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sheep-from-rad · 2 years ago

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Obey Me x Filipino! Reader part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Asmodeus) Note: Tell me why I haven’t thought of this earlier? Tell me. Tears of themis is taking too long to load so I’m here typing the night away Warnings: long post ahead, food mentions, religion mentions (not much but yeah) Masterlist <Part 2: Leviathan, Satan, Beelzebub, Belphegor>

Lucifer

When he first read your file, he expected a scared religious person to come out of the portal.

He has seen countless screaming religious people thrown in the pits asking why they are being punished even though they are clean and he expected you to be one of those.

Instead you came out of the portal and stood there just waiting for an explanation as to why you were suddenly in a different place.

For a while he is a bit unnerved with your behavior, freely mingling and befriending demons in your path even though you know the consequences of it.

A part of him thinks that you might be on your way to destroying whatever hierarchy Devildom has and the other part of him mentally scolds you for being careless.

The last straw was seeing you having lunch and giving a few lesser demons head pats when they complain about the day. He asked you about why you are not scared of demons and your answer made sense.

“You know Lucifer, some people just come and go to church for their image. You should come to the human world and meet the demons there.”

He knows hypocrites and faced hypocrites but he did not expect hypocrites inside churches.

I have a headcanon that demons feed through sin and this boy is always full because of the Filipino pride. So if he skips dinner, chances are he already ate using sins and will just go for tea instead.

[ps. As a Filipino, the pride thing is cute but it is very annoying. They legit take pride in everything even if it is bad. Philippines get mentioned on a thing online like a react video? Oh Pride to be Pinoy! Did Filipinos get noticed in online news? Oh Proud to be Pinoy. Bleh]

Mammon

Mammon said he is not happy when he was assigned to be your guide but he is screaming internally

Be careful with your wallet because this guy would love to learn about the betting games and might try to run an underground betting game with you

Chicken fighting? Let’s do that next week because Lucifer is not around.

Beetle fighting? Sure, sure let’s schedule it at the back of the RAD because there are tons of students who want to participate.

Spider wrestling? Sure as long as no students will get bit

He might even try to go to human world because he heard that the lottery prize has reached P900m ($16m) and no one won it yet

He’ll find it weird that people gambles at funeral wakes but will not make a comment for it

One time the two of you actually went to the human world and he was torn between confusion and amazement because he learnt that you can bet on different types of lottery. (You and Lucifer had to pull him home at the end because he got so excited)

Asmodeus

This guy thinks he knows romance until he meets you and learn about the hopeless romanticism that runs in Filipino blood

Like Satan, Asmodeus will read about culture and history, mostly for aesthetics at first until he came across the traditional courtships and it all goes down from there

Before he knew about it he had fallen down the rabbit hole. He went from reading about traditional courtship to the fictional Bonifacio’s letter to Oryang to poets like Jose Corazon de Jesus

Oh it’s not finished yet, from literature he went to jump on music. Asmodeus listening to Eraserheads and making a cover of ‘Ang Huling El Bimbo’? Hell, yes.

He might go on his job singing at the Fall with all the songs he learnt like Mundo by IV of Spades, Magbalik by Callalily, and on top of that he might even ask for the other brothers to play with him

Asmodeus will also jump on television drama and this guy is addicted. He’ll prolly love those mistress thingy shows like ‘The Legal wife’, etc.

This guy might go to human world just to binge watch those shows including korean ones

This guy will probably see two demons in love and will just caught the famous line in Florante and Laura and everyone in the vicinity will look at him like, 'wut did the avatar said?'

And that line being 'O pag-ibig 'pag pumasok sa puso nino man, hahamakin ang lahat masunod ka lamang' which roughly translates to 'love when it enters anyone's heart, will go against all odds just to be fulfilled'

Don’t get me started on cliche wattpad stories, this guy has a collection starting from the classics like Diary ng Panget to the whole Jonaxx collection

Going back to the traditional courtship thing, he will not admit it out loud but he wishes that someone will do that to him. Wait..what do you mean harana has a whole ass structure and not just done by singing? TELL HIM MORE.

part 2 soon because I'm a bit too excited to write this.

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myvisionisdying · 7 years ago

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tfw I've been playing too much Destiny 2 that I thought when someone switched to Orisa on Overwatch I thought it said Osiris...

#umm... oops?#oh and i keep pressing down on the left stick to sprint as soldier #lmao ive been playing destiny 2 a lot recently because a friend asked if i wanted to help them #and now i know the leviathan raid like the back of my fucking hand jfc #oops i may have fallen down the rabbit hole thats destiny and yes i like it despite the flaws d2 has #but its the characters man... they roped me in and now im love them #this has been my psa #also people on here are really thirsty for shaxx like damn yall

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anneapocalypse · 3 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

Sneak peek of the current fic project.

I assume it goes without saying by now, but I have come to really love Sera Dragon Age, and have fallen down some deep rabbit holes regarding her backstory, poring over and piecing together everything I could from what we're given via in-game dialogue and those illuminating pages in World of Thedas Volume 2. (I'll get the resultant meta ported over here eventually but it's on dreamwidth if you care to read it now.)

Also resulting from that rabbit hole has been this fic, which I've had in the works for a while now, but due to [medical bs redacted] it's taken a while for me to work back up a steady writing routine again. (I never stopped writing or anything, I was just doing less regular volume, for reasons maybe I'll get into another time. Not important today!) I've been making a solid push with it for Camp NaNo this month and it's been going really well! Shaping up to have a complete draft by the end of the month and then get to revising in May, and with any luck I might be able to start posting in June.

This is emphatically first draft stuff and extremely subject to later revision, but I think it gives a decent glimpse of what I'm working on, though it's just a small snippet of the whole thing.

---

She forgets the name of who and where she's supposed to ask for. Somebody-Somebody Esquire on Whatsit Street. Has to uncrumple the letter to see.

Pissquire, she thinks. Makes her laugh at least.

Takes her a while to find the place. Been some years since they dragged her in and tried to explain why the house was and wasn't hers, how she could go on living there with the servants to mind her and have the money in bits. How it'd be "taken care of" for her, how she'd be "seen to." How "It's what may be done, in your… unique circumstances."

Right. Because you're some street elf The Lady scrubbed up and put bows on. Because you're supposed to live behind the gate across the river, if your ears point, but write it funny in the will and everyone shuts their mouth for some reason. Eat it. Take your "unique circumstances" and shove them straight up your arse.

"Yes? You've got the wrong house or the wrong day, lass, we haven't ordered coal or washing."

Sera waves the letter. "You ordered me. Blight-reclaimy-shite. You going to let me in?"

The door girl makes a pinchy face at her but brings her in. Puts her in the sitting room and says Pissquire will be with her shortly.

