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qvissvmi · 6 months

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I reincarnated as a side character in my favourite novel to prevent the villain’s death!

Chapter 1

Cicilia and I wandered through the busy streets. The lanterns were decorated with festive flowers, traders announced their goods every time we walked by and cheerful folks danced on the market place. It was the kingdom’s founder day when the king blessed this land with freedom and independence. This celebration lasted for a whole week.

„Stay close to me, sweetie.“

„Okay.“

We stopped at a small shop in a deserted back alley. Who would ever find this? The owner should seriously consider moving the location if he wants to make profit.

„I have some business here with the shop owner. Can you wait here for me?“

„No problem.“

„It won’t take long!“ Cicilia shouted from the back as she followed the owner.

I inspected the shop out of boredom. Some necklaces with colourful stones, several jars with preserved monster limbs and bones and lots of potions in display. It seemed like this shop sells magical items.

Suddenly I heard shouting from the outside.

„Leave me alone! I don’t have your belongings!“

„Don’t fucking lie, you little brat! I’ll make you pay with your body, when I get you!“

„Someone…please-!“

My blood pumped faster as I heard the panicked steps and angered stomps rushing by the door. I scanned the shop for anything helpful. In the end I grabbed some potion bottles and leave in a hurry. There was no time to think. My body moved on its own. I swore to myself that I will live this life without regrets so this is what I want to do right now.

„Give me back the diamond of omnipotence!“

„I tell you I don’t have it! Please listen to me!“

Diamond of omnipotence? I’ve heard that before.

„Kyah!“

„Finally caught you, thief!“

The girl tried to free herself from the man’s grip to no avail.

„I wonder if you hid it under your clothes…“

„Don’t touch me!“

Wait a minute, I recognize this scene. But this is not the time for that!

„Hey! Over here, catch!“

„What?“

As the man turned around, a potion bottle broke on impact with his face making him scream in pain and stumble back. I took the girl’s hand and run away with her.

___________________________________________________________

I was on the way to work until a reckless idiot rammed into my car. Surprisingly, it was a painless, quick death. I don’t remember much of it. To my surprise, it didn’t end there. I woke up in another woman’s arms. Even though I was already looking forward to finally rest from all the stress… is that how the afterlife works? Maybe this dream is a great opportunity for me to do all the things I never had time to in my life. But I’ll really miss my phone, hah…

I’ve been looking forward to read the manga version of my favourite romance novel. It’s about the cheerful heroine Hanna Sapphiere who caught the attention of the duke Marius Hartner with her peculiar but precious behaviour. However, it turns out that she is hiding her curse of her ancestors which prevents her from reciprocating the duke’s feelings. She will pursue love someday, but she and her partner will suffer a tragic end. The curse will continue with their child without fail.

The one who casted this curse was a powerful, resentful dragon who loved a human woman. The dragon was hunted for his blood and its healing abilities. The woman who was Hanna’s ancestor took care of that dragon because of her genuine kindness. But that dragon couldn’t accept the fact that she didn’t love him back. He punished her and her whole bloodline for that „betrayal“.

"If she ever dares to love anyone besides me, they will suffer the consequences!"

Hanna doesn’t want her child to suffer like she did. To break the spell, the heroine seeks out a famous mage named Orion and eventually becomes good friends with him. Until then, she will abstain from catching feelings for the duke. However, little did she know that Orion who was willing to help actually possesses the dragon’s blood and is also falling in love with her. The strong emotions of the dragon in his blood will slowly overtake him which forces Hanna and Marius to kill their best friend before he loses his control over his powers. I could never get over this ending and cried several nights.

„My poor babies didn’t deserve that! They were such a nice trio. Orion was even willing to give up his love for Hanna for the happiness of his beloved friends. It’s just too cruel, huhu…“

There were other plot points about the kingdom’s politics and more, but honestly I was only interested in the trio’s dynamic.

„Now that I live inside my favourite novel’s universe, I should have paid more attention to it…“, I thought to myself after saving the girl from the creep. After we ran, my adoptive mother Cicilia already was looking for me.

„Renee!“

I live with her in a forest cottage outside the capital. She is incredibly knowledgeable in medicine and herbs which she has been teaching me since I was little. Literature and simple algebra were also a part of it. Although some things are outdated for me because I knew better from my previous life. She disliked it when I tried to correct her, but still listened when I did. Sometimes I forgot that a child can’t and isn’t supposed to do some things adults do, so Cicilia scolded me pretty often.

„Why didn’t you call for me?? You could have gotten hurt!“

As always, her scolding was pretty intense but she didn’t take as long as she usually does. Perhaps it’s because the girl shaking right beside me was still holding my hand tightly.

Cicilia sighs. „Anyway, I’m glad you’re both safe. Are you okay, sweetheart? What is your name?“

„My n-name is…Hanna. Hanna Sapphiere“

There was no doubt about it. In that moment the heroine of my most loved novel was at my side. In the original plot she would get assaulted by that man which would explain her fear of touch later. That scene was also a flashback introducing the „diamond of omnipotence“ that will be an important plot point for breaking Hanna‘s curse.

“T-thank you for saving me…”

Hanna then bursted out in tears, maybe from relief or shock. I smiled softly at her in hopes of calming down her nerves.

“I only did what I thought was right.”

I never liked that scene. It only made my blood boil so I feel proud preventing it. I wondered how much this would affect the future though…

“My rascal can be pretty reckless but I admit that she did well.”

Yes, please acknowledge my good deed!

“But no need to ride on your high horses now.”

I pouted.

“This was very dangerous. Please leave this to the adults next time, okay?”

“Okaaay.”

“How should I pay you back? Those potions seem expensive….”

Hanna who has calmed down a bit fiddled with her fingers looking at the ground.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! I explained the situation to the shop owner already. Just let us escort you back home.”

“Oh…that’s not necessary, Lady Cicilia. I don’t want to inconvenience you any further.”

What Hanna actually meant was that her home was an orphanage and didn’t want to admit that to us. Her background story always hurt to read. Now that it became a reality it’s even more heartbreaking.

“If you want to return the favor…then why not be friends with my daughter Renee?”

“Eh?”, puzzled I look at Cicilia.

“We live in the woods away from the nearest town so she doesn’t have a lot of opportunities to make friends. It doesn’t help that she’s a bit different from her peers either.”

“I am fine the way I am, thank you very much.”

“Yes, yes. Anyway, what do you say, Hanna? Can you do this for us?”

