#return of the blossoming blade fanfiction

[azu1as]

—a tangcheong reincarnation ficlet set during the shaolin tournament arc 👍

»—————————–✄

Part 1 2 3

baek cheon didn't think much of the loud commotion being made in the audience stands as a large family entered the arena.

"huh? what's all that noise over there?" yoon jong voiced out.

the rest of the mount hua disciples turned their heads in the direction yoon jong was pointing at and they watched as people unabashedly stared at the person in the center of the group.

"you missing a cousin or something, samae?" one of the disciples joked.

the man in question looked closer to a tang than he did his own family members who walked beside him. whereas their hair were varying shades of light brown, his was dark and closer to tang soso's own color.

tang soso frowned, narrowing her eyes as she tried to peer at his features which were slightly too far to distinguish properly.

"I don't recall having any cousins in shaolin..." she mutters as yu iseol also tilted her head in question.

the man's gaze sweeped lazily across the arena. even from afar, baek cheon could tell that the man's gaze was contemptuous.

he didn't need to use his qi to enhance his eyesight to know that the gaze that was thrown towards the sect leaders' stand was absolutely scathing.

jo gul scratched his cheek. "he must be the rumored son of the zheng merchant family. see the crest on his robes?"

"what do you know of him?" baek cheon asked. he doesn't really understand why but a part of him felt like he had to be on-guard towards the strange man.

"not much," jo gul winced, "just that he's a bit older than us and that he...mildly poisoned one of the daughters of another family in sichuan."

"..."

they all turned towards tang soso.

"are you sure he's not part-tang or something?" yoon jong asked.

their conversation is abruptly interrupted by loud shouts cheering for shaolin.

the disciples of mount hua shared resolute nods as they began marching forward, letting the praises pouring out from the audience straighten their spines and walk more resolutely.

chung myung seamlessly slipped back into their fold, the money pouches he brought with him noticably emptier than when he had arrived.

it felt as if the cheers for them rang louder than those for shaolin. it was a very ovewhelming feeling and all of them could feel the pressure on their shoulders.

once again, they watch the reliable back of their sajil as chung myung finally sets foot on the stage, gazing up.

the current head of the zheng family was not influenced by the excitement that seemed to radiate from his fellow tournament-goers. rather, his eyes were locked on the face of his elder brother who he had never seen look as emotional as he did now.

there was disbelief on his face. he wore a strange expression which wavered between hope and doubt. unfathomable emotions swam in his eyes.

"ge, is everything alright?" he worriedly asked. "if you wish to leave, we don't have to—"

"no." zheng bo cut him off. "we're staying."

he shared concerned looks with his other siblings, but they silently agreed to let it be.

their eldest brother had always been distant, but he was never unkind to them.

they could never understand where the weight zheng bo seemed to always carry on his shoulders came from, but he never lashed at them.

they had never known zheng bo to be anything other than melancholic, so seeing the way the beginnings of a lively spark enter his eyes...

it was as if they were watching him transform into someone else for a moment.

"hyung...?" zheng bo murmured as he practically threw himself over the railing to get a closer look.

luckily, their youngest sibling, about the same age as the youngest second class disciple of mount hua, managed to pull their eldest brother back by the robe.

"zheng bo, what's gotten into you?" their mother worriedly clutched at him.

a string of incomprehensible muttering escaped zheng bo's lips. "...a descendant? no, he—a wife? no, as if..."

questioning stares were thrown their way from other audience members, but they were quickly distracted by the start of the deciding battle between the two finalists.

it was a battle that no one could have ever expected.

it felt too one-sided and the zheng family, as with the rest of the spectators, found themselves at a complete loss over the practically one-sided battle between shaolin's hye yeon and mount hua's chung myung.

there was heavy and glooming feeling charging the atmosphere. the previous racuous and excited cheers turned into silent feelings of apprehension and confusion.

“this is nothing compared to what mount hua has been through.”

zheng bo let out a pained, heartaching noise.

"ge," the second zheng son started, still lost. "do you know what he's talking about?"

it seemed to him that chung myung was talking about something beyond the prior slow decline of their sect.

zheng bo seemed to be too overcome with his own emotions to answer.

they all turned back their heads to the stage and were graced with the sight of a soft curve of a blade that arched beautifully, tearing apart all the golden winds thrown towards its weilder's way by hye yeon.

"beautiful..." someone in the audience behind them mumbled.

and it truly was a mesmerizing sight to see.

and it became all the more so when plum blossoms pink, an unstoppable multitude, bloomed from chung myung's sword.

tang bo crumpled where he had was standing.

happiness, guilt, and, most of all, /relief/ wrapped themselves around his heart—his heart which, for the longest time, for over three decades, had been hollowed and emptied out of any possible feelings.

"you're here too."

tang bo didn't have to be alone anymore.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Chung Myung x Fem! Reader: "100 Years and a Promise" (SFW/Part 1)

Summary: You and Chung Myung grew up in Mount Hua. At first, you despised him, then you became friends, and later in life, you realized how much you loved him. It's a shame that you're too nervous to be blunt about your feelings towards him.

Contains: Fem reader, alcohol, and mentions war. Not angsty (yet).

WC: 2,405

When you realized you fell in love with the infamous Plum Blossom Sword Saint, you cringed. You’ve known each other for decades, and you even hated him when you first met him! You thought he was the worst person you ever met, and yet here you are crushing on this rude old man. 

You realized this while you guys were goofing off. You two were sitting on a cliff hiding from Chung Mun, drinking, and conversing while the sun sets on the horizon. You’re in your eighties, and you’ve watched this sunset with Chung Myung countless times. It’s nothing new, but you still think the scene is breathtaking.

While he’s rambling, your drunk ass spaces out while listening to him. Your gaze switches between the multi-colored sky and your friend. You can’t help but notice how the warm lighting highlights his features. You stare at him with an affectionate smile and think about how Chung Myung and the sunset are kind of similar. You’ve seen Chung Myung countless times, too, and yet you still think he’s lovely. You could watch him every day and not get tired of his beau-

“PFFFFTTT-” You spat your drink into his face and start laughing at your own stupidity. “What the fuck, (y/n)!? I know my jokes are funny but that's a bit much!” Chung Myung yelled. You really just spat in your crush's face, huh? Good job, loser.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! Here, let me clean you up!” You apologize profusely while wiping the alcohol off of his face. While doing this you get a better look at his facial features, and your heart rate increases. Your eyes wander towards his, and you realize his eyes are the most beautiful shade of pink you’ve ever seen. This pink puts Mount Hua’s plum blossoms to shame, and you realize that you’re ridiculously infatuated with this man.

You accidentally pause while admiring him, and Chung Myung has to snap you out of your thoughts. “You can stop holding my face now,” he says while taking your hands off of him. You didn’t even notice you stopped wiping and started holding his face! “Sorry, I was, uh, trying to make sure I got everything! You don’t want to return with alcohol all over your face; Chung Mun would not be happy if he caught you like that!” Nice save, y/n! You think to yourself while your hands return to your lap.

“Please, continue telling your story,” You say, trying to divert his attention from what just happened. Except this time you can’t maintain eye contact with Chung Myung, and you keep looking down at your lap while he speaks to you. The scars and calluses on your hands look pretty interesting right now. Chung Myung notices your gaze wavering from his eyes and assumes you’re not paying attention. How dare you space out during his awesome story!?

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” “Huh?” “You keep staring at your hands! Is there something wrong with them?” He asks and grabs one of them. You quickly yank your hand back and start panicking internally. Just the thought of holding hands makes your face turn red, and here he is trying to grab your hand! “And why is your face so red? Are you running a fever or is it the alcohol?” He asks as he feels your forehead. “It’s the alcohol!” You blurted out. It’s like he’s reading your mind and making you nervous on purpose!

“You’re acting weirder than normal. Did you pre-game before this?” “I might’ve pre-gamed a little bit,” You give him another excuse. “Oh, everything makes sense now! You’ve had a bit too much, so now you can’t focus and you’re running hot. I thought you could handle your liquor better, (y/n). Not only that, but you pre-gamed without me! That’s against the drinking buddy code. Tsk tsk, I’m disappointed in you, (y/n),” He says all of this and pouts. You can’t tell if he’s actually hurt or if he’s playing with you. 

“I’m sorry, Chung Myung… hic, sniffle… I’ll do better next time!” You start drunkenly crying into the palms of your hands. The thought of upsetting him makes you sad, and the alcohol amplifies your emotions. “Wait, don’t cry!” He says and starts panicking. He just made one of his closest friends cry, and it looks like he doesn’t know what to do in this situation.

“There, there,” He says while awkwardly patting your back in an attempt to comfort you. “Seeing you sad makes me sad!” You blurt out while the sobbing continues. “I’m not sad anymore! Please stop crying!” After he says that, your crying starts to quiet down. “Really?” “Yes, really! Not stop crying! Jeez, you’re a handful tonight. You’re plastered, and now it’s getting dark. We should go home.” “M’Kay…” You quietly say and attempt to stand up. Unfortunately, the alcohol has made you dizzy and this is a lot more challenging than you expected. When you try standing you fall on your ass, and Chung Myung proceeds to laugh at you. 

After having a good laugh, Chung Myung picks you up bridal style and carries you back home. This closeness made you heat up even more than before, and you’d do anything to get out of this situation. Unfortunately, you’re too drunk to walk on your own, so you to let Chung Myung carry you. Needless to say, the walk home was quiet and awkward for you.

-

Ever since that night, you’ve struggled to look at Chung Myung. You want to avoid him as much as possible, but it’s extremely difficult. You’re both Mount Hua disciples, so you’re expected to live with and fight beside him. The only problem with this is that he distracts you from your tasks with his pretty face. For example, today you were sparring with one of the newer disciples. They couldn’t have been older than 13, so you were going easy on them. There’s no way a newbie could defeat a seasoned senior like you, but everything changed when a certain man walked by.