It's a rich house. Rich for Denerim anyway. She remembers this, but everything was bigger.

"You have a letter?" Pissquire says, peering at her over a pair of fancy spectacles.

Sera shows it.

"Oh, Miss Sera. My, but it has been some time, I didn't recognize you with your… hair, like that. Please, come into my office and have a seat. You've come to reclaim the estate, then?"

"Come to have done with it. Didn't want it then, don't want it now. Just tell me what I have to do to never hear about it again. And no more letters either."

"Ah. I… see." Pissquire adjusts his spectacles. "We may proceed with quitclaim if you are sure that is your wish. However, there is one stipulation—"

"Well, stip it out then."

"Before dissolution of the estate may be authorized, you must complete the reclamation proceedings according to the Blight Reclamation Act IV, and to do that—"

"What's that mean?"

"It means the quitclaim may not be filed and estate transferred without full legal holding restored—"

Sera crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue.

Pissquire sighs, and she knows she's won. "You must reclaim the estate before you may surrender ownship."

"So I have to take it back before I can give it away."

"Quite."

"Fine, I reclaim it or whatever. Now tell me how to get rid of it."

"According to the Blight Reclamation Act IV as decreed by the Crown, all claims must be verified in person on premises to verify status of property."

"I have to go there."

"I'm afraid so."

"Fine. Whatever. Let's get it over with."

#wip wednesday #writing stuff #writing: a pot to piss in #dragon age inquisition #sera dragon age #sera

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theprincessoffrost · 3 years ago

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Hello!! For your ask game ✨ 👻 💻 <3

Thank you for the ask! Ok so in order

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

Emotional, cathartic, comforting

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

A gravity falls fic I had been writing for a few years called Eta Ursae Majoris.

Toxic fandom was part of the reason.

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

Yes. Sometimes I will really dig around to find info I need. Other times its just a quick search.

Ive fallen down many a rabbit hole in the name of fic research.

#ask game #answered ask #thank you!

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writingbakery · 5 years ago

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“what’s new, pussycat?”

this work is my absolute pride & joy, one that i hold very near & dear to my heart! it was previously written for a different fandom, & ive reworked it to fit here. i hope you love it as much as i do, & yes - there will be more parts to this story! ✨taglist; @katsukisprincess @secondhand-trash @redbeanteax @monst @shinhoetoshi @shinsouzone @togasknifes

[pairing; panther familiar! hitoshi shinso x green witch gn! reader]

[warnings; fluff, meet-cutes, magical au, bitchy witches, soft words, strangers to lovers]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

for a green witch in a relatively small town, you’ve got a pretty good life.

you’re not the most powerful witch around; your talents are more centered around healing, crafting potions & spells, but you don’t mind. you like helping people, whisking away their problems & leaving them happier than when they walked into your little shop.

your shop is perfectly situated right at the forest line at the end of town, making it easy for you to restock your supply. you don’t get many customers, but you treat everyone like they’re most important, focusing on what they need & providing them with just what they’ve asked for. you don’t have many friends, most of the other witches not thinking much of your talents or your profession - they were all more modern witches, using electricity & technology to help others - but the ones you do have treat you nothing but kindly.

you’ve got everything you need in your little shop; a tiny apartment just above it, a loyal customer base, & the forest to soothe your worries.

the only thing you don’t have is a familiar.

you turned twenty six months ago, the age at which every witch receives their familiar. sometimes, it happens sooner, sometimes it takes a little longer. you’re just a hint impatient.

you’ve been ready for your familiar since your powers emerged at six years old, little flowers & vines bursting from chubby fingers & small palms. your friends even had a betting pool set up, sero swearing that you would get a kitty cat, & kirishima insisting it would be a rabbit.

you don’t care what your familiar is. you just want to meet them.

you’ve nagged your mother more than enough over the years, whining & complaining at your lack of a companion - both the animal aspect of them, & the human. familiars often became their witches’ best friends, & on most occasions, have fallen in love with them.

it’s a romantic concept, really. two magical beings, tied together forever by their shared powers, falling in love.

you’ve had dreams about it. kaminari makes fun of you for it whenever he can.

still, you don’t need to fall in love with your familiar. you love them already for supporting & adding to your magic, even if you haven’t met yet. you just know you’re going to be the best of friends.

you also side with sero. you’re definitely hoping for a kitty.

you alway tell your friends you don’t mind being patient, but secretly, you wish your familiar would speed things up a bit.

the other witches in town don’t tease you outright, a bit more poised than that, but you’ve heard more than enough whispered giggles of “bet it’s a fly, & it just can’t find them” & “maybe [y/n]’s just too weak for one”. you know they consider you a joke, a laughingstock, but you do your best to ignore them, burying your head in your spellbooks & inventing new potion strains.

you’re good at what you do, & that’s all that matters. but with a familiar, at least you’d fit in. you’re not expecting anything huge, not like the wolf inasa got, or the pheonix momo was gifted. you just want something that’ll care for you, help with your little tasks & fill the hole in your heart.

you even have a little side room set up in your shop for them, complete with a small fluffy bed & lots of pillows. kaminari had wrinkled his nose at the setup. “what if they don’t like all the fluff?” he’d asked - his familiar, an overexcited ring tailed lemur named mina, had absolutely destroyed the setup kaminari made for her, choosing to snuggle the taller witch in her human form every night. you had a separate betting pool with kirishima & bakugou about when those two would finally start dating.

mostly, you just hope your familiar won’t be disappointed with you. you aren’t the fastest on a broomstick, or the smartest with spells. your potions are good, but they take you a while to brew, & you don’t get that many customers. you’re definitely not the best witch in town, but you try your best, & you hope that counts for something.

it ends up counting for a lot, even if you don’t realize.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you’re looking through your little vials & plants one day, crafting a rejuvenation potion for mrs. parks - she’s got a garden to maintain if she wants to win first place in the landscaping competition next week, & at 85 it doesn’t always come naturally - when you realize you’re clean out of starflower. the pretty little orange & yellow foliage always added an extra boost to your energy potions, & you chance a glance out of your shop windows. it’s a nice day, sunny but not too hot, & you easily tug on your jacket & basket to gather some from the forest.

the air is warm, floaty with the smell of spring & you bask in the pleasant heat of the sun as you walk. the forest is unusually quiet, a sort of energetic thrum hovering just under the surface & normally, you would be concerned. but the day is so lovely, the warmth seeping into your bones & you brush it off as a slight imbalance in the woods.

you find the right clearing relatively quickly, sitting cross legged amidst the flowers & beginning to pluck them. you coo to the brightly colored petals gently, asking them to feel safe, protected. you wouldn’t hurt them, nor waste them unnecessarily. they were headed to a good purpose, & you reassure them as such as they make their way into your basket.

the already quiet air stills suddenly, birds silent in the trees & leaves pausing their ruffling. you shut your eyes & soaks up the sudden silence, an odd sense of calm settling over your body before you open them again.

a pair of amethyst violet eyes stare back at you, barely ten feet away from your face.

you open your mouth to scream, but let out nothing but air; your breath seems caught in your throat, lodged painfully deep. the creature in front of you is still, black fur gleaming glossy in the afternoon sun - a panther, twice the size of any normal big cat, sharp fangs glinting in its large mouth. you just stare, frozen & wide eyed.

the panther tilts its head at you inquisitively, letting out a sharp exhale through its velvety - almost cute? - black nose. you do scream this time, a barely there squeak that youd defend to your dying day as a very aggressive yell.