“Um…I’m not sure if i’m good enough…”

Cicilia gave Hanna her best puppy eyes expression.

“…but if Renee is fine with it…”

“I don’t mind.”

“Huh? A-are you sure?”

“As long as you treat me right, you can be my friend.”

In truth, I knew that Hanna in the novel is the nicest person you could meet. Although I wasn't sure how much of the novel translates to this dream. It was better to observe the events unfold without bias. It’s possible that I might have changed the course of the plot already too. Besides, who wouldn’t want to be friends with the person you have always looked up to? I won’t let this opportunity pass!

“You can come to our cottage sometime! I could show you some cool things you can do in the woods!”

Amused and surprised by my enthusiasm she responded, “Hihi, okay then. I look forward to it.”

There it is; her warm smile just like the novel described. It could melt away all your worries at one glance. A desire to hug her dwelled up inside of me. But I barely managed to hold back. Ah, I hope I can keep her safe this time.

#brainrot #light novel #I've dreamed about this story and wanted to write it down before I forget everything again #Idk how these characters look but prob hot #story writing #i'm not dead yet #romance #fantasy setting #reincarnation #I came up with the names on the spot #english is not my first language #first time writing #reincarnated to prevent the villain’s death

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chanstopher · 1 year

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resending this so i'm really sorry if i miss answering anything from your reply rip jdksdj but hi again dreamy, hope you got better 🥰 it's refreshing looking at someone take it seriously though, most people lightly answer it and, even though i like hearing all kinds of answers, it tell a lot about the person too i believe! i feel like i'd also pick someone who has good survival skills/is a fast learner over someone i'd have to worry about on top of being stranded on an island and thinking about food, shelter communication etc.! then maybe a spare change of clothes? they can be used as bandages, to keep warm if it's chilly/cold & you can alternate between that and what you're wearing instead of sticking to the same set of clothes you arrived in haha as for my final choice, hm... maybe transceivers? something that can help us get in contact with people who can help as i think you can always use wood/leaves/bones as tools/weapons! that is a lovely combination of colours too⏤i immediately imagine a room/interior when people tell me their favourite colour/s and yours is a lovely mainly black/dark grey + whites room with rose gold + slight mustard accents; very elegant & chic! i myself like neutral tones a lot :D but these days i'm into deep greys, muted blues/lilacs and gold! oh and i just saw the languages ask, i must've mixed things up, my bad! but i see, did you learn korean + italian or grasped it/grew up with it? i think english is the only langauage i can say i'm 100% fluent in kdjfdalk but other than that i can speak arabic, enough french and korean to be able to get by if i were to be randomly stranded in the countries, an embarrassingly small bit of chinese despite it being my mother tongue and a teenie tine amount of turkish and swedish. my maternal grandpa knows like 8 languages and he'd speak to us in all of them ever since we were younger so we started understanding a bit of each & my uncle's entire family speaks swedish so we like asking our cousins to speak it 😂 do you like travelling/is there a place you'd like to travel to? oh, and! what's your favourite dessert? - 🌨

oh im glad it came through this time!

most of my apartment is pretty much white and black so you're definitely on to something with your visualization lol i do have a few lighter pinks thrown in but sadly no yellows. most of my decor is like witchy like black cats and moons and things so I don't know how well a lot of color would really work lol

the italian i can speak i learned from my grandfather growing up and i think its starting to leak out of my brain the more i try to stuff korean into it lol korean i've tried to learn through books and videos and things to grasp it so kpop is a little easier to get but i think i have the ability of a like a preschooler lmao so not too helpful but i think i could get myself some basic needs if i was lost in korea fssgd

i havent traveled a lot because its so expensive to go places here, but ive been to disney world before, and nyc a bunch of times. I’d really love to go to australia or new zealand tho! australia has so many sharks and philips island which is supposed to be so cool! and ive been a big lotr nerd forever so new zealand is very big on my list lol

as for dessert im a big cheese cake person and i love tiramisu <3

i cant believe its already almost christmas i feel like we started this so recently!

#drm.ask #🌨 santa

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cookietonki · 2 years

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Garden story game resources

Garden story game resources upgrade#

For reasons I don’t understand, the game offers you backpacks, but they are cosmetic only. Quests that are focused on collecting resources aren’t just repetitive, they’re frustrating because you have limited storage capacity that cannot be upgraded. Garden Story just has silly things that stop it from being enjoyable overall. I enjoyed those boss battles at the end of each of the game's dungeons, but that made up a fraction of my time in the game. Garden Story’s biggest flaw is how tedious the simple things feel. All the battles are fairly entertaining, with some tidy boss design too. Once you get through the dungeon, each one has a unique boss. Even when I tried to really figure them out, so many felt like videogame puzzles rather than something to actually think about. At first, I thought maybe I hadn’t taken it seriously enough because of the game's colourful atmosphere. Combat in general feels a bit sluggish, so it’s a shame it takes so much focus, but the puzzles were simply frustrating. These dungeons are filled with enemies and illogical puzzles. Ultimately, each town in The Grove ends with a dungeon that has to be beaten to resolve their problem. Each category of quests have their own experience bar, which unlocks new equipment for Concord to use. Kill this, fix that, there’s not really a variety here to keep you engrossed in the long run, in my opinion. Questing is a daily occurrence, as Concord awakens every day to take some quests of the help wanted board outside his house. You are limited by a number of slots, but the ability to change gives the player the chance to prepare for each trip around the world in a unique manner. In addition, each Guardian has a gravesite that you can find, which will give you even more buffs to be used. Most will give you a small health bump, but you will usually get something extra on top. Outside of specific skills that can be unlocked, the player can also mix potions that manipulate the way little Concord can be played. Those buffs are a recurring system in the game. Each perk can be swapped in and out depending on the situation, so the player can always have the relevant buff. Completing certain landmarks unlocks a perk card from a previous Guardian who ruled The Grove. At first, I wasn’t a fan of the perk system, but I grew into it throughout the game.