Your junior was swinging at you, but you didn’t notice because you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Then suddenly thwack! You were overpowered by a child! Not only that, but Chung Myung noticed and started laughing at you. You’ve never been more humiliated in your life. Your pride will never recover from this. 

Thanks to those events Chung Myung won’t stop teasing you during tonight’s dinner. “I can’t believe you, an eighty-something-year-old woman, was bested by a child! You’re getting rusty, old friend!” He snickered. “I just got distracted, okay? Please just drop it already!” “Tsk tsk, (y/n), that’s no good. You should know better than to get distracted while fighting. That leads to dangerous consequences.” “I know, I know!” “I think you need to relearn the basics. I mean, you were defeated by a third-grade disciple. Might as well have you train with the kids, too,” he taunts you with a ridiculously attractive smirk on his face. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to smack that smirk off your face, pretty boy!” You proclaim. Chung Myung’s eyes go wide as he asks,” Hah!? What did you just say!?” 

Oh, you fucked up. Your face and ears grow hot with embarrassment when you realize what you just said. You just called him pretty boy! You’re not lying, but now he’s going to suspect that you have feelings for him. “Are you trying to fight!?” He yells while he shoots up from his seat. On the bright side he either didn’t notice or ignored the comment, but unfortunately, your crush currently wants to fight you.

A couple of months ago you would’ve gladly said yes, because who hasn’t tried to fight Chung Myung? You’ve had a couple of brawls in the past, and some of them were just for fun. There’s no way you could do that now, though. If you tried to fight him you’d get distracted thanks to your feelings and get pummeled. You can’t even sit beside him without becoming a flustered mess, and if you got close to him during a fight you’d definitely pass out from overheating.

“Goodness, no! I was just joking. I’m not stupid enough to physically fight you, Chung Myung. Let’s just drop it for tonight, okay?” You finish that question with a smile. You’re sweating nervously, and he’s still glaring daggers at you. You know what you have to do next in order to smooth things over. You need to spoil him rotten.

You give him some of the meat that was on your plate and pour him a drink. “Here, a peace offering.” “Hell yeah, (y/n)! You know the way to my heart!” He cheers and he sits back down to enjoy the gifts he’s received. He has the world’s most gorgeous smile on his face, and what he just said made your heart beat rapidly. “If that’s what you think, then here, have some more!” You’re trying to drop hints at this point, but he doesn’t notice. He’s having too much stuffing his face and downing booze to notice your yearning glances and red face. Maybe that’s a good thing because you’ve already had enough excitement for one day.

-

Your favorite thing to do after training and chores has always been reading under the cool shade of Mount Hua's iconic plum blossom trees. You were trying to enjoy the peaceful scenery and quiet atmosphere, but lo and behold a certain man had to ruin it. Now you have Chung Myung plopping down beside you with snacks in his hand. When you see the treats you think that maybe your day hasn't been ruined after all.

“What kind of goodies are you blessing me with today, dearest Chung Myung?” Calling him that made your feelings so obvious. It's too bad he's either oblivious or just flat-out ignoring you at this point. “Tart candied fruits for a tart woman,” he finishes and offers one while snickering. You roll your eyes and pop one in your mouth. Your attention goes back to your book while Chung Myung munches on his little treats. Besides the crunching, everything is quiet and peaceful. 

After a few minutes, you grow bored of your book and decide to break the silence. “So, what do you plan on doing when this is all over?” you turn and ask Chung Myung. He looks puzzled by your sudden question,“ What do you mean?” “Well, Chung Mun and I had a conversation the other day about passing our wisdom down to the next generation. It had me thinking about life after this whole war is over.” “He had that talk with you too?” “Mhm…”

His gaze turns up to the sky and he pauses to think about his response. “I haven't given it much thought. I'm mostly concerned about the present.” “That's fair, bringing down the demon cult isn't going to be easy…” you reply. Every time that cult comes up in conversation a sense of dread pools in your stomach. Your sect has dependable disciples like the famous Chung Myung who's sitting right beside you, but you can't shake off the looming sense of anxiety. 

Chung Myung notices the pensive glint in your eyes and for a second you thought you saw a bit of concern in his. He decides to shove the subject onto you,” What do YOU plan on doing?” Now it's your turn to pause in silence. You're trying so hard to formulate a reply, but the demon cult is still occupying your mind.

You hold your chin while your gaze lowers to the grass in front of you. “Hm… I'm not entirely sure either…” your statement trails off and you look back into Chung Myung's eyes. “Hehe, maybe I'll settle down with someone and have a kid or t-” “Please do not finish that sentence.” He deadpans at you. “I'm just kidding; pun not intended!” “That pun was absolutely intended!” 

“Why shouldn't I have kids anyway?” you say as you cross your arms and huff at him. You continue,” I'm a grown woman and I can do what I want!” “You're not wrong, but would you make a good parent? Are you even interested in someone else? It takes two to tango!” “I've had decades to think about this, so yes, I think I'd make a good parent. And I've already found someone!” You exclaim and stand up from your shaded spot. Your hands land on your hips in an attempt to make you look assertive. 

“Who!?” He says as he shoots up from his spot. “It's a secret!” You smirk at him. “I'm one of your closest friends, and you won't even tell me who you like!? You wound me, (y/n),” he grabs the cloth above his heart and puts the back of his hand on his forehead. He's pretending to swoon, so you laugh at him while rolling your eyes. “You're acting like a drama queen, stop it.” “Thanks, I know my acting is amazing!” “Hey, that's not what I said at all!” “I’m joking, but seriously who is it?” His gaze is intense and his tone drops to a more serious one. 

“I'm not telling you!” “Why not!?” “Because!” “Because why!?” You sigh at his replies and pinch your nose. This conversation sounds a lot like the ones you had when you were both kids. You only have eyes for him, but you're definitely not going to tell him after saying all of that. Telling him you want to settle down and have kids, and then telling him you love him would be moving too fast!

He grabs your shoulders and shakes you as he continues,” Please tell me, the curious is killing me!” You shake your head at him. “Please, I'll never steal food from your plate again!” You deadpan and reply,“ You and I both know that's a lie, Chung Myung.” “... Yeah, you're not wrong about that,” he says as he lets go of you.

“Okay, how about this?” He grabs both of your hands and you feel your cheeks flush thanks to the contact. “I'll stop pestering you for now, but when everything is over you'll tell me, okay?” “Okay,” you sheepishly reply. “Pinky promise?” He holds out his pinky finger and you follow suit. You wrap them together and make your promise.

[mounthuatruther]

[gojosatoruwifey]

commissions isn't open yet but i'm accepting donations 📜🖋️🎀SUPPORT MY KO-FI🎀🖋️📜 reblogs are appreciated!

[klixxy]

Title: to all the days we were together (to all the days we were apart)

Fandom: Return of the Blossoming Blade (화산긔환)

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Identity Reveal (Implied)

Summary: 

“Yoonjong.” He finally says, the name coming out in a tone that is unlike him at all. Yoonjong starts, and out of the corner of Cheongmyeong’s eye, frowns deeply at the informal address. Before the other can speak, Cheongmyeong continues, eyes following the descent of a single plum flower, caught brilliant gold and bleeding red in dying sun.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Yoonjong sucks in a breath.

[thatuselesshuman]

Me trying to finish a chapter before midnight on the day of my self-imposed deadline (I'm not even going to start until 10pm):

[grubus]

When I first started writing "Shen Yuan of No Relation", I had read.... Scum Villain. And I guess you could include the comic "The Return of the Blossoming Blade" , though it's not gay and has no sword flying.

Anyway, that was it. That was all I knew about the genre of cultivation. svsss, which hardly explains enough and likes to hand-wave explanations.

Since then I've read much more, and I've found out just how different the setting can be. In some, everyone can sword fly the moment they being to cultivate. In others, sword flying is only possible if you're like one of the most powerful people ever. Swords are only swords in one, and in another they have actual spirits you can talk to. Immortals are very much there (svsss, tgcf) or they're extremely rare and near mythical (mdzs) etc etc.

And I'm sure it's very noticeable as one reads SYoNR! I've learned a lot more since I began to write, and I try to nudge in what new fun things I've discovered that I want to include in it.

But again, I began to write SYoNR after I had only ever read svsss. It was my first Chinese book to read, my first danmei book, my first cultivation book. I went from reading high fantasy and sci-fi in western settings, to that. So there was a bit of a learning process when it came to even the most simple things. I've had people who very kindly and not so kindly (though thankfully very rare) trying to correct me on several things. I don't think I'll ever go back and edit what I've written, but what I can change I try as I go along. Except Yuan. That one is there for a reason, and will continue to be there.

HOWEVER with all that, I've seen so many people say they're scared to write fanfiction for danmei because of all the Rules, or whatever. And honestly I think you should just go for it.

Fandom is meant to be fun. It's meant to be explored, and sometimes you just have to dive into it. You learn more by doing after all! It's okay to get things wrong.

I probably said all this before, but y'know, one can't ever repeat it too much.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

Mortal - Chapter 4

A Geto Suguru x fem!Reader fanfiction

Words: 2340

Warnings: none

Summary: Mimico and Nanako get into a horrible car accident after a drunk night with their friends. Geto is called to the hospital where he discovers you, a human plagued by a cursed spirit, who saved his two precious daughters' lives from the fire.. In this chapter, Suguru introduces you to the world of Jujutsu and curses.