& then you pass clean out, slumping to the cool forest floor.

above you, the panther simply snorts, rolling bright purple eyes in mild annoyance as it curls its lithe form around your unconscious body, settling in for a nap.

it protects you from harm, patiently waiting for you to wake up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you wake up confused & a little dizzy.

you’ve only been out about an hour, but already the sun sits lower in the sky, a chill sweeping through the quiet wood. you’re disoriented, taking a few moments to remember where you are, & why. youre warm despite the cool forest air, body swathed in silky softness. you burrow deeper into the warmth, sighing softly as you toe the line between sleep & awake.

then you remember the panther.

shooting straight up from the dirt, you look around wildly, all traces of sleepiness gone as you take in your surroundings.

the panther lays curled around you like a warm blanket, keeping you tucked up against its shoulder with massive black paws crossed in front of your legs. it’s fast asleep, not even stirring as you shift a little to study its face.

gold runes run from the tips of each large, silky ear, trailing down either side of its face to its long whiskers. each rune matches one on your own arms, elegantly winding down your smooth skin. a little flutter settles in your chest.

this is your familiar.

you run one slim finger down the sides of the panther’s sleeping face, gentle & light as you trace over the marks that mirror the ones you’ve had since birth. it’s a little nerve wracking, a little unreal.

you’re so awestruck you don’t feel a pair of sharp violet eyes tracking your every move, looking just a little fond.

you start a little when the panther stretches, long heavy limbs arcing out into the air as it yawns. you get a good eyeful of sharp, gleaming white fangs & an impossibly cute pink tongue before the panther is staring at you again, seemingly waiting for your next move.

oh right.

hastily clambering to your feet, you stand in front of the lying animal, just about level with its head. you swallow a little nervously, shifting from foot to foot as you look up into bright, curious eyes.

“a-are you my familiar?” you ask, immediately cursing yourself for stammering & asking stupid questions. you’re supposed to have your shit together, you’re the witch here.

the panther seems unfazed, if not a little amused, as it nods once, then twice, eyes twinkling in the sunlight. your own eye twitches.

you’ve got a familiar. a panther familiar. you, [y/n l/n], who can’t fly a broomstick straight & nearly burnt down your shop crafting a potion last week.

suddenly everything seems a whole lot less simple than it was before.

bracing your hands against your knees to catch your breath, you let your mind go wild, running through a million thoughts at once. what would the other witches say? what would your friends say? how the fuck was this panther going to fit inside your house?

you don’t have a single answer for any of them that won’t send you into a panic.

your stomach ends up deciding for you, the low rumble of it breaking the tense silence. the panther actually does roll its eyes at you this time, standing to its full - very, very tall height & moving to kneel at your side. it motions towards its back a little impatiently, & you scramble to climb on.

you can feel lean, powerful muscle underneath you as the panther begins to walk through the forest, quickly shifting through the underbrush towards town.

it’s much quicker than you walking on your own, & you appreciate that.

you know you’re going to get plenty of stares once you hit town, & you’ve already got a plan set: make it through quickly, avoid questions, & once you’ve got the both of you locked up in your shop, the panther can shift to its human form & introduce themselves. simple.

the second you step foot - & paw - into the town, you know you’re screwed.

all of the townsfolk are staring wide eyed, giving the pair of you a very wide berth as the panther trots along the street. hushed whispers are already circulating, & you can feel endless sets of eyes digging into your back.

just a couple more feet, a few more moments. then we’ll be safe, you think as your shop comes into view, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. you slide down off the panthers back to unlock the door & usher it in, locking it behind you both with another relieved sigh. you relax too soon.

there, in your kitchen, sit sero & kirishima, both gaping as they stare at the massive panther in your foyer. sero’s got a teapot in one hand, the other cupping the air - a shattered mug at his feet.

“we came for tea,” kirishima squeaks. sero is dumbfounded where he stands. the panther huffs unamused, tail flicking & breaking one of the china plates along the wall.

you sink to the floor in despair.

what the fuck, is all you can think, burying your head in your hands.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

your friends take it all in surprisingly well. sero sweeps up the shattered mug & dish, kirishima makes them all tea, & you have a mild panic attack.

the panther simply curls up in a corner of the shop, avoiding everything delicate as it takes up a good chunk of the space. kirishima can’t stop staring at it, eyes blown wide as he takes in every inch of the creature.

“it’s really yours? your familiar?” he’d asked, voice hushed. you swatted at his arm with a scowl, glancing over at the uninterested panther. “stop talking about it like it’s not here! you know it can hear you.”

truthfully, however, you don’t even think the panther is listening. it has an air of disinterest clouded around it, lazily examining its paws & twitching its whiskers every so often.

sero maintains that he won the bet, much to your chagrin. “it’s just a really big cat!” he insists. kirishima simply rolls his eyes & tells him to take it up with bakugou.

it takes an hour or two, but eventually you manage to shoo your friends out of your shop, a headache building at their incessant questioning - “so what's its name? boy or girl? did it try to eat you? why is it looking at me like that?” - & all you want to do is sleep.

you lead the panther to the small side room you’d dolled up, albeit for a much smaller animal, wincing at the judgemental look you receive in return. “right, that won’t work. i mean, you could stay in my bed? it’s really big, just a bunch of cushions & blankets on a floor mattress?” you offer, twisting your fingers in your shirt a little shyly. the panther pauses, then nods again, squeezing its massive frame through the narrow staircase to follow you upstairs.

your bed - a custom made mattress that spanned nearly across the entirety of your bedroom floor - seemed to accommodate the panther just fine, and it paced around once, twice, before settling in one corner of it. its lithe form took up a good two thirds of the mess of blankets, & you can’t help but coo at the sight. it really was just a big kitty cat, although you’d probably never say it to the creature’s face.

you busy yourself with getting ready for bed, washing your face, brushing your teeth & changing into your baggy blue silk pajamas - they’ve got little yellow crescent moons sewn into them, & you swear the panther laughs at you in them - before settling between the sheets.

