’s  so  used  to  a  world  shaped  by  selfishness  that  she  rarely  meets  someone  she  doesn’t  suspect  of  having  ulterior  motives.  after  all ,  beautiful  people,  like  beautiful  things,  are  temporary.  everyone  turns  ugly  sooner  or  later;  everyone’s  claws  are  eventually  revealed. 

andromeda  carries  an  unmistakable  air  of  wealth  that,  although  entirely  unintentional,  can  rub  people  the  wrong  way.  she  has  a  taste  for  the  finer  things  in  life  —  an  aged  wine,  a  silken  scarf  —  and  sees  no  reason  why  she  shouldn’t  enjoy  them.  she’s  well  read  &  well  bred,  and  has  a  vocabulary  and  accent  that  can  seem  pretentious  to  some.

but  those  who  do  know  andromeda,  those  precious,  precious  few,  know  of  her  vivacity,  her  independent  streak,  her  love  of  learning,  her  dry  humour,  the  dimples  that  appear  with  every  mischievous  smile.  they  know  the  fire  she’s  kept  hidden  in  her  heart  for  so  long,  and  the  proud,  apathetic  mask  she  slips  on  so  easily  whenever  she’s  hurting.

MODERNISMS  !!

listen  as  much  as  i  love  the  idea  of  andromeda  in  a  modern  age,  it’s  mostly  just  bc  of  the  wealth  of  information  that’s  available  to  her  ?  like  staying  up  ages  watching  random  ass  videos  &  falling  into  a  black  hole  of  wikipedia  articles  &  having  12  languages  on  duolingo  and  a  streak  on  khan  academy.  fuckn  nerd  ass

but  social  media  ?  not  for  this  bitch  !!  i  really  have  Tried  to  get  her  to  use  social  media  so  i  can  do  fun  sc  threads  &  such  but  she  wont  listen  to  me  smh.  u  know  when  u  meet  someone  cute  &  you’re  trying  to  stalk  them  online  but  they  either  dont  have  any  social  media  or  it’s  just  like  an  empty  acct  with  no  posts  ?  shes  that  bitch.  she’ll  text  people  but  she  hates  the  like  ….  publicity  of  social  media.  doesnt  trust  fb  at  all  (  and  she  shouldnt  !!  zuck  shes  onto  u  )  and  probably  has  a  snapchat  someone  made  her  get  but  she  consistently  replies  like  3  days  late,  breaks  streaks,  has  a  snapscore  of  like  304.  what  a  mess.  shes  a  grandma.  understands  &  enjoys  memes  but  never  uses  them  or  references  them.  if  andromeda  black  references  a  meme  around  u  then  u  know  she  trusts  u  implicitly

she’s  wary  but  intrigued  by  this  new  english  class.  she  dreads  to  think  of  the  reaction  it’s  getting  from  pureblood  families  like  hers,  but  she  recognizes  this  for  what  it  is:  an  escape.  an  opportunity.  

she  chose  her  username  nimue  after  the  famed  lady  of  the  lake  from  the  stories  of  king  arthur  and  the  round  table.  she’d  loved  those  stories  as  a  child,  and  was  especially  drawn  to  the  mysterious  witch,  half-good  and  half-bad,  who  trapped  the  kingdom’s  most  powerful  wizard  inside  a  tree  to  gain  her  independence,  who  gifted  the  king  with  his  famed  sword,  who  was  there  when  the  great  golden  age  of  the  kingdom  rose  and  who  was  there  when  it  fell.

OTHER  !!

gender / sexuality:  cis  female / bisexual

birthday / zodiac:  jan  11 / capricorn

mbti:  intj

moral  alignment:  chaotic  neutral

temperament:  melancholic

patronus:  raven

amortentia:  dried  ink,  pine,  petrichor,  dark  chocolate

that  was  ???  ridic  long  so  bless  u  if  you  read  all  of  that  mess.  im  Too  Lazy  to  list  wanted  connections  rn,  maybe  i’ll  do  that  later  who  knows.  but  anyways  pls  plot  w  me  &  let  me  love  u  down

[sunny-explosions]

Five times kissed

@corditeheart

It’s almost midnight, and nearly all of B-Garden (it seems) is in the town’s biggest club, trying to party the night away. They all have a few drinks in them, and with the buzz that’s settling into Selphie’s mind, she spots Xu seated at the bar, no one on either side of her. To the brunette, she seems to need company; to everyone else, they probably don’t want to try to bother her. But alcohol makes her braver than usual, and she sashays nonchalantly over to Xu’s side to strike up conversation.

What the cadets probably expect to see is the two just sitting at the bar ignoring each other. What they actually see is wandering hands and Selphie daring to steal a kiss, whispering promises that she’s capable of much more when given the opportunity.

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It’s the first time that she doesn’t feel like she’s really bugging Xu with her presence, a step in the right direction when she doesn’t object to Selphie draping herself across her lap while she’s trying to read. The content silence lasts all of two minutes, of course, until the brunette decides it’s too quiet and she fills the gap with a request for Xu to give her only a few moments of her time. She pauses, as though she’s deciding whether or not to give in, but she leans down anyway and lingers with a kiss, making sure it lasts long enough that Selphie is satisfied enough to lapse into content silence once more.

It only works long enough for her to wait until Xu puts down the paper before she drags her back down.

--------------------

She’s banged up, bloodied, lucky to be alive, only half-conscious and unable to focus on more than the fact that she’s somehow made it into Garden’s Infirmary. She was three days late to return from her assignment, all but assumed KIA, and the news of her squad’s arrival spreads quickly, it seems, because she closes her eyes for what’s probably only three minutes and is awakened by Xu’s voice, filled with relief that she’s actually back in one piece. Selphie makes a snarky comment about being unable to be killed that easily that earns an eyeroll and a sigh, and Xu bends down to peck her mouth and makes her promise not to go headfirst into danger without the proper preparations again.

--------------------

They’re friends, and nothing more.

Friends who end up sleeping in each other’s beds more often than they sleep alone.

Friends who say anything they do is simply for fun, giving each other pleasure and enjoying each other’s company.

So why, when they’re laying bare in Xu’s bed, limbs intertwined and unable to keep their lips and hands off of each other, does it always feel better for it to be Xu that she spends her evenings with? Why does she feel like she wants to admit she’s fallen for a SeeD that may not feel the same?

She wants to open her mouth, wants to whisper that she’s never loved Xu as much as she does now, but she settles for conveying her feelings through actions instead, deepening her kisses and skimming her hand down over Xu’s hip and dipping between her thighs.

--------------------

Selphie’s been at this for the past 10 hours and has little to show for it, exhaustion and pain masking any kind of happy demeanor she’d wanted to have for this particular occasion. But Xu’s been at her side nearly the entire time, trying to encourage her to keep going, to keep believing in herself to see this through. And she does, somehow, powering through the pain for another hour before one final push finally lets her relax, a shrill cry echoing through the room as she falls back onto her pillows with a sigh of relief. Xu’s arm winds around her shoulders as she murmurs how proud she is that she did it, and Selphie leans up and captures her lips in a kiss, happy tears falling down her cheeks.