Garden story game resources upgrade#

Concord can upgrade his weaponry used to fight back the rot, in addition to improving his skills with various perks. It’s easy to see why people would think that way, given the Stardew Valley vibes of the trailer, but this is much closer to an RPG than a farming sim. The Grove is split into four unique areas, all covering the different seasons that Concord must visit and help repair throughout the game's story.Īs I said at the beginning, Concord’s journey isn’t one about farming really. Taking over the dying community and fighting back the horrific Rot that has been causing them such grief over the years. One day, when The Grove’s guardian decides to skip town, Concord is left in charge. Our little grape friend Concord is a youngling in a community that is struggling to thrive. On the surface, it’s easy to see Garden Story as some kind of farming simulator, but it turns out that is very much not the case. Admittedly, I’m also not a grape, unlike the game's protagonist Concord. Having spent the summer of 2021 neglecting to tend to my own garden, I can see why maybe I wasn’t the best choice to take on the videogame Garden Story. Reviews // 11th Sep 2021 - 12 months ago // By Adam Kerr Garden Story Review

#Garden story game resources

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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Jurassic period alien interacting with key cultures and historical figures in Middle East & Asia throughout history

@ketchupmaster400 said:

Hello, so my question is for a character I’ve been working on for quite a while but wasn’t sure about a few things. So basically at the beginning of the universe there was this for less being made up of dark matter and dark energy. Long story short it ends up on earth during the Jurassic Period. It has the ability to adapt and assimilate into other life animals except it’s hair is always black and it’s skin is always white and it’s eyes are always red. It lives like this going from animal to animal until it finally becomes human and gains true sentience and self awareness. As a human it lives within the Middle East and Asia wondering around trying to figure out its purpose and meaning. So what I initially wanted to do with it was have small interactions with the dark matter human and other native humans that kinda helped push humanity into the direction it is now. For example, Mehndhi came about when the dark matter human was drawing on their skin because it felt insecure about having such white skin compared to other people. And ancient Indians saw it and thought it was cool so they adopted it and developed it into Mehndi. Minor and small interactions though early history leading to grander events. Like they would be protecting Jerusalem and it’s people agains the Crusaders later on. I also had the idea of the the dark matter human later on interacting with the prophets Jesus Christ and Muhammad. With Jesus they couldn’t understand why he would sacrifice himself even though the people weren’t deserving. And then Jesus taught them that you have to put other before yourself and protecting people is life’s greatest reward. And then with the prophet Muhammad, I had the idea that their interaction was a simple conversation that mirrors the one he had with the angel Jibril, that lead to the principles of Islam. Now with these ideas I understand the great importance of how not to convey Islam and I’ve been doing reasearch, but I am white and I can understand how that may look trying to write about a different religion than my own. So I guess ultimate my question is, is this ok to do? Is it ok to have an alien creature interact with religious people and historical events as important as they were? Like I said I would try to be as accurate and as respectable as possible but I know that Islam can be a touchy subject and the last thing I would want is to disrespect anyone. The main reason I wanted the dark matter being in the Middle East was because I wanted to do something different because so much has been done with European and American stuff I wanted to explore the eastern side of the world because it’s very beau and very rich with so many cultures that I want to try and represent. I’m sorry for the long post but I wanted you guys to fully understand what my idea was. Thank you for your time and hope you stay safe.

Disclaimer:

The consensus from the moderators was that the proposed character and story is disrespectful from multiple cultural perspectives. However, we can’t ignore the reality that this is a commonly deployed trope in many popular science fiction/ thriller narratives. Stories that seek to take religious descriptions of events at face value from an areligious perspective particularly favor this approach. Thus, we have two responses:

Where we explain why we don’t believe this should be attempted.

Where we accept the possibility of our advice being ignored.

1) No - Why You Shouldn’t Do This:

Hi! I’ll give you the short answer first, and then the extended one.

Short answer: no, this is not okay.

Extended answer. I’ll divide it into three parts.

1) Prophet Muhammad as a character:

Almost every aspect of Islam, particularly Allah (and the Qur’an), the Prophet(s) and the companions at the time of Muhammad ﷺ, are strictly kept within the boundaries of real life/reality. I’ll assume this comes from a good place, and I can understand that from one side, but seriously, just avoid it. It is extremely disrespectful and something that is not even up to debate for Muslims to do, let alone for non-Muslims. Using Prophet Muhammad as a character will only bring you problems. There is no issue with mentioning the Prophet during his lifetime when talking about his attributes, personality, sayings or teachings, but in no way, we introduce fictional aspects in a domain that Muslims worked, and still work, hard to keep free from any doubtful event or incident. Let’s call it a closed period: we don’t add anything that was not actually there.

Reiterating then, don’t do this. There is a good reason why Muslims don’t have any pictures of Prophet Muhammad. We know nothing besides what history conveyed from him.

After this being said, there is another factor you missed – Jesus is also an important figure in Islam and his story from the Islamic perspective differs (a lot) from that of the Christian perspective. And given what you said in your ask, you would be taking the Christian narrative of Jesus. If it was okay to use Prophet Muhammad as a character (reminder: it’s not) and you have had your dark matter human interacting with the biblical Jesus, it will result in a complete mess; you would be conflating two religions.

2) Crusaders and Jerusalem:

You said this dark matter human will be defending Jerusalem against the Crusaders. At first, there is really no problem with this. However, ask yourself: is this interaction a result of your character meeting with both Jesus and Prophet Muhammed? If yes, please refer to the previous point. If not, or even if you just want to maintain this part of the story, your dark matter human can interact with the important historical figures of the time. For example, if you want a Muslim in your story, you can use Salah-Ad-Din Al-Ayoubi (Saladin in the latinized version) that took back Jerusalem during the Third Crusade. Particularly, this crusade has plenty of potential characters.

Also, featuring Muslim characters post Prophet Muhammad and his companions’ time, is completely fine, just do a thorough research.

3) Middle Eastern/South Asian settings and Orientalism:

The last point I want to remark is with the setting you chose for your story. Many times, when we explore the SWANA or South Asian regions it’s done through an orientalist lens. Nobody is really safe from falling into orientalism, not even the people from those regions. My suggestion is educating yourself in what orientalism is and how it’s still prevalent in today’s narrative. Research orientalism in entertainment, history... and every other area you can think of. Edward Said coined this term for the first time in history, so he is a good start. There are multiple articles online that touch this subject too. For further information, I defer to middle eastern mods.

- Asmaa

Racism and Pseudo-Archaeology:

A gigantic, unequivocal and absolute no to all of it, lmao.

I will stick to the bit about the proposed origin of mehendi in your WIP, it’s the arc I feel I’m qualified to speak on, Asmaa has pretty much touched upon the religious and orientalism complications.