“goodnight, mr. panther,” you mumble sleepily, silently hoping that things would be easier to fix in the morning before drifting off to dreams.

above you, the panther huffs a little fondly, nuzzling your soft little cheek before falling asleep as well.

—

the next few days aren’t any easier.

for one, you’re swamped with customers for the first time ever, people crowding into the tiny shop to catch a glimpse of the enormous panther curled up in the corner. normally you wouldn’t allow it, but the panther doesn’t seem to mind, & everyone who walks in leaves with something - you’re making a killing.

another little problem: the arrival of your - rather powerful - familiar means your own abilities have gotten a much needed boost. everything you make is soaked in energy, & your plants are shooting towards the ceiling every other hour.

in short, you’re probably the most powerful nature witch in the country, let alone the county.

you appreciate the fact that you’re better at what you do, but it tires you out quicker, & you’re twice as busy now that you can do so much.

all of this would be reasonably manageable, if your familiar wasn’t still stuck in its animal form.

the panther’s refused to shift for the entirety of the time you’ve known it, staying in its animal form in the corner of the shop. it simply watches & observes, occasionally nudging the right vial or plant closer to you with its large black nose. it’s a cute sight, the little nature witch bustling around the shop in your emerald green robes, a huge black panther tracking your every move with a fond expression. you’ve started to get comfortable around it as well, but you would like to get to know it eventually, & you enlist kirishima’s help.

the more experienced witch drops by with an old history book one afternoon when you aren’t as busy, the pair of you sitting at the table to read up on familiars.

“it says here familiars usually shift within the first day of meeting their witch,” kiri reads from the book, squinting at the tiny text. you had shooed the panther into the garden so you could talk uninterrupted, & you watch as the large creature nips at the butterflies circling its head. it makes you smile, heart a little fond at the sight.

“it’s been almost a week, kiri,” you pout, looking up at the witch in concern. maybe it's not comfortable with me yet, you add in your head. your stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought.

kirishima, seemingly sensing your worry, ruffles a hand through your hair, a reassuring smile on his face.

“don’t worry, [y/n]. i’m sure they’re still getting used to being here with you,” the taller comforts you. “just give it a little time.”

watching as your familiar tramples your hydrangeas, looking up at the window with a guilty expression on its face, you can only sigh.

“i hope you’re right.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

nearly two months later, you’re starting to doubt kirishima’s advice.

your familiar still hasn’t shifted in front of you, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion it does while you’re asleep, a smattering of all black clothes hidden in random corners of his shop.

you still know absolutely nothing about them, every question you throw at the panther met with unblinking silence. but the panther knows all about you.

it knows which tea you prefer in the morning & evening, nudging out the right canisters with one massive paw. it knows every plant in your shop & garden, delicately ripping out whichever ones you need with sharp fangs. it knows to growl when a potion is boiling over, or huff when a customer is at the door. it even ran off a few thieves a week ago, snarling with its hackles raised at the foot of the stairs as they screamed & ran. you had given it an hour long head massage, complete with ear scratches, as a thank you.

the panther has settled itself in your shop & your life almost perfectly, a constant presence that you’ve grown fond of. but it doesn’t change the fact that they still haven’t revealed themselves to you. you feel like this relationship is ridiculously imbalanced; the panther knows you inside & out. you don’t even know their name.

still, you push down any doubt or insecurities you’re feeling, determined to let the panther come to you in your own time.

the mayor’s birthday changes all of that.

the mayor always requests a grand celebration, complete with magical fireworks, charmed balloons, singing lilies, & a three tier magical cake. normally, he only requests singing lilies & roses from you.

this year, you get a golden invoice for everything.

the mayor wants you to craft the cake, enchant the balloons & streamers, gather the singing flowers, and charm the fireworks, all in less than two days. you immediately break into a sweat.

you can’t ask your friends for help, as they’re tied up in their own town’s festivities. your only choice is to get the other witches’ in town; surely they’d help with the mayor’s birthday celebration.

surely not. they laugh you away from their shops the moment you ask, a pleading expression on your face.

“you shouldn’t need help, little dirt witch. you’ve got that powerful familiar of yours, don’t you? unless you can’t handle it,” they mock you, & your fists clench unwillingly; you force yourself to breathe.

you don’t need their help, or their disdain. you’re going to do it all by yourself.

you start with the flowers, collecting the brightest & loudest singers from your garden & placing them in charmed rainwater to keep them pristine. the panther helps where it can, delicately holding them between its fangs.

enchanting the streamers & balloons takes the better part of the day, & you’re up late into the night crafting the fireworks the right way. you fall asleep in a spellbook, the cake left forgotten till the morning. the panther simply rests its head next to yours on the table, the pair of you fast asleep until the next day.

when you wake up, the birds are chirping steadily outside, sunlight filtering in through the windows. it’s calm & soothing, & for a moment you’re at peace.

then you see the time, panic immediately setting in.

“wake up! wake up! i have to have the cake ready in four hours! it’s going to take me three just to mix the batter!” you’re running around the shop in a flurry of robes & quick spells, arms full of supplies. the panther just watches from its position on the floor, eyebrow quirked.

you’re halfway through mixing the batter when you realize you won’t finish in time.

you can’t focus on charming all three tiers at once as he mixes, but if you do them one by one you won’t finish in time. you pause, turning desperate eyes onto the panther.

“i know you’re not ready, & i didn’t want to push, but please. i need your help,” you plead. hands clasped in front of you & flour in your hair. the panther continues to stare, unmoving, as though immune to your begging.

it’s too much all at once, stress & anxiety building until you snap.

“why not! why! i get it! i understand you’re disappointed! i’m not some high tech witch in a big city, i’m not powerful! i’m weak & i suck & i can’t brew potions fast without blowing them up & i fell off my broomstick in the garden & you saw, i know! i just need help, for god’s sake! just help me, & you don’t ever have to talk to me again!” you promise, eyes watery as you burst into tears.

dropping your head into your hands to muffle your sobs, you barely register the faint whirling of air in front of you.

hands suddenly flutter over your crying form, hovering just above touching you as a low, rough voice pulls you from your misery.