Suguru rested on his elbow as he sipped his morning tea, his eyes fixed on your sunbathed figure. You were kneeling next to the open window, a small bowl of miso warming your palms. You gazed at the beauty of the wilderness that surrounded the lonely temple both he and you now called home. The greens of those slow summer days you trembled in the thought of insulting his hospitality had been replaced by the reds and oranges of an autumn where you brimmed with confidence and poise. And all he had to do was pluck you out from the prison of that home and allow you to blossom on your own. He had done that.

No, you had done it on your own.

"Where do you go all the time?", your voice suddenly broke the silence between you.

Suguru needed a couple of seconds to straighten out his face, enough for him to answer you. "Well aren't you curious?", he smiles confidently, "Are you sure you'd like to know?"

You lowered your gaze. Your thumbs fiddled with the belt of the blue kimono he'd given you. For the first time in his life, Suguru found himself praying. To whom, he was not sure. But he prayed and prayed to whoever listened to his tormented thoughts, to keep your lips from ever asking that question again. It was a delicate balance the two of you had achieved, and one he was terrified of breaking.

And yet, with a simple word you smashed it into pieces.

"Yes", you responded.

Suguru's smile fell. He swiftly turned his body away, pretending to reach for more tea; all so that you would not see. What would happen if he told you he went out to gather more powerful curses in order to turn humankind either subservient or extinct? You could neither see curses nor knew of the Jujutsu world's existence. And, most importantly, at the end of the day, you were a human.

A human; that thought was the most disgusting reminder that you were in fact from a different species than he. He had told himself that a number of times, yet even now he refused to believe it. There was no way a soul as wonderful as yours could ever belong to the body of a filthy disgraceful monkey. But...

"Would you like to accompany me today?", he asked with a sweet tone. The bright smile you returned to him stuck a knife to his throat. He pushed his words through the narrow passage the blade had left and forced himself to continue. "I shall meet you at the entrance in 15 minutes", he kept up the pretence as he stood and until he walked past the door.

He was playing you. He knew he was playing you. But he had to. He had no choice. He wanted, no, NEEDED you to agree to his ideals for if someone as goodhearted as you endorsed him it would convince him again that he was right. That the blood was needed. That the sacrifice was necessary. And yet, deep down he knew the truth; he knew you'd never agree with him, not if you knew all of what he did. He had to make you believe curses were real and tell you how they were created but he could never ever let you find out about his plan to eliminate them. The thought of your hatred crashing upon him burned like acid in his heart.

He leaned against the wall. His hand blindly fumbled through his blue sleeve until it retrieved a yellow telegram with coordinates. Finally, after months of searching another special grade spirit fell right on his hands. All he had to do was get to it before its location reached the ears of the jujutsu society's elders.

"Ready", your cheerful voice made his heart flutter like a butterfly under a gentle summer breeze. It had been a couple of months since he had seen you in casual clothes. Though the attire he had acquired for you to fit in with the temple's environment was regal and elegant, he could not deny the appeal of your modern human clothing as it hugged your curves without being provocative. "Is this okay?", your eyes scanned your body.

Suguru snapped out of his daydreaming. He cleared his thought, his fist in front of his lips providing some decent cover for his soft blush. "It's good", he said and began walking.

You followed him. To your surprise, he led you towards the courtyard rather than the exit. You hurried your steps until you finally caught up to him.

"I have something for you", he took out a pair of glasses with a blue rim from his sleeve.

"Glasses?"

"You'll need them", he took in a deep breath, his eyes screwed on the light blue sky. "Do you trust me?", he suddenly asked. He could practically feel your gentle smile even if he could not see it.

"Of course I do", you wore the glasses he gave you, "you saved my life."

Suguru nodded. "Whatever you see, know that I'd never put you in danger", he held your hand, "You'll probably run away though..."

"I won't", you said determinedly but Suguru did not believe you. He scoffed without providing an excuse for it. At the end of the day, you were human. He had to remember:

You were human.

An ear-splitting shriek echoed down the halls of the temple. Soon a shadow covered the bright September sun. As the darkness approached its form became clearer; two wings sprang from its body and a pair of claws reached towards the approaching ground. The new clarity the glasses gave you overwhelmed your sensible mind as you saw a creature unlike any other land in the courtyard in front of you. Its pelikan body had feathers made of leaves and branches that rustled as the wind blew past them. The creature opened its enormous beak revealing the rosey cavern of its mouth. Your eyes widened. Your feet instinctively backed away until Suguru's hand pulled you back to his side.

"My, is that all your words' worth?", he chuckled, never taking his eyes off the creature. You suddenly remembered what he had said and relaxed in his grip. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze finally turning towards you. "Huh", he smiled in surprise, "Aren't you worried I'll feed you to our new visitor?"

You frowned at him. "You're not going to hurt me", you said determinedly, "I trust you"

He seemed to be taken aback, at least for the fraction of the second he allowed you to see his face before turning it away. He was smiling to himself with hope as he hid his expression from you. When he was finally in control again, he led the two of you towards the creature. Your body trembled as your eyes looked at its open mouth, but instead of pulling away, you squeezed his hand harder. He opened his palm and let your fingers intertwine with his, basking in your warmth. He climbed in first to encourage you and gave you his hand to pull you up. Soon he was holding you firmly by the waist as he ordered the creature to take off. One look on the ground below was enough to send you to his strong arms. He was grateful for the way you hid your face so that you could not see the soft smile grace his lips as he placed his hand on your back.

"What is this thing?", you said to his chest.

"It's a traditional attire from..."

"That's not what I meant"

"I know", he said softly, "I'll explain. I promised you I would, didn't I? I just need you to be brave for me today, a little bit more than usual. Can you do that?"

You hesitantly nodded your head as you kept it away from the terrifying view that expanded outside the creature's half-closed mouth. You felt the weight of Suguru's head as he rested his chin on the crown of your hair. Your breath hitched at how your heartbeat grew after such a small action on his part. But his body was warm as the cold gusts of wind that plague the stratosphere sneaked inside the pelican's mouth, and his hand was soft and comforting as it slowly rubbed your back up and down.

"This creature that we're on is a curse", he said softly.

"A curse?", your voice came out calmer this time.

"Yes", his thumb traced small circles on your back, "There's a great deal of them in the world, but humans are ignorant of their existence."

"How am I seeing this now...", you asked before answering your own question.

"That's right", Suguru smiled at your perceptiveness, "They let you see the world as a sorcerer sees it"

"Suguru-san....", you finally pulled back a little, enough to look up to him, "Is that what you are? A sorcerer?"

He smiled and nodded. "Each sorcerer has a special technique, most of the time unique to their family bloodline", he used his finger you lift your chin, "Mine is to capture and control curses like this. Others have different ways to exorcise them"

"Exorcise? You mean they're normally harmful?", you tried to turn your head away to examine the creature, but Suguru guided your eyes back to his.

"You have nothing to worry about", he said calmly, "When I take control of a curse it can't disobey me"

At that moment the curse landed in what seemed to be an abandoned graveyard, half buried by trees and overgrown shrubbery. Suguru got off first and extended his hand towards you, but you were reluctant to take it.

"You trust me, right?", his eyes looked at yours pleadingly. Nothing could describe the relief and joy he felt when you finally took his hand.

He helped you descend from the curse's mouth. He kept you closed to him as the two of you walked around in the forest. Suddenly, he stopped, lifting his hands in high alert.

"Stay behind me", he said before a bone-shuddering scream echoed around the trees. The body of a pale woman as tall as the trees around her made its appearance from the shadows. Her nails and teeth were sharpened like knives, a trail of black dye connecting her eyes to her chin as if her makeup dripped down her skin after endlessly weeping.

"Suguru!", you pulled him away as she charged, her claws ready for attack. His eyes widened in surprise. Your fingers gripped his sleeve with a might he would never imagine you would have. Your eyes darted around at the slightest rustle of leaves, searching for the creature, as you kept his body behind yours. He chuckled to himself, a strange warm feeling overtaking him when he realized you were trying to protect him from something that was a mere trifle to him but a deadly danger to you.

As the curse made its appearance again you kept him behind you. It was too late to run so you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side as you braced for what was to come, never cowering away from protecting him. Suguru was standing calmly behind you, trying his best not to chuckle. He lifted his hand and after a while, the curse turned to a golden mist which concentrated into a small black and gold orb in his hand. He placed his other hand on the shoulder of your shuddering form.

"It's over. We're fine", he said.

You opened your eyes in surprise and quickly examined your unharmed body. "H...How...? What happened?", you said before jolting your body towards him, "Are you okay?"

Suguru chuckled. "I'm fine", he offered you the small orb, "See? She's trapped now. Under my control"

Your eyes examined the defeated curse as a feeling of deja vu tingled your body. "You did this before....when we met", you said, "One of these suddenly appeared in your hand....did I...did I have curses?"

Suguru caressed your hair. "They're gone now too", he said calmly, "Don't worry about it"

He took the sphere back and turned his back on you so that he could gulp it down in secret as you were lost in your thoughts. He tried to keep silent, but he could not help the grunt of disgust that escaped him at the overwhelming taste of the special-grade spirit he had just captured.

"Are you okay?", you run to him. He was glad to see the worry in your eyes as they darted around his body, tirelessly trying to figure out what pained him. It was such a curious feeling, to be someone worth worrying for. He did not remember the last time he...

"It's fine, I promise", he said calmly.

"Is this what you do then?", a blush crept on your cheeks, "You go out to capture these creatures?"

Suguru nodded.

"That's...incredible Suguru!"

He was stunned. He thought you would be angry or at least scared of him if he showed you his world. He never thought....

No. That was not what you were talking about.

"What makes you think so?", he said even though he was not prepared for the answer he knew was inevitably coming.