Let me throw out one more word: pseudoarchaeology. That is, taking the cultural/spiritual/historical legacies of ancient civilizations, primarily when it involves people of colour, and crediting said legacies to be the handiwork of not just your average Outsider/White Saviour but aliens. I’ll need you to think carefully about this: why is it that in so much of media and literature pertaining to the so-called “conspiracy theories” dealing with any kind of extraterrestrial life, it’s always Non-Western civilizations like the Aztec, the ancient Egyptians, the Harappans etc who are targeted? Why is it that the achievements of the non West are so unbelievable that it’s more feasible to construct an idea of non-human, magical beings from another planet who just conveniently swooped in to build our monuments and teach us how to dress and what to believe in? If the answer makes you uncomfortable, it’s because it should: denying the Non-West agency of their own feats is not an innocent exercise in sci-fi worldbuilding, it comes loaded with implications of racial superiority and condescension towards the intellect and prowess of Non-European cultures.

Now, turning to specifics:

Contrary to what Sarah J. Maas might believe- mehendi designs are neither mundane, purely aesthetic tattoos nor can they be co-opted by random Western fantasy characters. While henna has existed as an art form in various cultures, I’m limiting my answer to the Indian context, (specifying since you mention ancient India). Mehendi is considered one of the tenets of the Solah Shringar- sixteen ceremonial adornments for Hindu brides, one for each phase of the moon, as sanctioned by the Vedic texts. The shade of the mehendi is a signifier for the strength of the matrimonial bond: the darker the former, the stronger the latter. Each of the adornments carries significant cosmological/religious symbolism for Hindus. To put it bluntly, when you claim this to be an invention of the aliens, you are basically taking a very sacred cultural and artistic motif of our religion and going “Well actually….extraterrestrials taught them all this.”

In terms of Ayurveda (Traditional holistic South Asian medicine) , mehendi was used for its medicinal properties. It works as a cooling agent on the skin and helps to alleviate stress, particularly for the bride-to-be. Not really nice to think that aliens lent us the secrets of Ayurvedic science (pseudoarchaeology all over again).

I’m just not feeling this arc at all. The closest possible alternative I could see to this is the ancient Indian characters incorporating some specific stylistic motifs in their mehendi in acknowledgement to this entity, in the same vein of characters incorporating motifs of tribute into their armour or house insignia, but even so, I’m not sure how well that would play out. If you do go ahead with this idea, I cannot affirm that it will not receive backlash.

-Mimi

These articles might help:

Pseudoarchaeology and the Racism Behind Ancient Aliens

A History of Indian Henna (this studies mehendi origins mostly with reference to Mughal history)

Solah Shringar

2) Not Yes, But If Ignoring the Above:

I will be the dissenting voice of “Not No, But Here Are The Big Caveats.” Given that there is no way to make the story you want to tell palatable to certain interpretations of Islam and Christianity, here is my advice if the above arguments did not sufficiently deter you.

1. Admiration ≠ Research: It is not enough to just admire cultures for their richness and beauty. You need to actually do the research and learn about them to determine if the story you want to tell is a good fit for the values and principles these cultures prioritize. You need to understand the significance of historical figures and events to understand the issues with attributing the genesis of certain cultural accomplishments to an otherworldly influence. 1.

2. Give Less Offense When Possible and Think Empathetically: You should try to imagine the mindsets of those you will offend and think about to what degree you can soften or ameliorate certain aspects of your plot, the creature’s characteristics, and the creature’s interactions with historical figures to make your narrative more compatible. There is no point pretending that much of areligious science fiction is incompatible with monotheist, particularly non-henotheistic, religious interpretations as well as the cultural items and rituals derived from those religious interpretations. One can’t take “There is no god, just a lonely alien” and make that compatible with “There is god, and only in this particular circumstance.” Thus:

As stated above by Asmaa and Mimi, there is no escaping the reality the story you propose is offensive to some. Expect their outcry to be directed towards you. Can you tolerate that?

Think about how you would feel if someone made a story where key components of your interpretation of reality are singled out as false. How does this make you feel? Are you comfortable doing that to others?

3. Is Pseudoarchaeology Appropriate Here?: Mimi makes a good point about the racial biases of pseudoarchaeology. Pseudoarchaeology is a particular weakness of Western-centric atheist sci-fi. Your proposed story is the equivalent of a vaguely non-descript Maya/Aztec/Egyptian pyramid or Hindu/ Buddhist-esque statue being the source for a Resident Evil bio weapon/ Predator nest/ Assassin’s Creed Isu relic.

Is this how you wish to draw attention to these cultures you admire? While there is no denying their ubiquity in pop-culture, such plots trivialize broad swathes of non-white history and diminish the accomplishments of associated ethnic groups. The series listed above all lean heavily into these tropes either because the authors couldn’t bother to figure out something more creative or because they are intentionally telling a story the audience isn’t supposed to take seriously.*

More importantly, I detect a lot of sincerity in your ask, so I imagine such trivialization runs counter to your expressed desire to depict Eastern cultures in a positive and accurate manner.

4. Freedom to Write ≠ Freedom from Consequence: Once again, as a reminder, it’s not our job to reassure you as to whether or not what you are proposing is ok. Asmaa and Mimi have put a lot of effort into explaining who you will offend and why. We are here to provide context, but the person who bears the ultimate responsibility for how you choose to shape this narrative, particularly if you share this story with a wide audience, is you. Speaking as one writer to another, I personally do not have a strong opinion one way or the other, but I think it is important to be face reality head-on.

- Marika.

* This is likely why the AC series always includes that disclaimer stating the games are a product of a multicultural, inter-religious team and why they undermine Western cultures and Western religious interpretations as often (if not moreso) than those for their non-Western counterparts.

Note: Most WWC asks see ~ 5 hours of work from moderators before they go live. Even then, this ask took an unusually long amount of time in terms of research, emotional labor and discussion. If you found this ask (and others) useful, please consider tipping the moderators (link here), Asmaa (coming eventually) and Mimi (here). I also like money - Marika.

#alien character #historical fiction #science fiction #pseudoarchaeology #Middle-Eastern cultures #South-Asian cultures #Islam #writing with Islam #mehendi #cultural appropriation #areligious perspectives in writing #asks #WWC

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

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B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling.

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier. Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #a-z of spencer reid #the a-z of spencer reid

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the husky and his white cat shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #2ha #2ha translation #2ha novel #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mo ran #chu wanning #yaoi novel

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beom1e · 3 years

Text

PINK GUITAR

nobody had ever really noticed you before. you spent your entire life blending in with the crowd, despite dedicating your entire life to becoming a singer on stage. you’d always felt so unimportant and uninteresting. but to him, you were the bright splash of colour in a grey world.