“please stop crying, shit, please, i’m sorry, i swear i didn’t mean to make you cry, fuck,” you hear, & you tilt your head up, rubbing tears from your eyes.

there’s a man standing in front of you, wearing all black. he’s got messy purple hair sticking up from all sides & dark eyes, a hint of violet flashing through them in the light. there’s circles as dark as his clothes under his eyes, a familiar look on his face - like you’d seen it every morning waking up.

this ridiculously handsome man, looking slightly panicked, is your familiar. every time you’d called him a “pretty kitty” suddenly flashes through your mind.

fuck.

pushing all those thoughts to the back of your mind, you straighten up, hastily wiping your eyes on your robe sleeves. “can you stir the second pot, please? i’ll worry about the other ones,” you ask meekly, a little embarrassed now. you ignore the familiar’s prying gaze, simply muttering spells under your breath as you stir the first mixture.

the pair of you don’t speak unless it’s instructions, racing around the tiny shop to craft the magical cake. flour & sugar & icing cover every available surface as you wave your hands, whisking it all over the towering cake. you struggle a little to reach the very top, on your tiptoes as you attempt to frost the highest tier. warm, strong hands grip your waist & lift you right off the ground, holding you up to help; you blush furiously as you quickly finish.

you’re just putting the final smattering of glitter onto the cake when the mayor’s party attendants arrive to collect it. you can finally breathe as you watch them carry off everything you both had made, shoulders sagging in relief.

your familiar leans against the counter, wiping down the tables with a rag as he watches you. now that everything’s been finished, there’s no avoiding it.

“i’m hitoshi. that’s my name,” the panther - hitoshi - offers, presumably sensing your nerves. “& for the record, i think you’re a great witch. youre powerful all on your own, even without me.”

you can’t help your smile at that, a little flush to your cheeks as you sit at the table. “then.. then why didn’t you shift?” you ask softly. up close, you can see tiny freckles in place of hitoshi’s whiskers, the glossiness of his hair reminiscent of his panther fur.

the familiar shrugs, cheeks going a bit pink themselves as he stares at the table. “at first, i was just a little shy. it’s nerve wracking, meeting your witch. & then you just… passed out, you know? i was worried about how you’d react, so i decided to give you time.” you can understand that, listening closely.

“you were so nice to me, you weren’t scared at all. you scratched behind my ears & made me cleansing potions. & you let me stay in your bed, so easily. you were just…. nicer than i expected. and…. and prettier.” the familiar’s cheeks are a rosy red now, bright in contrast to his soft skin & prominent dark circles. you think it’s adorable.

“i just didn’t want you to think any different of me, you know? you liked panther me a lot, even though i kept breaking stuff, &.... i wanted you to keep liking me.” you outright coo at that, ignoring your familiar’s protests as you dissolve into giggles.

“really? of course i’d still like you, silly! i let you cuddle me! i called you mr whiskers for a solid month! oh god, i called you mr whiskers,” you whine, pouting a little. you’d called hitoshi a bunch of silly nicknames before he’d shifted, from pretty kitty to mr whiskers to sugarpaws. you’d been trying to compensate, in your defense, & hitoshi had seemed to like them.

hitoshi’s the one laughing now, smile bright as he gives you that same fond look. “it was cute. you were trying really hard,” he admits, head cocked to the side as he watches you.

you sit in a comfortable sort of silence then, simply taking in each other’s presence a moment.

“so, you thought i was pretty, huh?” you tease, breaking the silence as you move to stand in front of hitoshi. you giggle more at the flush that follows, ignoring hitoshi’s mumbling rant about “soft little witches” & “green robes & moon pajamas, that's ridiculous”, your smile growing ever wider.

you tap a finger against hitoshi’s nose, the familiar protesting in flustered panic. standing on tiptoe, you press a light kiss to the cranberry stained cheek, watching hitoshi absolutely melt.

“i thought you were cute too, pretty kitty,” you smile, turning to tidy up the pots & spellbooks & leaving an awestruck hitoshi at the table, hand frozen where you had pressed your lips.

i could get used to that, you think, giggling as hitoshi trips over himself to squish you against the counter, covering your face in kisses.

just you, your shop, & one pretty kitty.

#bnha shinsou #bnha hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #shinso x reader #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #boku no hero fluff #bnha fluff #evywrites

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soleilsuhh · 3 years ago

Note

help faye ive fallen down a rabbit hole of nct choreography analysis videos on youtube and now im in constant awe- how did we young's choreography go unnoticed??? like it literally feels alive somehow like i have no way to describe it? mad respect to them all for pulling that off and singing at the same time because WHEW-

it's been a while since i last watched choreography analysis videos; they're always so interesting and insightful ! you're right, we young's choreo is so intricate yet so fluid and smooth, the talent is immense </3 but yes nct choreographies are top-tier. even if i don't personally like some of their songs, their performances never fail to leave me in complete awe 💖

#— 💌

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puddingheads · 4 years ago

Text

Eternity || Nishinoya Yuu.

In which the small things stay with you, forever.

Warnings: Fluff with slight angst, post time skip spoilers

Word count: ~2.4k

Note: I'm finally writing a fluff fic, but I can't seem to tear myself away from angst. It's extremely minimal here though, and there's a good ending! Special thanks to @rollinguuuthunda for inspiring me to write this (since you rEFUSE to read my angst fics >:()!! And yes, I’m bullying Noya in the summary since he’s shorter than me.

—

“Nishinoya, you got hurt again?” You nagged, firmly tugging at his arms to reveal the bruises littered on his skin. They were big and angry and purple; just the sight of them was enough to make you wince.

“They don’t hurt at all, they’re battle scars!” Nishinoya, ever so cheerful and optimistic, beamed brightly at you. In the two years of knowing him, you’d never seen him bothered by the countless injuries his position inflicted on him.

“Sit down,” settling on the floor cross legged, you patiently waited for him to heed your words. There was no room for disagreement, Nishinoya knew perfectly well that you took his well being very seriously.

He never really understood why, though. He never knew why you would grimace at the new bruises on his arms, or force him into his jacket after every match, or ask if he’d eaten his lunch every time you bumped into him in the halls. (Also, he never noticed how you always coincidentally had a protein bar with you when he would say no.)

“They really don’t hurt, I’m fine!” Nishinoya said, but still sat down despite the reluctance in his voice. Why did you always have ointment in your bag anyway? Compared to him, you barely ever got hurt.

“They will if the ball keeps hitting them,” You retort, huffing quietly while you rubbed the ointment onto the purple spots on his arm. “Stop resisting.”

For the first time, he decided to take notice of your knitted brows and slight pout. Why did you seem so upset? You weren’t the one getting hurt, he’d already assured you that he was fine, and you didn’t have to care so much about him. The subtle look of concern everyone else gave was already more than enough, why did you have to go the extra mile?

And for the first time, the dots in his head started to connect. Maybe, you were worried for him. Maybe, you hated to see him injured as much as he hated to see you frown. Maybe, you liked him as much as he liked you.

“Thanks,” Nishinoya mumbled, all his usual confidence replaced by demureness.

“You’re welcome,” your voice was as soothing as ever, the immense concentration in your eyes stirring something in his chest.