"You must have saved so many people Suguru!", you smiled warmly at him with an admiration that poured acid over his heart, "Like you saved me". You wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him close to you. "Thank you Suguru", you said, "Thank you for keeping us safe"

His smile fell now that you could not see it. He numbly wrapped his arms around your body too, letting his right hand rest behind your head. He could not tell you. He could never, WOULD never tell you. Now he knew you would never understand. But he could not part from this warmth either. He needed it like his body needed the air he breathed.

"You'll always be safe", he said but neglected to mention that he was not using plural, "I promise"

You were not human. He refused to believe it. You could not be like those monkeys he had grown to hate. What you were, was his, and that was all there was to it.

He tightened his embrace around you.

[ao3feed-fengqing]

The phenomenon of unrequited love

by Your_Shijie A collection of fanfiction about Unrequited Love in different fandoms. Words: 2928, Chapters: 5/?, Language: English Fandoms: 화산귀환 | Return of the Blossoming Blade (Webcomic), 魔尊也想知道 - 青色羽翼 | Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know - Cyan Wings, 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Relationships: Baek Cheon | Jin Dongryong/Cheong Myeong, Lee Songbaek/Jin Geumryong, Zhongli Qian/Shu Yanyan, Wenren E/Yin Hanjiang, Fēng Xìn/Mù Qíng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Additional Tags: Unrequited Love via https://ift.tt/BER9XaL

[generalluxun]

Fanfiction: Reciprocation Chapter 5

Summary: Felix returns to Paris to attempt and secure the services of an ally, then execute his plan to free himself from his Uncle's grip forever.

Author's Note: We're almost through Act 1! As always, comments and even critiques are welcome. Full text after the break, link to my AO3 where this is posted in my bio. I hope you enjoy.

Felix : I will be in Paris this afternoon, I will be available.

Chloé : Really? We should meet up! There's so much going on right now! I'll fill you in on all the details! Where? A new restaurant opened up last week that hasn't had a chance to disappoint me yet.

Felix : The hotel is fine. The company is the important thing.

Chloé : Of course! You are so right! We can have room service and sit on my balcony. It's the best place in all of Paris to watch little people going about their business.

Felix: No one else, just the two of us.

Chloé : Felix! Well, I suppose I can arrange it. I'm ever so busy you know, but I will make time for you. It can't be for too long of course. Busy, so very busy with my peers.

Felix : Two o'clock, give me fifteen minutes of leeway before you worry.

Chloé : Two? Oh I'll pencil you in. A nice early afternoon tea. It'll be fabulous, utterly fabulous. I'll be sure everyone is out by the time you arrive. Text me if you are early and I will see about hurrying them along! Ta ta for now!

Felix had been in position since one. A small camera drone sat on the ledge of a nearby building, providing him an excellent view of the balcony. Felix himself was tucked out of sight a block away, observing.

Chloé had been on her balcony even before he arrived. She had rearranged furniture three times; she had gone in and come out wearing different outfits, four. The only other people Felix had seen were the waitstaff setting out the tea service at a quarter to two.

It was now ten after. Chloé had been on and off her phone repeatedly in the last ten minutes. She had primped and fidgeted, pausing only to call at a knock at her door. Felix himself had arranged for this message, letting her know he would indeed be a few minutes late. He observed as she posed with excessive disinterest until she realized it was staff and not himself. She berated the bellhop quickly before returning to fidgeting.

Perfect. Felix set the drone to fly south until it ran out of power or crashed into something. He pocketed the control and his phone, straightened his cuffs, and headed into Le Grand Paris.

He strode through the lobby with a comfortable surety. Everything was going to plan. Which was why he couldn't account for the sudden inspiration that had him flick his hidden blade out as he passed an arrangement on the way to the elevator. A pass of his hand over the blooms, the blade was out and back without ever being seen. In its wake, a single blossom and its green stem were left free in his grip. Felix frowned at the flower for a moment before continuing on.

His knock at her suite was greeted with a faint but clear, "Come in."

He stepped onto the balcony to that same image of casual distraction he had seen on the screen minutes ago. She was the perfect picture of French dissolution. Her long blond hair was down, straight with gentle curls around her shoulders. A powder blue sundress with a wide white collar was cut close-fitting and short. Fetching and impractical heels on her feet, and with a gesture she revealed nails painted in gradients of sky blue to round out the image. The effect lasted for mere seconds.

Chloé was up out of her seat and approaching with arms spread wide. Felix braced, but surprisingly she checked herself at the last second. She brought her arms in and folded them. He was able to pick out the effort in her stance at restraining herself. "Felix! You made it! How good of you to come, though really, where else in Paris can you go for good company?"

Felix relaxed, having tensed for nothing it would seem. To cover his adjustment he held out the flower. Why did it have to be a rose? "Of course, it would have been rude of me not to visit. Whatever my fool of a cousin may have done, it is not between us, right?"

Chloé took the rose, her voice aloof as she brought it to her nose as if there weren't two dozen in a vase back in her foyer every day. "Definitely not. Let Adri-nobody do whatever he wants. Come, have tea, and we will chat."

She might try to play it off, but autonomic responses didn't lie. Chloé's pupils had dilated the moment he offered the flower. Her body language was full of little primps and tics that signaled just how effective the impromptu gesture had been. Felix felt a familiar satisfaction at having the target on the hook so quickly. Disconcertingly, he also felt an unfamiliar one at seeing the intensity of her reaction.

Tea was accomplished on autopilot. Felix had endured company of all kinds alongside his mother at tea time. It could be said in Chloé’s favor that she was, at least, very animated when it came to the affair. There were many ‘dead fish’ when it came to conversation. Those who could not hold small talk, and yet could not endure the comfortable silences Felix preferred.

Felix spent more time observing, biding his time, than he did actively engaging. Chloé seemed content to hold both sides of a conversation with little encouragement. Still, phrases and moments stuck with him unexpectedly.

The sun hitting her hair at just the right angle, igniting it in a spray of shimmering gold as she covered her mouth in one of her ridiculously over the top laughs.

That name from before, Lila, popping up over and over as she spoke. The shift from nothing to most prevalent was striking.

At one point she refilled her cup halfway, dropped in three sugars -something he knew she did not take in her tea- placed it on a saucer, and held it out to her side for several seconds while regaling him of her mother’s plans for a summer line. Pausing for breath she looked over and seemed to startle at the cup’s position. She set it down quickly, as if it might be a viper, and pushed it away from herself. She did not pick it up again.

Abruptly, the tempo shifted. Chloé aimed a madeline at him and said in a non sequitur to her previous comments. “So, Felix, why are you here?”

Felix was nonplussed. He’d been following her flow, he thought, but this, a jarring shift to business. He picked up his cup and sipped to buy time. “Whatever do you mean, Chloé? Didn’t you say it yourself? We can maintain cordial relations no matter what my cousin has done.”

She took a bite from the cookie, leaving a supremely distracting crumb at the corner of her mouth. “I did, and for me that’s enough. However as you so vehemently declared, you are Felix . You don’t set foot in Paris for a minute longer than you have to, without a reason.”

The picture should have been a clue. Felix forced himself to reevaluate his approach. He matched her body language, copying her lean in and smug conspiritous expression. “You’ve become more observant. That is quite the new development. I think I may just like it.”

True to form, she preened at the compliment, fluffing the curled ends of her hair. “Lila has been teaching me all about how to tell if someone is telling the truth or lying to you. She says I’m a natural.”

“I’ll have to meet this Lila…?” Felix fished.

“Rossi, Lila Rossi.” Chloé supplied. “Her mother is an ambassador. She models for Gabriel. She once spent an entire year in Africa helping at a wildlife preserve alongside her father. She’s quite the young starlet about town.”

Felix filed that name away. “I see. Well, since I can hide nothing from you anymore, I suppose I should come clean.”

Chloé leaned in again, elbows on the table in her excitement. Once more Felix felt that illogical satisfaction at the intensity of her reaction. “Do tell, I’m all ears.”

Felix steepled his fingers and held the anticipation for a moment more before beginning. “I need your help.” Pause for explosion…

“My help?! Oh Felikins, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t need to come all the way to Paris for that. What are friends for, right? I’m not the Mayor’s daughter for nothing. If I can put up with all those horrid parties with all those crusty old men fawning and pawing, then I might as well get something out of it, and I can share that something with my peers.” Her voice dropped from the expected heights into unexpected lows. “We are peers , right Felix? I’m only supposed to associate with my peers. ”

Something was at play, something unaccounted for. To Felix’s ear her pain was genuine, which was one of the very few things about her that could be considered as such. That space for satisfaction turned to unease and prickled the inside of his skull. A drastic measure arose and was executed before good sense could examine it.

He placed his hand, palm down, between them on the table. “We are, Chloé.”

As if from outside himself, Felix saw her reaching naturally for his hand, but as before she checked herself. Regret had just enough time to hope, then she completed the gesture slowly, laying her hand atop his. He breathed out. It was stupid, it was childish, it was a gesture no sensible person would execute or accept. It was not how he lived. There was an overload sensation tied to it, a burning that he knew was entirely psychosomatic. Felix forced himself to endure.

Chloé’s hand gave his a little squeeze. He looked up and saw hope in her eyes, but quickly dashed. She pulled her hand back suddenly, stuffing it under the table and looking away. He failed to suppress a shiver of relief, or a strange lingering disquiet that followed. Why did she withdraw?

She collected herself. “So then, peer . What is it you want?”

There was no venom in her voice, but something else. Something Felix could not track, though he found himself wanting to. He did not like unknowns. More pressing concerns took precedence though. “Something you are uniquely able to provide: time.”

She stared blankly at him, and Felix felt some small part of the world right itself. In his mind he picked up the scattered pages of his prepared speech and began anew.