PAIRING park jongseong x fem! reader

THEMES bassist! jay, vocalist! reader, fluff, highschool au

WARNINGS very light sex references

the energy of the club whenever a band was performing was your favourite. everybody was dancing and singing along to what they knew, using those few hours to push away all of their responsibilities and just relax. for many years, you had witnessed it from the crowd with a yearning to be up there creating that energy yourself.

having taken up guitar lessons at a young age with an innate desire to perform, you knew that one day you’d get the chance. or, at least you thought you would. auditioning for a highschool band seemed like an ingenious idea at the time, until you got the part as sub vocalist. the girl that had taken your place as lead vocalist happened to be sleeping with the band’s leader... and the rest was history.

but the lost opportunity wasn’t going to get you down. especially not as you were standing in that very same club, sipping on your drink and eyeing the competition on stage.

said competition was the small group that had taken over the school with their good looks and musical talent. there was heeseung as the lead vocalist, a sweet boy who had already graduated. then there was sunghoon, the lead guitarist that had every girl and guy alike in the palm of his hand. and jake, he was the drummer but spent most of his time trying to be the top of the class and flirting with his fangirls. finally there was jay, the bassist. you didn’t know much about him, just that he seemed very chilled out and insanely popular for that reason specifically.

something about jay always had you wondering, though. he’d meet your gaze as you were sipping from your drink, keeping his eyes on you. it made you feel seen, and you felt stupid for feeling that way. in what world would jay park be interested in you?

as the last song came to a end, you turned back and made your way through the crowd. there your own bandmates were, chatting amongst themselves.

being in their band was a temporary fix. you weren’t their friend, nor were you a necessary member of the band. although you could easily be traded out for someone else, you really didn’t mind. at least you had the opportunity to be on stage, even if it was out of the spotlight.

‘we should head backstage,’ you reminded your lead vocalist before stepping away from them. making your way through the staff only door and heading up the steps, you came face to face with jay.

‘hey, y/n,’ he greeted with a smile, moving out of the way so that you could get past him. you mumbled a quick thank you before fleeing the scene and finding your guitar. jake and sunghoon passed by you as well, talking loudly about something. and then heeseung, who smiled at you before following the rest of the boys onto the floor of the club.

your own band finally showed up as you were checking the tuning of your guitar. the four of you made your way onto the stage, the lead vocalist getting right into greeting everyone.

it was routine. you started the song off with the strum of your electric guitar, and the energy began to pick up. the lead vocalist sang, the drummer played the drums, and the bassist played his bass guitar. you had small singing parts, usually as the backup for your lead, but it was enough for now.

jay was watching your every move. from your black painted nails to the pick between your lips to the way you gripped the microphone and sang so beautifully. his favourite thing was your baby pink electric guitar, perfectly preserved and a huge contrast to the outfits you wore on stage. he was completely mesmerised by you, but you didn’t have a clue.

singing was your first love. you loved the rush of playing a guitar solo, but nothing felt better than expressing your emotions through your voice and lyrics. so every friday, as students began flooding out of the school gates, you headed to the music classroom for practice.

your piano skills were rusty, but you took a seat at the instrument anyway. although, there was one tune you would never be able to forget, which happened to be a song you’d written. your purpose in the band wasn’t to write music, so you’d never mentioned it to your bandmates.

as your fingers ran delicately against the keys, you began to hum. jay came to a stop outside of the classroom at the sound of your playing.

when you began to sing your lyrics, he felt himself mindlessly smiling. he always thought you had a better voice than your lead singer, and was confused as to why you were made sub vocalist. it seemed like you were overflowing with musical ability, and deserved a better place in your band.

‘that’s a pretty song,’ he stepped inside, making you jump. there was a horrible clash of piano keys coming together to make an awful sound that made you both cringe. ‘sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘it’s fine,’ you turned around on the piano bench to face him. ‘how long have you been there?’

‘just since you started singing,’ he shrugged, but you felt your eyes go wide. nobody had ever heard your song before, so you couldn’t believe the first person to hear it was jay park. ‘oh... i’m sorry for invading your privacy. i just came here to pick up my guitar.’

‘seriously, it’s fine, jay,’ you reassured with a smile, watching him reach for his guitar. ‘but maybe knock next time so that i don’t almost have a heart attack.’

he laughed shortly at your words. as he was about to leave, he turned back around to face you. ‘you have a really beautiful singing voice,’ your cheeks began to heat up. ‘you know, heeseung has been considering leaving the band since he’s no longer a highschool student. so if you ever wanted to practice as a lead vocalist, the place is up for grabs.’

‘i think i’d like that,’ jay couldn’t help but smile at your words. ‘do you want my number so we can arrange a session together?’

sunghoon and jake were tired of hearing jay go on and on about you. he’d been jumpy all day waiting for you to show up, so much so that heeseung felt himself getting dizzy.

when you did arrive, everybody already looked exhausted. it reminded you a lot of your own band practices, since everybody in your band was always so dull and boring.

‘y/n!’ heeseung called happily, dropping down from a barstool to greet you. ‘finally, you’re here.’

‘did i keep you all waiting long...?’ you awkwardly looked around the room. but nobody seemed too annoyed, so you were sure you were off the hook.

‘no,’ sunghoon started. ‘just jay—’ jake reached to cover sunghoon’s mouth, cutting him off.

‘let’s get you set up,’ heeseung suggested, gesturing towards the stage. you followed him up, the other three boys finding their instruments. ‘just choose a song you want to try and they’ll start.’

he jumped back down from the stage to sit back on his bar stool. at first you felt awkward, standing up in front of the band’s current lead vocalist. it didn’t help that you couldn’t see the three boys behind you.

but after a while, you started to feel more comfortable. and it was fun, taking control of the songs with your vocals. every couple of songs, you’d take a snack or drink break and sit around on the stage with the boys, just chatting amongst yourselves. jay was unusually quiet, watching you laugh with his friends from the sidelines. it wasn’t jealousy, he just liked seeing you happy and carefree.

after the session was over, you packed up your pink guitar and said goodbye to the boys. jay followed you out, catching your wrist to spin you around.

‘you’re amazing, y/n,’ he spoke, holding back a smile. ‘i’m not going to force you to leave your own band, but i want you to know the position is being offered to you. so think about it, please?’