At that moment, everything disappeared. The ache in his thighs, the leftover adrenaline in his veins, the thumping of his heart; everything was drowned out by the featherlight touch of your fingers on his skin.

At that moment, the weight of his arm limp in your hand and the coolness of the ointment on your fingertips told of the trust he had in you. In the warmth of his skin against yours, you felt his new vow—”I’ll take better care of myself to not worry you.”

And at that moment, all he could feel was your fingers rubbing comforting circles on his arm and your silent plea—”I don’t want you to hurt, ever.”

ii.

After days and weeks and months of the push and pull game you had engaged Nishinoya in, he finally scored a date with you. It was in the middle of summer when you agreed to meet him at the park, where the summer festival was held.

Coincidentally, it was the day of the Star Festival, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all on purpose. Only Nishinoya would choose such a day, the only day Vega and Altair were allowed to meet, to be the day of your first date. (Well, if it was on purpose, you sure hoped that you’ll still see him the next day. You didn’t want the first date to be the last, after all.)

“Noya, you’re late,” you chastised, watching him jog over to you with a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Sorry,” he laughed, tugging you along to the stands. Immediately, you were swept up by his antics and found yourself having a blast. It was just like him to easily infect you with joy and laughter, just like him to make you forget all your worries.

Spending time with him always felt like a magic carpet ride, bringing you to new places you never knew existed and making you feel emotions you never knew you could feel. It was intoxicating, and soon you found yourself drunk off the dream-like atmosphere.

After hanging your slip of paper with your wish on the wish tree, you turned to Nishinoya. For a second, it felt like a scene from one of your many dreams was playing right before your eyes. His hands firmly pressed together in a fervent prayer for his wish to come true, his brows knitted in the concentration you only ever saw when he was on the court, his lips pursed in unspoken yearning.

Silently, you wondered what he was wishing so desperately for. What more could he ask for, if he already had everything? What could the wish tree bring that he couldn’t attain with his effort?

(He wanted a lot of things, and all of them were related to you.)

His eyes instantly met yours when they finally opened. As if his wish had already been granted, a brilliant smile spread across his face. He fidgeted a little, hands searching himself for an almost-forgotten gift.

“For you,” he beamed, holding out a single forget-me-not. Some of its petals had already fallen from being jostled around throughout the evening, yet it still stood tall and proud, all its yellow and blue on display.

Taking it graciously, you could barely find the words to express the loud drumming of your heart in your chest. Before you could embarrass yourself with a haphazard word of thanks, a gust of wind blew.

The swaying strips of paper on the tree behind Nishinoya painted a meteor shower around his silhouette, adorning his already ethereal form with an otherworldly halo. Along with the wind was the smell of your shampoo, and almost as if he were one of Pavlov’s dogs, his heart instantly started racing and the tension in his shoulders dissipated.

In the wind was you, and in his lungs was the final push for him to fall down the rabbit hole. In the familiar scent of you was your wordless gratitude—”You give me a reason to smile.”

And in the wind was him, and held tight in your hands was the embodiment of his adoration. Under the full moon and colourful lights of the festival, no words were needed. In the sweet scent of the forget-me-not was his shy confession—”You make my heart pound, yet put me at so much ease.”

iii.

“I’m home,” you called out just as you stepped into your apartment and met Nishinoya’s eyes. Instantly, you recognised the nervous glint in his eyes, one you only saw when he broke something after getting carried away with Tanaka. “What did you do now, Yuu?”

“It’s nothing bad!” He was quick to defend himself, even quicker to unload the bags from your tired arms. Ever since you started officially dating Nishinoya, him being in your house on the weekends became a common occurrence.

Following him into your usually pristine kitchen, shock smacked you over the top of your head and sent you stumbling. It was a disaster zone, the counters littered with broken eggs and flour, and a mountain of dirty bowls in the sink. The oven dinged, bringing your attention to a suspicious mound inside.

“Were you baking?” You frowned, examining the crinkled top of the cake.

“Well, it’s our anniversary, and you like cake,” Nishinoya mumbled, pointedly staring at his creation. It wasn’t that bad, but it definitely made you hesitate to have a taste. “It’s your favourite kind, I’m sure you’ll like it!”

In his childlike confidence, you found yourself sighing in defeat. There was no way you could refuse when he was looking at you with so much hope in his eyes.

“Looks like we have two cakes to eat then,” you smiled fondly at him, pulling out a small box from one of the bags you brought home. “I got a slice from the bakery down the street.”

“We must be telepathic!” He exclaimed, excitedly unboxing the store bought slice and setting it next to his home baked one. The stark difference in appearance and his unabashed pride in his cake was hilarious yet endearing.

Deciding not to judge a book by its cover, you coaxed yourself to taste a fallen piece from the fruit of Nishinoya’s labour. Simultaneously, Nishinoya took a bite of the cake you had bought.

In the sweetness of the frosting and the fluffiness of the sponge cake, all Nishinoya could taste was your bashful devotion—”I only want the best for you.”

And in the saltiness of the crumbly cake(he must’ve gotten the salt and sugar mixed up again), all you could taste was his bold resolve—”I’ll do anything for you.”

iv.

“I want to travel the world.” Your fingers that were deftly twirling his hair came to a stop at Nishinoya’s sudden declaration.

“Do you have the money to go?” You asked, mind starting to wander. You’d always known that Nishinoya was a bird meant to fly, always known that Japan was unable to contain his huge dreams, always known that he would jump at any opportunity to explore the unknown. Yet, hearing it outright caught you off guard and got you worrying.

He was still young, still inexperienced, still naive. You saw these as reasons he should stay, he saw them as reasons he should go; for you were careful and he was carefree.

“I have a plan.” He replied, resolution strong in his voice. The confidence he usually emitted was now unable to reassure you, unable to drive away the darkness called unease from your heart.

“How long will you be gone?” With all your being, you wished that he would laugh and tell you it was a joke, like he always did.

“As long as it takes,” shrugging, he shifted to meet your eyes. In the intensity of his gaze, you knew he wasn’t joking. He was dead serious about it, and nothing you said would make him stay.

It wasn’t the first time you heard about his dream of travelling the world and experiencing everything he could, it wasn’t the first time you felt this helpless, and it definitely wasn’t the first time you feared his departure.

Somewhere deep in your heart was fear—a lot of fear. You were afraid of holding him back, afraid of watching him leave and never return, afraid of being away from him. But the day when you had to stop running away from the fear was bound to come; it was inescapable.

“I’m not breaking up with you, of course,” as if he could hear your fears, he continued. “We’ll keep in contact. We may be physically apart, but I’ll never leave. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“We are.” You said, mustering all the conviction you could find. Whether it was to convince him or to convince yourself, you weren’t sure.