“I am here in Paris to accomplish something. To do it, I must have Shadowmoth distracted. I need to know when he will be distracted, and I need to be sure it will be for a good length of time. What better way to accomplish this than to have him busy with one of his petty akumatizations? How to be sure of when and where it might happen, though? He is inconsistent and the quality of his work is spotty at best.

However, you Chloé, seem able to draw his eyes to you almost on demand. Your akumatizations are diverse and, history indicates, often quite powerful. You have all the qualities needed to make this work. So tell me Chloé,” Felix spread his hands, finishing with Adrienesque innocence that had served him on many occasions, “Will you help me?”

The speech was calculated to play to her ego. The complex cadence of his arguments left her visibly struggling to understand what he was asking; that was calculated too. Felix needed her to agree. If she didn't, this trip was a waste.

Eventually a self-satisfied smirk turned up her lips, he rejoiced at his eventual success.  “You want me to get myself akumatized, Felikins?”

He folded his hands on the table. “No one else will do. I need someone who can last long enough for me to finish my work.”

Chloé puffed up. “Ladybug? And that silly cat?”

Felix shook his head. “There is no need to defeat, or even engage them, unless Shadowmoth becomes irate. I need him distracted, and nothing more.”

Her smirk grew more malevolent; that small new part of him growled in displeasure. “So then, this is really just about playing a prank on stupid Shadowmoth?”

Righteous indignation let slip, “More than a prank, much more.”

Chloé actually caught him. “Are you going to tell me what?”

Exposed, he slipped into bargaining. “After I have succeeded, I will share with you. Call me superstitious. I do not wish to discuss it until it is accomplished.”

She gave him a disbelieving ‘hmph’ at that, but turned thoughtful, which surprised him. She looked out over the Paris skyline in the bustling afternoon. “I won’t ever be Queen Bee again, but you’re saying I can still stick it to Shadow lame . Is it something that’s really gonna make him mad?”

Felix was filing things away faster than comfortable. A simple exercise had suddenly opened far too many lines of inquiry. His answer, though, was sure, “He will be absolutely furious with the results.”

Chloé turned back, clenching one well manicured hand into a fist under her chin. “Then count me in.”

The first great hurdle cleared. Felix tilted his head, ”There is one more thing.”

Chloé sat back, folding her arms in a genuine pout this time. “Of course.”

He let it slide, trying to smother that little voice that was snickering at that pout, not mocking, but in amusement. “I need you to keep this, all of it , a secret. You can gloat all day in your head. I’ll make the whole ordeal worth your time however you like, but I need you to never speak of it to anyone, ever . I am putting more faith in you than many would deem wise, is it justified?”

She didn’t answer right away. She looked at him, away from him, back, and again. Her curls swished her shoulders each time, spilling forward and back. She sat up, blue eyes boring into him with an inquisitive intensity. In lieu of an answer, she reached out and laid her hand on the table, face down. Her eyes flicked down to that hand, then back to him.

Bloody woman. History rose up within Felix to rail against the idea of cunning behind those eyes. Cunning was not her way. Cunning was something above all these addled fools who circled his cousin. Cunning was… attractive.

Felix’s stomach turned at the notion. Candlelights, serenades, long walks, and whispered words battered him with the club of popular media. It was meaningless frivolity beyond boring. However… that damned voice suggested, what harm is there in simply recognizing value where it exists? Value. Value in this teeming mass of creatures, a society of genetic accidents? Ha! The mere thought sent his already primed mind to imagining the act of genetic propagation. No.

The voice pointed out: It’s a hand.

It was. Five slender fingers stretched out; he could cover it completely with his own. Felix looked up and realized his trip within himself had taken real time. The cunning had receded and in its place, uncertainty. She began to withdraw her hand.

Two minutes , the voice whispered.

Felix reached out and laid his hand on hers. He closed his fingers across her palm loosely. He had no idea what he was supposed to do after that.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to know. Blue eyes closed, a smile he had never seen before ghosted across painted lips, and her slender hand turned up, gripping his in return for but an instant before letting him go and withdrawing.

“Alright Felix. I’ll keep my mouth shut, for once in my life.” She flicked her nails at him. “Just don’t ever ask me to do it again.”

The sheer… everything … of it all balled up in his gut and Felix… laughed. He was giddy, uncertain, concerned, amazed, but most of all- he was feeling. He was feeling, and it was something other than pain. Chloé laughed in response to his laugh, and he laughed all the harder for it. It wasn’t entirely a good laugh, but enough of it was for it to be a moment he would remember, even years later.

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

Felix stretched and shook out his arms in the murk of the Paris sewers. The scramble through his hidden access was not a thing to look forward to, but he was ready. He took out his phone, habitually scanning the last few lines of the conversation to be sure he had missed nothing.

Chloé : This thing is hideous you know.

Chloé : It's square and boring and goes with nothing I have.

Felix : It wasn't a concern. It will light up when I am ready, and again when I am done. Destroy it after that if you like, it will serve no other purpose.

Chloé : You really need a woman's touch, Felix. Stoggy British Gentleman isn't much fun out of smoking rooms or British TV shows.

Felix : Focus, woman! This is important!

Chloé : If I was focused, you wouldn't be talking to me.

He hadn't answered that one. There was such a bluntness to it, he did not know how. It was… not true, but also not untrue. He hadn't examined it too closely. He needed everything for the moment at hand.

He put his phone away and pulled out a small, and admittedly, boring, square device with a single button. Freedom.

Felix pressed the button and began his scramble.

The passage felt tighter. He chalked it up to adrenaline. He was ready for the narrows this time at least. Pushing his satchel through ahead of him, he deliberately hyperventilated with the knowledge that he would make it through this time. He blew out his air and shoved himself breathlessly through.

He navigated the drop and shimmied down the slope, moving quickly and confidently. At the opening, he entered new territory. He scanned first for visible changes; none. Felix took out his pneumatic spike and took aim for the rocky platform his aunt's chamber was perched upon.

Paft . The spike sped across the gap, trailing a thin cord. There was no disguising that sound nor the sharp impact as it struck home. He yanked hard, testing the grip, and, with the luck of the righteous, it stuck fast on the first try. Felix secured the other end with a rock hammer then shimmied out along the cord.

It bowed under his weight, traveling light meant pushing weight limits, but it only needed to hold for a one way trip. His focus served him well. He hand over handed his way across steadily, even after he felt the spike shift in its anchorage. Once across, Felix transferred himself to the rough side of the platform, seeking out handholds he had no way of mapping. It was only a five meter climb, but he was checked twice, lacking handholds to progress. Determination sent him back down and around, seeking another path up. The notion that there might be no way up was not entertained. It wasn't useful.

On the fourth attempt he managed to pull himself over the lip and flop onto the platform. How long has it been? Too long? Ladybug and the Cat are resourceful. I am wasting time! Felix pushed himself up. The urge to check his phone for a newscast was intense, but it would only be time spent not accomplishing his task. You couldn’t stop an oncoming train by staring at it.

He lifted the bag he’d tethered to himself and pushed through the incongruous greenery, scattering pale butterflies as he went. Six devices, spaced across the platform, would hopefully be enough to be convincing. A seventh was placed at the edge. All were readily visible. They needed to exist and be understood. He hoped none would be needed, or at most one. The setting was oddly anticlimactic, automatic from so much practice; arm, set, anchor, repeat. Five minutes time and his anticipation turned into a sour chemical stew for his brain to swim in.

His hand twitched toward his phone. He wasn’t in position yet, but the voice whispered: It won’t hurt…

Dropping his bag over the side of the walkway to the elevator, Felix opened up the newscast. Ladybug was front and center of course. That was a good sign; it wouldn’t be action shots if the battle was already over. He called the elevator, and it came without incident, the last great hurdle he had foreseen. He stepped onto the platform and took out the—still boring—signal device. As the elevator rose, he pressed the button. Now to face my uncle again, one monster to another.

[azu1as]

dumb rotmhs fanfic idea: one hundred years after his death, tang bo reincarnates as the son of a wealthy merchant family in shaolin.

—basically, a tangcheong reincarnation ficlet set during the shaolin tournament arc 👍

»—————————–✄

Part 1 2 3

the zheng family was the leader of a wealthy merchant guild in shaolin. while they were not on the same level as the hwang, they were still influential enough for rumors to run amok.

And rumors always circled their eldest son.

zheng bo was as much of an enigma to his family as he was to those within their village. he had always been a quiet child but, one day, something happened that /changed/ the then five-year old.

the zheng family's son cried tears upon tears. he was absolutely inconsolable. his small body shook, overcome with emotions so heavy that his entire body was painfully heaving.

and when he woke up, eyes bloodshot and distant, it was as if the childhood spark in his eyes disappeared along with his tears the previous night.

off-handedly, his father noted the history book that was dropped haphazardly on the floor. several of its pages were scrunched up terribly.

the zheng partiarch mistook it as his son's desire to learn martial arts, but quickly learned the opposite as his son glared at the instructor with so much vitriol it was poisonous.

no matter how many instructors he sent his son's way, he all turned them back—uncaring whether they were decades-long martial artists, instructors of renowned ones, or teachers from the shaolin sect itself. if anything the latter worsened zheng bo's mood to the nth degree.

ashamedly and with deep regret, both the zheng patriarch and matriarch had to give up on their son as they realized the teaching him how to inherit their merchant guild was a futile endeavor. zheng bo would rather stay cooped up in his room in complete silence.

the zheng family had three more children after their eldest yet none of their births affected the dark veil of mourning that shadowed their eldest brother.