‘i will,’ you nodded, beaming with pride. ‘thank you for today, jay. i’ll see you on monday.’

you were sitting with your back against the tree, snack in one hand and a book in the other. considering it was a sunny day, you thought it was a great idea. well, you were wrong.

‘enjoying that, y/n?’ you lowered the book to see your lead singer standing in front of you. ‘i just came to see if the rumours were true.’

‘what rumours?’ you closed your book, setting it down beside yourself. she was standing with her arms crossed, an annoyed look on her face.

‘just that you’re the new lead singer for jay and his little buddies,’ the tone of her voice was mocking. a smirk was on her lips, as if this whole thing was nothing more than a joke to her.

‘well, they’re not true,’ you defended. ‘heeseung is leaving and jay asked me to practice with them. he said he really likes my singing voice and that they’ve been wanting a female touch to the band.’

‘well, they’re kind of true,’ she squinted her eyes, staring down at you. ‘if you want to fraternise with the enemy, then go ahead. but you’re out of our band, and we won’t be taking you back.’

‘fine by me,’ you stood, slipping your bag onto your shoulder. ‘good luck sleeping your way to the top, we all know that’s the only reason you got lead singer.’

as you tried to walk away, she just kept going on. ‘do you really think i’m that stupid, y/n? the only reason jay is offering you a place in their band is because he’s hoping to sleep with you.’

‘unbelievable,’ you turned back around. ‘can you just drop it? i really don’t care for your opinion.’

‘not an opinion, y/n,’ she stepped forward, a smug smile on her face. ‘just a fact.’ shoving past you, she disappeared inside of the building.

there was a knock on the door and you looked up from your lyric book. ‘hey,’ jay greeted, letting himself into the music classroom. ‘i heard what happened.’

‘hi, jay,’ you smiled weakly. ‘yeah, it was pretty bad... but please don’t pity invite me into your band.’

‘can i sit here?’ he gestured towards the piano bench you were occupying. you nodded, sliding over a bit to give him more room. ‘i’m not pity inviting you. with heeseung leaving, we need a talented vocalist to take his place. i’ve seen you sing and perform, and i just genuinely think you’re an amazing artist.’

‘thanks,’ you bit back your smile, looking off to the side. ‘that means a lot. but i do have one question.’

‘i’m sure i have an answer,’ jay shrugged.

‘please bare in mind that i really don’t see you as the type to do this,’ your words made him tense up. what could you possibly need to ask? ‘but ever since she mentioned it, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. you’re not asking me just because you want to sleep with me, are you?’

‘no,’ his answer came quick. he didn’t want you to see him as that type. ‘i can’t say that i don’t have feelings for you, but i wasn’t looking to pursue you. i’m sensible, keeping work and play separate.’

‘work and play?’ you laughed, resting your hand on his arm for support. ‘work hard, play hard type of guy? not very surprising.’

‘nah, that’s jake,’ he laughed along with you, eyes moving down to where your hand was. feeling awkward, you removed your hand and cleared your throat. ‘but seriously, the spot is yours. i’d love to see you up there thriving on stage.’

he stood from the bench, sending you one last smile before turning out of the room. shuffling your things into your bag, you ran to catch up to him. ‘jay, wait!’ you called, seeing him stop in his tracks.

‘yeah?’ he asked cluelessly. you got closer, a bright smile on your lips. leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. jay felt himself tensing up, his entire body warming up at the gesture.

‘thank you, jongseong,’ you smiled, then leaving him to stand there looking like an idiot.

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scarfacemarston · 2 years

Note

Hi-hi! Just saw your vent post here, I'm so sorry you have to go through this, esp right before holidays. :/ As a distraction and if you'd be interested, maybe you could share your thoughts on what the hell Dutch was doing after 1899 till 1907? I know you write mostly about Abi&John, but I feel like you have a good grasp of characters in RDR, which is not blurred with fanon perceptions. I have a hard time imagining Dutch keeping low & surviving in the wilderness on his own, yet I don't think he could go around people unnoticed. He is quite a "colourful character" and the word that he's alive would spread fast. Plus his "all I did was fight" take on life makes me DoUbT even more that he could hold still for so long. Thank you! 🖤

Oh I'll write for anyone in terms of meta and history goes, It's just creatively, I don't have enough energy and I'm unsure if I still have the ability to "voice" the characters correctly. I have some of my other writing on my masterlist but well...most of my writing could use some editing. Anyhow, thank you so much. You’re too kind. To start, think it is totally fine to have headcanons and I never want to get in the way of those, but if someone wants a realistic answer to what happened - I look at the source material and only the source material. Which is why I sometimes get annoyed when people INISIST their headcanon is fact because that’s not what a headcanon is. As you said, Dutch needs attention. He can't live happily without it. It doesn't matter if it's one person, 2, 3, or 20 or 50. He needs it somewhere somehow. Now that is normal for people, but Dutch is very much someone who needs it to thrive. That is how he has always been whether he’s using the “romance of Evelyn Miller” or not -John bluntly says he was egotistical andr relied on the gang to feed him before we even have seen a wanted poster of him in rdr 1.

Back to Dutch, he is very clever and an expert at avoiding the law and always has been. He’s the type to make an appearance to cause trouble and gain attention and then disappear like a cloud of smoke. So I think as long as he has the attention of at least one person, that slows him down a little. Micah easily feeds into that so he can manipulate Dutch in a lot of ways, but Dutch probably knows this and can put him in line in some ways. Dutch had to, I don’t see him following Micah like that - just his “suggestions”.

With the knowledge of both games, I think he traveled with Micah for years, the events of the epilogue occur and THEN catches up with Bill and Javier for a while.

When you talk to the Pinkertons in chapter 3 of RDR 1, they get pissy that they didn’t listen to the rumors that Dutch was outside of Blackwater near Manzinita not just the entire time in the game - but for years in the mountains with his own gang in Cochinay, so it’s possible he already met up with Javier and Bill and left with Micah. IDK but I think that’s where Dutch went after the epilogue. I spent some time writing until 1911 and then I saw your post said 1907. If you want to read what else I wrote, feel free to; if not, that’s okay, too!