It took weeks of preparation and arrangements before Nishinoya was able to fly off. You had contemplated if you should send him off, since you were sure to break down in tears once he stepped through the departure gates, but decided to go to the airport anyway. All for seeing him just a little more.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Nishinoya muttered, face buried in your neck as he pulled you in a tight embrace. You hoped the strength in his grip wasn’t due to a hesitance at the last minute.

“I don’t know how I’ll do it without you,” you confessed, not realising the arrows your words pierced through his heart.

In your shaky voice and shallow breaths, he heard your reluctant promise—”No matter how long it takes, I’ll always be right there waiting for you.”

And in his rare moment of silence, you heard his wholehearted oath—”No matter how far I go, I’ll always come back to you.”

Years had passed, both Nishinoya and you had grown more mature, more accustomed to only seeing each other once a year, more familiar with loneliness. But now, Nishinoya’s desire to explore has been satiated, and his journey around the globe has come to an end. He was back.

“Yuu!” The elation in your voice easily drowned out his calling of your name, earning a few glances from the passersby in the airport.

Cupping his cheeks in your hands and resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and let out a content sigh. He immediately mirrored you, basking in your presence.

“I’m home,” Nishinoya whispered, pulling away.

“You’re home.” You reciprocated, taking all of him in. He was a little tanner than the previous time you saw him, his eyes a little brighter.

For the first time since you last saw him, everything felt right. With him back, a monotony you never noticed was relieved. With you back, a stability he had forgotten was restored. Being back together brought back memories of the past and gave hope for the future. To be a tad dramatic, you never felt quite as alive when he wasn’t by your side.

Just like the love stories and romance movies, everything around the both of you faded to nothingness. For a split second, it was just the two of you in the entire universe. For that split second, nothing else mattered, since you were with Nishinoya, and he wasn’t going anywhere else.

And in that split second, he decided that it was now or never.

Taking a step away, he fumbled for something in his pocket. As he sunk to one knee, realisation settled in your mind. Oh, oh.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Nishinoya declared, eyes glazed over and smile full of anticipation.

In the glittering diamond seated atop the silver band he held up, you saw his wish hung upon the wish tree—

And in the glimmering tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded your head yes, he saw your wish hung upon the wish tree—

“Stay with me, forever.”

—

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offaeandcreation · 4 years ago

Text

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!"

Chapter 1: Holy Fucking Shit

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

Content Warnings: Death, Mourning, Dirty Jokes

AO3

On my gravestone, I want the following epithet: Murdered by heels via the eighth floor window. Gravity was a co-conspirator.

There she flew, like an outtake of 'It's a Wonderful Life', skirt flapping in the wind harder than a can-can dancer's. Ani, known to her angry mother as WanLi An, was NOT about to become the world's next human pudding if she had any say about it. She reached for the psychology department’s brick edges, anything to stop the fall that ended in concrete.

Supergirl, now’s your chance! Fulfill my lesbian dream!

As she waited for the inevitable hero to come swooping in, a familiar object flew past her like from the Rabbit Hole scene in ‘Alice in Wonderland’: the softcover book she’d been reading, glossy title flashing its Chinese characters, ‘Mo Dao Zu Shi’.

Oh ya, I could learn to fly on a sword!

She made a grab at it but missed, watching the wind sweep it away. Another possession flew into Ani’s line of sight: a pink tote bag with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on it – for A-Li. His meringues packed inside, made just for him to stuff his face with with the intention of proving that yes, he can fit five in his mouth now, all came flying out. The wind clearly wanted to take them for itself.

Those are for A-Li you air-bag!

Waving her arms around, she tried to reach for the helicoptering meringues with much gusto and much failure.The whistle in her ear might as well have been snickering.

A photograph slipped into Ani’s line of sight taken back in China of her entire family: her parents, grandmother, A-Li, days before her father died.

The wind stole the air out of her lungs. Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could while having no anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

No! No don’t do this!

Ani screamed at the wind that tore at her, at the grey sky that looked at her with no mercy.

I’m going to die. I can’t die- Grandmother, I can’t! Not now. I have to take care of A-Li–

A single tear kissed her cheek before floating in the air, too light to fall, before she plunged into the concrete.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Ani’s eyes shot open, a gasp escaping her lips. Her heart pounded into the pillows she was lying face-first in, breathing as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare.

She was in bed. At home. Safe. Her muscles relaxed, sinking into the mattress beneath-

Something hard resisted against her body, as if the mattress was more akin to a wooden board then memory foam. She blinked, allowing her hands to wander the bed, pressing and feeling against silky bedding.

This isn’t my bed-

Wait.

She shouldn’t even be in bed.

Ani lunged out for the photo, stretching as far as she possibly could without an anchor. Fingertips brushed it as it flitted into the wind’s grasp, leaving her outstretched hand empty, small. She lunged again, muscles bulging as she strained towards the closest corner. Failure. The wind howled in laughter.

She should have died.

I fell.

I fell eight stories.

I fell eight stories onto concrete.

Ani sat up, finally looking where she was lying. She was in a large bed with a thick, silky, maroon blanket – something that her grandmother would have owned.

What the fuck?

Ani looked up. Wooden beams criss-crossed above her, holding up a low ceiling made of an unknown dark wood.

Why was there a ceiling? Wasn’t I just seconds ago falling out of a building into the concrete, outside? Where no ceilings could exist?

Ani crawled towards the edge of the bed to take a good look.

It wasn’t a ceiling, but a wooden canopy, with ostentatious diamond and floral engravings, accompanied by transparent red and black valance.

Where am I?

Ani finally looked up from the bed. Her eyes bulged. Three college classrooms couldn’t have fit within this single bedroom.

Beyond the bed, a built-in nightstand had been covered in glass bottles, some small as pennies and others like glass blown art, and torn white sheets .

Bandages perhaps? I’m supposed to be in a hospital…? This doesn’t look like a hospital bed.

Beyond, silky red and woolen carpets decorated the dark floors. Across the room, a large table sat perpendicular to the wall covered in stacks of scrolls.

Some regular-old New York City hospital most definitely wouldn’t have this – a waste of space and money.

Ani blinked. Where was the IV drip? The heart monitor? White curtains? The sink? The putrid smell of alcohol and plastic? Flowers? She definitely deserved flowers. Especially after everything.

What sorry excuse of a hospital is this?! An alt-medicine hospital?Did they give me acid? Was the whole accidentally-falling-out-of-a-building-from-the-top-floor-because-why-not sequence a dream?

Ani rubbed her eyes to make absolutely certain she wasn’t indeed hallucinating. Except, her hand felt strange, as if someone attached weights to them without asking her permission. Ani pulled at them with more force, until she smacked herself in the face. She hissed in pain, glaring at her stupid hand-

What. The. Fuck.