A veil that no one could ever seem to lift.

other families often asked after him, most in hopes of marrying off their daughters, but the zheng matriarch stiffly laughed them off.

they had tried once to set a play date with another merchant family's daughter, but it ended up with her in tears and vomiting with an upset stomach. the same occured with the next and third ones.

they catch zheng bo slip a vial with an unknown substance back into his sleeve and understood the lengths he would go to avoid such a thing from happening again.

many years go by and their second son inherited their family's merchant guild, much to the confusion of many.

it stirred up interest in zheng bo. rumors went around about his inability to perform his duties as the eldest son; some said that he was actually a bastard which was why he was overlooked.

former servants and workers from the zheng family whispered about the eldest son's madness and how his mania could not be cured by even the best of doctors and healers.

but as with all rumors and public interest, it died down when no new information sprung forth.

zheng bo was simply a crazy son who was better kept within the walls of the zheng estate than be let out for fear of what his madness would lead him to do.

when the shaolin tournament began with warriors and fighters from the ten great sects and other notable families, the zheng patriarch tried to urge zheng bo to attend and simply watch the battles with the rest of the family.

zheng bo scoffed at him.

their second son placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulders and suggested that they just let him be, "the winner has already been decided. i'm sure eldest brother would end up bored."

but the world had a funny sense of irony.

mount hua was the competition's dark horse. they were nigh unstoppable, flicking away their opponent's swords with absolute ease and twisiting around them as if they were falling petals themselves. it was an unexpected but amazing start to the competition.

as the finals approached, discussion about the upcoming fight between mount hua's divine dragon and shaolin's hye yeon run rampant outside of shaolin's walls. inside the zheng estate, no one could stop talking about the unexpected showing from what should have been a fallen sect.

tang bo, by chance, overheard the praises heeped on mount hua's divine dragon who had beaten everyone he had faced undeniably and soundly.

a part of him felt guilty that he had been too overwhelmed by his own grief and pain to even step out and check on his family and hyung's sect—especially after what he had learned about the aftermath of the battle against the demonic sect one hundred year ago.

so felt a strong wave of relief at the knowledge that mount hua had regained its footing somehow and that it was doing well enough to receive awed praise.

he felt imensely grateful towards whoever this divine dragon was because he seemed to the center of mount hua's revival.

tang bo idly wondered if chung myung was berating him in the afterlife. he asked him to take care of tang bo's family, but couldn't offer the same for his sect, he imagined that the other man would just exaggeratedly roll his eyes and tell him to start doing better then, you bastard.

and so tang bo, for the first time in a decade, knowingly chose to leave his room and approach his second-life father first.

thirty years was a long enough period to mourn, even if his heart still aches with regret.

but tang bo supposed supporting mount hua's divine dragon in the finals was a start.

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Chung Myung x Fem! Reader: 100 Years and a Promise (SFW/Part 3)

Summary: More angst! Mostly with mourning and stuff. Enjoy! :)

Contains: Fem! Reader, angst, alcohol (shocker), uhhh I'm too tired to think of anything else rn

Word Count: 3,590

After a few weeks, you started to settle into your new life. This body is weak compared to your previous one, but thankfully you’ve caught up with the brutal training routine. Thanks to your newfound strength, you can finally explore the mountain like you used to. It’ll be nice to get some fresh air and reorganize your thoughts. You’ve been trying to process every traumatic event that’s happened, but you’ve been struggling to find the time to sit down and reflect by yourself. You’re almost always surrounded by disciples or busy with chores, so alone time has been few and far between.

Thankfully, you’ve completed all of your tasks for the day and earned some free time.

You plan on using that spare time to relocate some of the spots you used to hang out at. They're quite steep, so you haven’t been able to reach them until recently. You’re curious to see if they stayed the same or if they’ve fallen victim to time’s cruelty. 

After hiking and climbing for what felt like forever, you’ve finally reached the area where you and Chung Myung used to drink. This location has a lot of merry memories that leave you feeling bittersweet. Thankfully, it hasn’t changed much over the past century. The sameness makes you feel at peace and content. The trek up the mountain is ruthless, so you sit on the cliff's edge to take a breather from wandering around. Saying Mount Hua is steep is an understatement, and trying to scale it could easily exhaust someone with average strength. They’d probably pass out if they attempted to climb as high as you did.

Looking over the horizon, your breath is stolen by your home’s heavenly landscape. The sun is hiding behind the mountain peaks, and its gilded light is pouring over the trees. It’s as glorious as it was a hundred years ago. You longed to see this nostalgic view, just like how you currently long for your past life. You still mourn for everything that was stolen from you and your sect, and you yearn for the life you could’ve had. 

Trying to process everything exhausts you, so you lie down on the comfy grass while you brood. The greenery is still as comfortable as it was one hundred years ago. A sigh escapes your lips while you cross your legs and lean back, holding your body up with your arms.

It’s still difficult to fathom everything that’s happened to you. You lived a decently long life, but you can’t help but feel unsatisfied by it. You fought, killed, and died but it feels like it was all for nothing. You guess your struggle and sacrifice were worth it; it did ultimately lead to the demon cult being taken down. It’s not fair though. Everyone you held near and dear to your heart fought so hard but ended up dying, and to add salt to the wound your sect was almost destroyed. The way everything ended makes your blood boil, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. Your hands ball up into fists in frustration. You’ve started holding back tears, and controlling your emotions is starting to give you a headache. It'd be nice to let it all out.

Your eyes start to burn as tears finally trail down your cheeks. You’ve been suppressing this for far too long, and the grief-induced heaviness in your chest is excruciating. You can’t tell what hurts worse; being stabbed to death or grieving your loved ones. Pretty much everyone you grew up with and cherished died on that battlefield; stuck eternally in a mass grave that you can’t even visit. They didn’t deserve any of this, and it’s sickening. 

While looking up at the sky you inhale the fresh mountain breeze and attempt to regulate your emotions via breathing. Your sobs finally cease and your breathing slows, but honestly, it’d be better to feel nothing at this point. The emptiness would give you more solace than all of the frustration and sorrow you've felt for the past couple of weeks.

Something or someone disrupts your thoughts when you hear rustling in the bushes nearby. You’re not in the mood to investigate; you’d rather just continue sitting here and being depressed. Still, you try to keep an ear out just in case. 

You close your eyes and try to center yourself via meditation, but you can’t due to the noise pollution. You close your eyes and try to concentrate, but the sound is oddly familiar. Familiar enough to pique your interest. Your ears catch wind of footsteps followed by a particular pattern of slashing. You’re certain it’s coming from a blade, and the pattern sounds eerily similar to one of the techniques you learned in your past life. That’s impossible, you think, because those techniques were lost hundreds of years ago. There’s no way someone would know them in the present day.

The noises continue, and they’re starting to pester you. You came here to reflect in silence, and now there’s some punk ruining your peace and quiet! You also can’t help but feel curious about your interruptor. Could it actually be that technique? I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check… You think as you get up from your comfy spot in the grass and follow the sound waves. 

After sneaking through some shrubbery, you finally find the source of the sound pollution. There he is, the bane of your existence. It’s the raven-haired twerp that’s been bothering you since you arrived here. His dedication to his training is admirable, though. No one takes their improvement more seriously than him, and he’s displaying that dedication right now.

Ugh, he even fights like him. I swear he’s haunting me at this point. You’re deep in thought until you witness him execute more techniques with the same skill level as an old master. His movements are lethal but beautiful, and watching him would leave anyone captivated. While getting bewitched by his movements, you notice the air is suddenly clouded in a pink haze, and plum blossoms begin falling from the sky. 

“I fucking knew it sounded familiar!” You accidentally burst out loud, ungraciously blowing your cover in the process. It’s a good thing you’re a swordswoman and not an assassin; you’re terrible at sneaking around and would be dead during your first day on the job. The boy’s movements suddenly halt as his gaze snaps towards your direction. You’ve been caught stalking red-handed, and you have no idea how you’ll escape this situation.

“Who’s there!?” He yells while pointing his blade in your direction. You might as well fess up at this point. You announce your presence while walking out of the bushes with your hands in the air. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you say as you inch closer to him. “I do have a few questions, though.” “Alright, spit it out,” he replies while glaring at you with caution in his eyes.

“So, the move you were just doing-” “You didn’t see that!” “Yes, I did, now stop trying to hide it. I know what it is! I’ve seen it before!” “No, you haven’t!” “Yes, I have! That’s the twenty-four-strike plum blossom sword technique!” You yell back at him. His eyes widen in shock, and you can’t tell if it’s due to your harsh tone or the fact that you actually know that technique. The technique was supposed to be lost to time, but somehow there are two people in this day and age that know it. This raises more questions, and you’ve decided to interrogate this guy. It’s long overdue, anyway.

“I’m sorry if that sounded harsh; it’s been a while since I’ve seen it. It holds a lot of memories, doesn’t it?” You ask, trying to confirm if your theories are true or not. You’re going to pry as much information out of this guy as you can, even if it causes any negative emotions to resurface. “What do you mean by that?” He inquires, and his voice sounds a little shaky. “Well, y’know…” “No, I’m afraid I don’t,” He replies to your hesitant response. 

“Well, I learned it years ago from an old mentor,” you skirt around what you really want to say. “Oh, and who was that mentor?” “You know who…” “I know?” “Oh my fuck, you know, Chung Myung! We learned from the same person, or do you not remember? I’ve been dropping hints for weeks, but you’re not taking them! I can’t tell if you’re blissfully unaware or just acting like you don’t know me. Either way, you’re irresponsiveness towards me is cruel and it stings,” you viscerally react to his response. You’ve been mourning, and the stress from this situation makes you feel like you could crumble at any second. Or level mountains, both would feel good right now.

Your eyebrows furrow, your lips involuntarily twitch downward and there’s a sharp pain behind your eyes from holding back a brand-new wave of tears. Either he’s acting like a dumb ass, is an actual dumb ass, or you’re completely wrong. You’re wrong and you’re entirely alone in the world; reincarnated a hundred years later with no friends or family by your side because they’re all dead and gone. Just the thought of being alone in this world makes you crack under pressure. Your chest tightens as you try to continue, but your voice is failing you,” I know you aren’t just a random boy named Chung Myung, you’re the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. The man I knew and befriended over one hundred years ago.” The shaking in your voice intensifies and your eyes start to get glossy again while you ask,” Am I correct?”