People do not take John seriously when it comes to Dutch’s personality or who he or Dutch is in rdr 1 which is frustrating when many people haven’t even played rdr 1 to even know how Javier, John, Abigail, Dutch and Bill are. A lot of people don’t want to accept that their character of choice was darker or more jaded than their rdr 2 counterpart but that is how it was written originally. I don’t understand why people don’t trust the original protagonist who grew up with him. Bill, and Javier have less than 5 minutes each of screen time to the point that I’ve written Javier’s script. So people not at least acknowledging what John says makes zero sense. Again, headcanon is a very different thing. When Dutch catches up with Bill and Javier whether it’s with Micah before 1907 or not - Regardless, it sounds to me that Javier became disillusioned with Dutch and Bill’s actions and became a wanderer / bounty hunter in Mexico. The game cannot stress enough how cruel and ruthless Bill and Dutch become to the point that some of their scenes were nearly blocked because RockStar couldn’t release the game unless they changed it. I think it says a lot about Javier that he left on his own after that. It makes Javier’s story so much more tragic. That’s what all the locals say. Bill goes to New Austin to start his own nasty gang but Javier does shield him again anyway. I don’t know how recently Javier saw Dutch. He tries to tell John that Dutch is in South America and will take him but is obviously lying. I think that it was still was out of a sense of loyalty even if they weren’t together. Either way, when you talk to the Pinkertons in chapter 3 of RDR 1, they get pissy that they didn’t listen to the rumors that Dutch was outside of Blackwater near Manzinita not just the entire time in the game - but for years in the mountains with his own gang in Cochinay. This is 1911.

#.long post.#dutch van der linde #micah bell #red dead redemption 2 #john marston #red dead redemption 1 #van der linde gang #rdr 2 #bill williamson #javier escuella #rdr 1

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generallynerdy · 3 years

Text

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din.

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right.

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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Color Rush ; Power Plays and Forced Mindsets (Ep 1-4)

You all know when a show takes you by surprise, you're expecting the same repetition of storylines, the same tropes, the same settings over and over again and then one show stands out; it isn't what you expected. How on earth did you find such a gem. When Korea focused on bringing out new BLs, I was astounded, because that's what we've been secretly hoping for with the talent for production, directing and storytelling even if in a low budget, Korea is the one to beat. And if they start to take BLs stories more seriously, then we were in for a treat. There were phenomenal beginnings and exciting plots, and it felt right except there was also the little minutes and the need for the ambitious plotlines chosen to be concluded correctly, but because of short screen time, the stories ended unsatisfactorily at times. But it didn't matter because as long as we keep getting new Bls from Korea, everything will be fine, one day we'll get to a show that is above all the rest. Is it too early for me to then say that Color Rush is that show we've been waiting for?

An Introduction to Color Rush

Even though it's 15 minutes air time each episode, Color Rush manages to astound and confound us each episode. It's like being on a roller coaster, the thrill, the excitement, the euphoria and the joy that such a plotline was introduced. Color Rush sounds so weird at first; it's soulmate au trope, in a world where some people can't see color and end up finding someone who makes them do so with severe side effects. Like what? Who knew we were also falling into a story with psychological implications mirroring the issues with addiction and obsession, societal issues with prejudice reflecting LGBTQ struggles and minorities, and a terrifying, thrilling and yet sweet romance that seems never to know which spectrum it's on; if it's just a cute fluffy soulmate, au or a more psychological scarier look into obsession and power plays. It's phenomenal, and it takes me on a ride every single episode when it's over, I wonder what on earth did I just watch and why do I want more.

Why do I want these two to get together despite being frightened because of what their relationship entails, why do I feel emotionally torn about the positive and benefits these two have on each other vs the adverse outcomes that could happen the more they stay together. It's a trip. And it's become my own obsession and love too. I think like Yeon Woo I'm also experiencing some kind of color rush with this show because the way I don't want it to end, and the way I'm falling for it more is just something I never thought would happen to a 15-minute episode show. Anyways we're going to be analysing the mindsets and power plays of our soulmates and the negative and positive impact their relationship brings. Could we be falling for a psychotic twisted person (Yoo Han) or could we be being lied to by the media and society on how dangerous monos are? Let's find out.

So what do we know so far in Color Rush? We have Yeon Woo a monochromatic who is neurologically color blind, because of this condition he's been forced to think he's always going to be stuck in a grey, bleak, colourless world alone. He also doesn't want to meet the person destined for him to get out of that prison in his mind, because that person will end up being in danger as monos tend to have aggressive, violent personalities when they get addicted to the color rush they feel with their probes. That person is Yeon Woo, on the other hand, he's also forced to think life is boring because he can't recognise faces, he doesn't have a long-lasting impression with people, he is looking for something to latch onto and when he notices his monos eyes change color or receive color; he gets also excited and determined to keep Yeon Woo by his side despite the pain and suffering it could bring with them being together. Yikes right? There is a weird line between these two that shouldn't be crossed, a line of addiction and passion, the more they are exposed to each other, the possession and obsession grow, and the dependency becomes like a drug killing them on the inside but providing them pleasure because of the feelings they have for each other. Let's analyse the two mindsets of these two characters first, so we get a more in-depth look into what's going on in this world of monos and probes.

Yeon Woo: Alienation and Dependence

So we have Yeon Woo, he has a mindset of a mono. He's been forced by the world to think that he's a monster because of who he is naturally. With the role of the media and society telling him monos are destined to be alone if not they will be dangerous and hurt people. He's cursed essentially and feels that he must stay alienated and alone for the sake of people's safety. He's heard and seen rumours on how dangerous monos can get when they meet their soulmate, they can kill, they can maim, they break the law irrationally, and they even become cannibals if they are forced to a mindset of obsession and addiction to the colors they need to so desperately see. Yeon Woo's world is dark; it's quite synonymous with the feelings of depression, it's heavy, it's grey, it's stagnant. The mindsets of monos are to feel this longing despair and darkness within them because they cannot see anything else, and they are being told they are meant to stay this way forever.

It's incredible how much Yeon Woo has been forced to hate himself. We find out that he's been bullied repeatedly because he's a mono, people don't like what's different, and the prejudice is against monos because the media makes everyone see them as a monster, constantly fear-mongering everyone with rumours of one incident that happened with someone who couldn't hark the addiction to color rush. The thing is monos meeting their probes is even rare, so not all monos are ever going to be stuck in a crazy obsession to see color, they just are told to prevent it as much as possible. With Bullying making Yeon Woo move schools frequently because he reacts violently to defend himself, Yeon Woo doesn't trust or have any friends that he can rely on. This must be such a lonely, depressing, heavy toll on him. But what else can he do? The one person who can help him feel some kind of happiness or difference is his probe, but he can't be with him because he'll hurt him. It's regrettable and depressing when you think about the pain he carries. Not to mention the one person who could make him feel normal, his mother, a mono has gone missing and can't be found, and he probably thinks that again it's because Monos are cursed to be forgotten and in danger. It's awful.