This wanna-be-Micky-mouse-glove abomination was abso-fucking-lutely not her hand. She brought it close, staring at the long pale fingers, razor sharp nails –absolutely a lesbian hazard – and delicate wrist. It was at least twice the size of her face, and felt…foreign. Flexible, catching more air. Ani was pretty sure she could make shoes out of these hands and comfortably walk in them and with room.

She brought up her other hand in comparison. To her utter horror, they matched!

Ani closed her eyes, hoping that somehow to conjure up her smaller, tanner, lesbian-friendly hands. She opened one eye, her kernel of hope popping

Nope.

Either Ani was tripping very hard on acid to the point that her brain forgot the importance of clipped nails, or she’d fallen eight floors and needed a transplant and the only thing available were these man-hands.

Cold pooled in Ani’s gut. Ani tossed off the blankets, scrambling to her feet. She ran towards the golden mirror attached to a nearby vanity. Despite skidding to a stop, her torso continued its trajectory until she face-planted into the floor.

“Fuck,” she bit out.

The sound that came out of her mouth was not the familiar timbre of her voice. She coughed and spoke again.

“Hello.”

It sounded so wrong. Ani spoke a few more words– “Hewwo,” “Nya-Nya,” “Nico Nico Nii,” “Motherfucker,”– before taking a deeper breath. No matter what sounds she made, the voice remained low like a choral bass singer. As low as her father’s had been. Tears welled in Ani’s eyes as she slowly tried to get to her feet, head spinning.

What’s happening? Why are my hands weird? Why is my voice weird!

Even her feet were weird: pale and big like her hands. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, trickling down her back into the collar of white robes that fell to her calves. She never could afford something like this.

Nor did hospitals supply silk robes.

She brushed the robes aside as she got to her knees, her jaw throbbing, and faced the golden mirror.

The face that stared back at her wasn’t her own.

It was a face of man, with bright, unnatural scarlet eyes.

The mirror broke.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Ani flinched at the violent crack. She looked behind her, searching for whatever had broken the mirror. Outside of the table and a sliding-door that led to who-knows-where, there was nothing that could have caused the damage.

She closed her eyes, counting to ten. Reopened them. She closed her eyes, counting to twenty. Reopened them. The same unknown male face stared back at her: long oval face, messy bed-head black hair, and vivid crimson eyes, tinted slightly by the color of the mirror. Not the round face, short dark hair and eyes that she has seen in the mirror every day for twenty-three years. Not the face she preferred.

Red eyes? Seriously? Red? Hardly realistic.

Not even albino irises were this intense. She backed away from the mirror, coming into the body’s full height. At least twice her height - which explains the sheer size of her hands and feet.

At least I’ll be able to reach the top shelves without being laughed at.

The thought quickly scurried away the longer she looked at herself. The mirror mimicked every move she made. The cracks distorted her figure– no, the man’s figure.

What’s happening? What’s going on? Why am I in this body? Is this a hallucination?

Ani mentally ran through all her psychology courses until she had an idea.

Wait, there is still one more test. People who suffer from delusions often attempt to use other senses to figure out if they truly are seeing what is in front of them. So if this is all a delusion-

Shutting her eyes, Ani stuck her hand between her legs-

Yup. That was most definitely not there before. I’m in a man’s body. Confirmed.

She groaned, sinking to the floor in defeat, resting her head on the table. Leaning her head back, she noticed the scrolls wrapped in beige ribbons.

Perhaps these documents will tell me what the hell is going on.

She pulled at the ribbons, looking for something, anything that could give her answers. She scanned the unfurled parchment, noticing a collection of vertical lines, occasionally underlined once or twice that made no sense to her. Dates?

She could understand the Chinese characters, except the style was clearly more archaic, with words that would never be used in any book that would be found at home. Except the older poetry books, because poets like to be pretentious know-it-alls.

Ani looked for writing utensils, except instead of finding pencils and pens that every self-respecting person would have, she found only bamboo brushes.

‘Want to learn?’ a memory itched at the back of her mind, floating to the surface.

Her grandmother had returned from Beijing, eyes crinkling with a smile that her bright blue face mask hid. Ten-year old Ani cried out in happiness, rushing towards the open door in only her purple floral pajamas. Her father grabbed her before she could topple her grandmother with an unexpected bear hug.

‘Ani, Ani, look what I brought you,’ she said with a familiar grin the moment she pulled down her mask under her aging chin.

From a plastic bag, she removed several shiny brushes, the bamboo wood birch-yellow, polished to a shine, and the bristles a variety of browns and white, pointy like a pencil.

Her grandmother handed them to her, ‘Now Ani, these are the brushes of our ancestors, they used to work with these so long ago to make beautiful calligraphy. Want to learn?’

With careful fingers, Ani lifted one of the brushes, running her finger over the bristles and the smooth handle. These weren’t the brushes her grandmother gave her – the handles weren’t as dark nor as smooth as the wood lacked the sheen polish that modern brushes had, and the bristles were more frayed – not supported by synthetic material. These weren’t her grandmother’s brushes but-

“Am I…in the past?”

She scanned the space around her, searching for any sign of modern technology. A fireplace, a wardrobe that most probably cost at least a quarter of her tuition, mats that most definitely were made of organic material, not the synthetic fibers of the modern age. There wasn’t a single modern artifact in the room.

“I’m in the PAST?” Ani cried out, tearing at her hair, “How did THIS happen?”

Her heart beat pounded in her ears. How? How? How? How!

“Sect Leader Wen!”

Ani yelped, grabbing a bronze candle holder as the door slid open. She backed up into the mirror, glad it hadn’t shattered earlier. Assuming whatever entered the room wasn't trying to kill her, the last thing she needed was to pay for broken property just because she stared too hard at the mirror.

A man with dull robes walked in on his knees. Their eyes met and he fell into a bow, face first into the hard wooden floors.

“We are pleased to see you awake Sect Leader!”

Yes, I’m sure you are.

“Physician Wen is being notified now,” he continued. “Is there anything that we can do for you in the meanwhile, Sect Leader Wen?”

Luckily, the servant was too busy digging his nose into the floor and quivering like a vibrator to notice the way her mouth dropped along with the candle.

Sect Leader…Wen?

The name was familiar. Too familiar. She looked past the servant, above the door to the banner that decorated the walls.

The sun symbol.

A stone dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t just traveled into the past. She’d transmigrated into the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi.

As Sect Leader Wen Ruohan.

Who was destined to die.

#oc #wen ruohan #wen xu #wen zhuliu #wen sect #mo dao su zhi #wen chao #my writing

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