His eyes grow wider and he stares with his mouth slightly agape. “Don’t stand there, answer my question, dammit! Am I correct?” You ask while raising your voice. You’ve made it painfully clear that your emotions are heightened thanks to the volume of your voice and the cracking in your sentences. 

“Yeah, you're right,” he replies calmly towards your heated outburst and starts making his way towards you. “And I'm going to assume that you're (y/n), my friend from a hundred years ago and the bane of my existence?” “Yes… but was that last part necessary?” “Maybe.” 

A sigh escapes your lips while the tightness in your chest starts to loosen. After weeks of dancing around this confrontation, you finally feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off of your shoulders. A sniffle escapes while you rub your eyes, and you suddenly ask,” Can I hug you? Just to make sure you’re real and not a grief-induced hallucination?” “Is the latter a common occurrence?” He asks and you can’t tell if he’s serious or not. You just snort and reply,” Goodness, no. I might be unstable, but I’m not THAT unstable. Not yet, anyway.” 

He gives you a smile that’s so soft it’s almost unbelievable when you remember how aggressive he was during his previous life. “Go ahead, then,” he says and you squeeze him hard so you know he’s actually here. You may have lost most of your loved ones, but he is alive and well. Having him in your arms solidifies that fact and you hold him tighter as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear at any moment. “(Y/N), you’re going to suffocate me, please loosen up a bit,” he struggles to get that sentence out and your grip on him eases.

You refuse to let him go, though. Your face buries into his chest and you try to hide your face from him because you can feel the floodgates open. Your eyes and nose are leaking and you know you look like a mess, but you struggle to care right now. Every god-awful emotion you’ve felt lately is finally being released, and you have at least one person who “survived” those tragic events. The only thing you care about is the person in front of you, and the fact that you’re no longer alone in this world. 

He awkwardly pets your head in an attempt to comfort you; he may have softened after a hundred years but he’s still not an expert in emotional support. At least he’s trying. After some therapeutic sobs, you let go of him and fix your face. “I think we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” he asks, and you nod while smiling up at him. “Yeah, this has been long overdue,” you reply, and you’re beyond elated that you finally get to sit down and talk to your old friend.

-

Five years have passed, and it’s safe to say that you’ve settled into your new life. It’s especially comfy thanks to Chung Myung’s presence, and you’re beyond thankful that after all of these years, he’s still by your side. You don’t know what you’d do or how far you’d get without him.

He’s beside you right now, and you can’t help but bask in his presence while you pour him another drink. Apparently, he’s been hiding this bottle in his floorboard for a few months, and decided tonight would be a great night to sneak off to your room and share it with you because he’s so “benevolent and generous.” Those were his words, not yours. 

So here you both are, sitting on your bedroom floor, faces flushed and trying to suppress your giggles so you don’t wake anyone up. Imagine the scandal you two would cause if someone walked in right now; two disciples getting drunk together in the bedroom. It’d be wise to keep your voices down. It’s a difficult task, especially since Chung Myung won’t stop sharing embarrassing stories about your fellow disciples. Well, they’re embarrassing to them but hilarious to you. They’d probably throw a fit if they heard what you two were talking about.

The current victim of your mockery is Baek Cheon. Chung Myung met him before you reincarnated, and apparently, he was quite annoying before you arrived. “Honestly, his attitude was so pompous. After everything he did, it was pretty satisfying to beat the humility into him,” he commented and bottomed another cup of alcohol. “I bet! I might start calling him little froggy after that.” “Please do, I’d love to see the look on his face!” “Don’t tempt me; you’re a bad influence!” You reply in between giggles and fill both of your cups for the umpteenth time tonight. 

After finally quieting down, you take another swig and admire the man sitting across from you. He’s sitting with his legs crossed while you lean your back on the side of your bed. Thanks to the sun retiring, the summer air is comfortable and the atmosphere is overall light-hearted. When you sit your cup down all you can think about is how thankful you are for this moment. You haven’t felt this tranquil and laid-back in ages, and your favorite person in the world is in front of you and not six feet under. Life is pleasant, you think.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, you realize that you were spaced out, and you’ve been staring at Chung Myung with that goofy smile again. You also notice that he’s uncharacteristically quiet and looks as if he’s in deep thought. The candle that sits between you two had burned out a while ago, so the only thing illuminating your room was the moonlight pouring through your open window. It’s surprisingly bright tonight. It’s bright enough to cast a slight shadow, and you notice this when you try to stand up.

You stumble of course; you’re never sturdy after having so many drinks. It’d be difficult for Chung Myung to notice this considering how hard he was staring at you, so he sits up on his knees and attempts to stabilize you. As soon as he holds your forearms, he pauses again and keeps gazing at you.

The moonlight surrounds you like a halo, and despite your shadow consuming the man in front of you, you can’t help but notice his mouth is slightly agape. You’ve never seen Chung Myung with this expression; his eyes are taking you in like you’re the most stunning painting he’s ever seen and his mouth is slightly parted as if he’s entranced. He looks at you as if you’re the most important person in the world. This expression is kind of cute, you think, and you’re grateful for the low lighting because you’re certain that you’re blushing in response to his expression.

“I need to tell you something,” he suddenly blurts out, killing the silence that had continued for a painfully long time. He rushes to his feet and places his hands on your shoulders. Since he’s standing, the light is finally reaching his face and you can’t help but notice how red it is. It should already be a little flushed thanks to the alcohol, but the red is definitely brighter than it was a few minutes ago. Adorable.

“Spit it out, then,” you finally reply. His eyebrows furrow, and despite his visible nervousness, he says,” I think I’m in love with you.” Your eyes grow wide for a second until you remember something very important; you’re both drunk. “You think? Chung Myung, you’re drunk. I think it’s high time you went to bed,” You comment and try to push him off, but he has a tight grip on you. Thanks to physics, your pushing has led to both of you falling onto your bed. Chung Myung is below you for a second time tonight while you accidentally straddle him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to push you that hard. Here, let me get up and-” “Please don’t leave me,” Chung Myung cuts you off and presses you to his torso. His eyes are sad, almost like a puppy’s, and his hug is getting tighter. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again, and considering your shared past it’s starting to make you feel guilty.

“I love you-” “Chung Myung, don’t-” “I love you and I don’t want to lose you again,” he states and you could’ve sworn you heard his voice crack at the end. Thanks to the last part, your eyes are becoming glossy while you’re fighting back tears. You didn’t want to leave him and you’re technically not at fault for your untimely death, but you still feel guilty about it and you might make your best friend cry again.

After composing yourself you raise from his chest and hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you’re feeling a lot of emotions right now, but you’re drunk.” “Drunk minds speak sober thoughts,” he’s quick to retort. You can’t help but give a curt sigh in response; this man is a handful. You stand up and offer your hand to him. “If that’s true, then you can tell me again tomorrow. Now get up so I can take you to your room,” you tell him to get him to cooperate. He quietly takes your hand and you pull him up, stabilizing him when he finally attempts to stand.

You start making your way towards his quarters, and you’re hand in hand while he follows you like a lost puppy. He’s drank more than he normally does; it’s a shame you didn’t notice until recently. If you kept an eye on him you probably could’ve avoided this situation. You can’t help but feel a little somber after that conversation. Being confessed to is nice, but those words won’t carry any weight until he’s sober.

When you finally arrive at your destination you open his door and try to let go of his hand, but he has an iron grip on you. You drag him into his room and quietly shut the door. “Chung Myung, you’re gonna have to let go so you can go to bed.” “But I don’t want to…” he wines like a big baby. It’s time to try and level with him again.

“Why is that?” You ask. “Because you’ll disappear as soon as I let go,” he replies, and when you look into his eyes you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. Since when did he have such sad eyes!? “I’m not going to disappear, I promise.” “You promise?” “Mhm,” you reply in order to console the drunkard. The sooner you get him to bed, the sooner you be alone with your thoughts.

“Do you pinky promise?” “Yes, I’ll pinky promise. I’ll even sit beside your bed so I’ll be by your side all night,” you add. He finally perks up, which is a positive sign. He should finally start cooperating. You lock your pinkies together and afterwards, you usher him towards the bed.

“Now, go to sleep so we can continue this in the morning, okay?” you ask and he nods. You open the blankets for him and he finally lays down. You pull them over his chest and tuck him in; making sure he feels comfortable and secure while he falls asleep. For some unknown reason, his attitude makes you want to dote on him.

You sit down on the floor, lean on the side of his bed, and say your goodnights. He falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. His sleeping face is cute, you think, and all you can hear is his shallow breathing and little snores. Your head feels fuzzy as you lose consciousness thanks to being lulled by Chung Myung’s sleeping noises.

[ranpoautism]

Full of love and silliness

Sunny or Feu but you can literally name me whatever you want. Gay Oriented Aroace, Tmasc Genderfaun 🏳️‍⚧️ Autistic & weird silly guy syndrome who uses a lot of parentheses including for actions to punctuate sentences (spins around in office chair)

Suffers from Schrodinger's writing paradox (am I writing fanfiction am I not who knows not me)

Father-mother-parent-thing of a bazillion fictional characters, married to many, many more

(These are being directly pulled from my followed Tumblr tags, Ao3 bookmarks and owned books and video games as I have been in way too many to count and generally enjoy a lot of media)

Video Games : Honkai : Star Rail, The Legend of Zelda, Kingdom Hearts, Persona 3-4-5, Splatoon, Undertale, OMORI, Minecraft, Kirby, Twisted Wonderland, Sky : Children of the Light, Our Life : Beginning & Always + Now & Forever, The Sims 4, Hollow Knight

Animangas : Witch Hat Atelier, Fullmetal Alchemist, Kaiju N°8, Blue Lock, Bungo Stray Dogs, Case Closed : Detective Conan & Magic Kaito, Vanitas No Carte/The Case Study of Vanitas, Wind Breaker, Blue Period, Black Butler

Webcomics : Solo Leveling, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint, Return of the Blossoming Blade/Return of the Mount Hua Sect, I'm Not That Kind of Talent, Trash of the Count's Family, The Novel's Extra

Books : Percy Jackson, MXTX works (more focused onto SVSSS, somewhat TGCF, and less MDZS as I have not read it but know a lot from friends) (the whiplash between PJO and danmei lmao)

Miscellaneous : Danny Phantom, Linked Universe, Vocaloid, Marauders, DC Comics (more focused onto Batfam centered media), MCU (focused around Spider-Man and Moon Knight)

#sunny's shitposts - shitposts

#sunny's rambles - ramblings

#sunny's silly oc - original character related

#sunny's writing stuff - collection of things related to writing, also #sunnys ramblings but I didn't like the missing apostrophe

#sunny's asks - answered asks

#sunny's thoughts - random thoughts

#sunny's favorite fanarts in general - beautiful heavenly art I think everyone should look at

#my wife - reblogs of whatever fictional character I am enamoured with

#sunny's favorite Jason Todd fanarts - self explanatory

[ivyines]

Hello to all the new visitors, welcome to my account.

Here you can find fanart, writing prompts, edits, matching icons, incorrect quotes, and much more content of my ships and fandoms.

If we have any of the fandoms in common, feel free to like this post, comment or follow me and i will check out your profile for some of the content!

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

My fandoms include:

Anime

Naruto (franchise)

Yu-Gi-Oh (fracnchise)

Banana Fish

Sk8 the Infinity

Mob Psycho 100

Spy x Family

The Disastrous life of Saiki Kusuo

The Millionaire Detective - Balance Unlimited

My Hero Academia

Death Note

Buddy Daddies

Webtoons / Manwha / Manhua / Manga

Trash of the count's family

Lookism

Noblesse

Viral Hit

19 Days

Your Throne

The Remmaried Empress

Welcome to demon school iruma kun

Villain To Kill

Eleceed

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

The Greatest Estate Developer

Return of the Blossoming Blade

Get Schooled

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures

The World After The Fall

The Breaker 3: Eternal Force

Manager Kim

Other

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Marvel

DC

BTS

Anthony Padilla

Corpse Husband

Alice in Borderland

Uncanny Counter

Fear Of You (BNHA fic by SleepwalkersQueen)

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

If you're looking for something specific here are the tags I'm starting to use:

For writing: #ines ivy writes ✍

For ideas: #ines ivy's ideas

For fanart: #ines ivy draws

For headcanons: #ines ivy's headcanons

For edits: #ines ivy's edits

For my ships: #ines ivy's ships

For memes: #Ines ivy's low-quality memes

Matching icons: #ines ivy's matching icons

Incorrect quotes: #ines ivy's incorrect quotes

Some of my favorite reblogs: #Ines_Ivy's favorites to reblog

Mood boards I created: #ines ivy's mood boards

Playlist that I made: #Ines ivy's playlists

Fanfiction recommendation: #Ines ivy's fanfic recommendation

For asks: #Ines ivy's asks

For photos with text over them: #ines ivy's text post memes

For new content I'm starting to watch or read: #ines ivy reads / watches

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

I have many ships so check reblogged tags to find some of my favorites :)

P.s. if by any chance someone is trying to reach me but I'm not responding, pls try my side blog @lawyer-of-shinyo-takami because I'm usually active on one or the other.

︵‿︵‿ .❀✿❀. ‿︵‿︵

❕PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG AND ADD YOUR OWN UNRELATED TAGS ❕

[introversiontherapy]

Warning (Original Fiction)

Image: "Automat" by Edward Hopper

Rating: Mature

Word count: ~520

This is in celebration of the one-year anniversary of my return to writing. There is a fanfiction partner to this piece: "Again". Though they both tell very similar stories, these two are unrelated, other than some overlapping themes/metaphors. I wanted to publish works for both of the genres I write in.

My style has evolved unrecognizable from a year ago, it's definitely unconventional but very much my own. Thank you to everyone who has read my work, your support means a lot, more than words can describe.

Taglist: @claranidala @sak-am8 (I am honoured to call you my friend) @thelaughingstag please ask to be +/-

“I’ve never had my heart broken.”

“Really? I have.”

It was a rainy evening, the kind of weather best for life-changing events. Because without rain, tears fall short of their meaning.

A shower, sideways. It was six o’clock, but the shop window fogged with the thick loneliness of eleven. Smeared by the downpour, it made the fog into a blanket with holes. Useless, and being held onto purely for sentimentality. Inside the cafe, the rush of seconds-long conversation hung on racing steam, the chatter, a white noise ambience for words hidden in plain sight.

A song played on the stereo system. A man and a woman singing in tandem, an angular voice rippled on a rounded femininity. The bass of it made shy waves in two cups of beverages sitting on the table. A table for two.

Mornings used to smell just like this, like tea on the inside of coffee. And now, a tea drinker has no need for a coffee machine. He cupped his hands around his drink, a fertile ochre red, he guarded it, and sipped, cherishing the beauty of its perishability. She looked at the liquid black hole staring back at her, its sober sinking her face. Hands knotted on her thighs, they held onto each other, like lovers should.

They sat together, for the first time since it all happened. Awkward silences replaced by even more awkward small talk. He tried to grab her with his eyes, but hers kept flying past, as if she could wet the ground even better than the rain.

The crash of dread weighed down whatever heart she had left. A clearness seen through the dark. And she sat, waiting to be punished.

A tea and a coffee. A man and a woman. A blade and a wound. And it was the wound that bloodied the blade.

“I loved you. I think I still do.” She heard his voice without looking, blinded to the impact of this crash. She sighed, a burst.

“I’m...sorry.” He heard her voice, and saw. She seemed as fragile as she was strong, like a crumbling glass castle, bearing the brunt of the wind’s cherry blossom promises.

“Are you?” His cup clinked on the table, with a little too much force than he meant to. The tea made a stain of a circle on cheap wood, it was perfectly imperfect, and with a stubborn permanence.

Like a scar.

She closed her eyes with a wish to be blind. And tried to turn deaf to his voice ringing a bleeding tone in her ears. She tried to talk, but her lips grew tired of lying.

“You left me in pieces, and I will never be whole enough to do it again.” Tea emptied. He left.

She did not look back, and stared at the coffee he ordered for her, untouched. A broken heart offered to be seen, not felt. The crash, a monsoon. Her tears came shooting down in naked rain. Stifling choked cries, a burning coal squeezing. The crowded bustle of the cafe dialling loud, suppressing her selfishness, and ignoring the warning of smoke.

****

Author’s notes: Inspired by real-life events.

[emscribblings]

Hi, Tumblr! I’m not actually new to Tumblr, but the last time I was on it was 2012, which… yeah, I don’t think it counts anymore. This is also my first time venturing into Tumblr’s writing community, and I’m super excited to be here. I don’t really know what I’m doing yet, but hopefully I’ll figure it out!

A little about me, personally:

23, she/her, Malaysian-Australian, ADHD-PI.

Full-time job hunter.

I write OG fantasy, short stories and flash fiction,

I also write HP fanfiction on FFN.net and AO3. My username is also ‘emscribblings’, but it was formerly ‘kyella14’.

I have an unhealthy addiction to webtoons, specifically in the Isekai subgenre (current favourites include ‘I’ll Be the Matriarch of this House’, ‘Solo Levelling’ and ‘Return of the Blossoming Blade’).

Writing is my passion, and my goal is to become a successful fantasy novelist in the (hopefully) not-so-distant future. I just have to fight my ADHD every step of the way to get there 🙃

I don’t really plan on having my Tumblr blog be a writing blog specifically, but it’s definitely going to have a lot of writing-related content—both stuff that I see on Tumblr and sharing my own works. I’m trying to write more and hopefully make some writing friends along the way (hint: please be my friend).

About my writing:

I love writing fantasy, particularly set in premodern/medieval times.

My primary WIP is tentatively titled Road to the Empyrean.

It follows the story of Aefa, a young woman serving as a priestess of Cion in the Ffanian Empire. Change comes when one of her Sisters vanishes, leaving behind her infant son after extracting a promise from Aefa to protect him. But the boy’s—and Aefa’s—survival depends on his existence remaining a secret. As war brews, Aefa may have to choose between her own survival and the survival of a child she never wanted.

Road to the Empyrean is proving to be really interesting as a world-building adventure. Some themes I plan to have feature heavily are: sexuality, sexual freedom, feminism, colonialism, cultural imperialism, etc. 

My other WIP is a LitRPG work. I’ve trawled through dozens and dozens of webtoons and manhwa. All female protagonists are always involved in some sort of romance manhwa in a Victorian-era high society-type setting. All male protagonists are in action webtoons where they get stronger by fighting monsters in gates and dungeons, etc. And goddammit, I just want to see a woman in an action webtoon like Solo Levelling. If any of you can magically conjure a recommendation, please please do so.

Most of my other works are short stories and flash fiction which I post on my website. Link is below, so feel free to check it out if you’re interested! I have a mini-series I’m particularly fond of, Diary of a Wimpy Cat, where I post 100~500 word diary entries written from a cat’s perspective. Specifically, my cat, Frosty.

With love,

Em

Links: FFN // AO3 // Em’s Scribblings