Yoo Han: Obsession and Possession

On the other hand, we have Yoo Han. He's the probe, so he sees color, but he actually is also very similar to Yeon Woo's plight. He has prosopagnosia, face blindness; he can't recognise people or faces. He also has to be walking through a sea of nothing and feel like he can't make connections properly with people because of it. A person with prosopagnosia may avoid social interaction by choice, so he avoids the feeling of social anxiety and just has no interest in making connections with people. He already acts like Yeon Woo, Yeon Woo also chooses to avoid people because of his condition.

This is why it's fascinating because as Yeon Woo is terrified of becoming the mono obsessed with his probe, he doesn't realise that Han is probably more obsessed with him because he can see something different on him. He repeatedly mentions that he likes seeing the different colours enter Yeon Woo's eyes, and I think that he's latched on to that. He also receives a different type of colour rush; being able to have Yeon Woo depend on him and also being able to recognise a feature on someone's face because of colour that is distinctly different each time Yeon Woo goes through a color rush. This is why I find his power-play interesting because he wants to control when Yeon Woo sees colour probably because of trying to prevent him from being addicted and obsessed, but I don't think he takes it seriously how dangerous it is to keep exposing Yeon Woo to colour so easily especially when we can all see that Yeon Woo is experiencing signs of dependency on the color rush; something he's been trying to avoid. As Yeon Woo worries about becoming this monster, he probably should keep an eye on Yoo Han who is more determined to keep him by his side and is also forming some kind of obsession and dependency on his presence.

It's meant to be the mono who's in control, who's the one that receives the most from the probe and is the one with the most power in this relationship but Yoo Han is different. He is the one who's running to his mono endlessly, ignoring the risks and choosing to make his mono get used to color rush. I don't think he's trying to make Yeon Woo go crazy on purpose, or even he knows if he's being too obsessive, but I do believe he's not fully aware of all the information or have the ability to stop the time when they cross that line, and Yeon Woo does become the thing he's afraid of becoming. Han acts like he owns Yeon Woo and wants to control his addiction and outbursts; hence he pulls away and doesn't give into Yeon Woo's demands when he gets scared of losing the color. The basis of the addiction with these two is the fear of losing what they have. This is why in episode 4 although it's romantic Yeon Woo tells Han that he wants to be with him forever, it's also frightening cause that's a sign of addiction and dependency that we know he's trying to avoid.

Being a Mono: Prejudice and Self Hate

Looking into more of the prejudice Monos receive, we can see Yeon Woo's aunt call him and try and prevent him from listening to the media, so he doesn't see himself as a monster. She knows he's always heard and believed in how the media portrayed monos. And this is why it's fascinating to me, are monos really the way people think they are or has it been imbedded into their minds to believe that what they are is wrong. See why this is a metaphor for LGBTQ and minority struggles. Whenever something is different or against societal norms, the group suffers because of growing up with the mindset that something is wrong with who they are naturally instead of actually feeling safe to be who they are and free. Monos are treated this way; they've been told that the love they have for their probes is toxic and dangerous; when really it's probably an exaggeration or can be prevented. But society has made them stop wanting to view themselves and love themselves for who they are, but instead cages them with fear every day on the news about people who aren't them. They even write lazy news reports because they just assume that all monos kill their probes and go crazy from being together. It's really an interesting question to ask. We're feeling the tension and fear Yeon Woo has, but his heart has chosen Yoo Han from the start, he knows it, but he can't help question if it's because of the color rush or because of Yoo Han. And that's where the problem lies, can love ever be good and safe with obsession and codependency?

Macbeth: Madness and Greed

Speaking of Yoo Han's mindset and tendencies. I couldn't help but notice the book that is being mentioned repeatedly in this show, Macbeth could be shadowing him as well. He wears the orange hoody the first time when the book is shown, and this is very similar to the color of the book shown in the show. Macbeth; I've mentioned before is a story about someone who is so obsessed with power that the obsessiveness leads to craziness, violence and madness. Which is similar to symptoms that monos get when they're with their probes. But I can't also help but remember episode 4 when Min Jae says a funny quote about doughnuts in relation to Macbeth. It stuck with me because it may seem like a joke about food but actually think about it. He says the twisted doughnuts become round and the round doughnuts become twisted. And I think that's something to keep in mind we've been told the monos are the issue, the monos are the ones that are twisted and dangerous, but perhaps the probes are also just as dangerous and mad. Or perhaps it's again foreshadowing that Yoo Han is the one with the obsessive dynamics in this couple.

We may be worried that Yeon Woo is the one getting obsessed and addicted to the color rush but as I've said if Yoo Han is also somehow experiencing some kind of color rush when he sees the color in Woo's eyes if he is so desperate to latch onto the idea of someone needing him he may also go into a power trip as he's already showing he is with Yeon Woo. He might want to stay in that state of control and lose his mind. And that's scary and entertaining. I think these two will end up together. They're meant to be together despite the probe mono business. They show other affections and feelings of care, love (non-obsessive), and they both find solace in each other's presence because they both are different and get each other. I'm not saying Yoo Han is going to be a dangerous criminal but we should keep an eye on him to see if there are more signs of increasing dependency and reactions to Yeon Woo not playing by his rules.

Yeon Woo and Yoo Han: Power and Control

We have a theme of control and power with these two. Yeon Woo is trying to control his situation by avoiding ever meeting his probe; he continually tries to avoid the uncontrollable longing and feelings he's starting to have for Yoo Han. Still, no matter how much logically he thinks he can, he's already wearing a jacket and moving to the door towards Yoo Han. He's uncontrollably saying what comes to his head despite trying hard to prevent them from interacting more. People mentioned that he wasn't making sense when he says he wants to avoid people, but he's eating snacks from Yoo Han and Min Jae, and he's going into the lab with Yoo Han. But what he says is just because it's automatic to him to want to say that, he's been forced in a mindset that he shouldn't be with people, so even though deep down he wants the friends, and Yoo Han, he struggles with it yet automatically gives in and does the opposite. For me, that signifies how much control he's losing of himself when it comes to Yoo Han, again the problem is the lack of control monos have when they get addicted to the color rush. Usually with love having lack of control and your walls being broken down, and you are automatically saying how you feel is meant to be a strength to the romance, for color rush, however, signs of that just mean more worries for Yeon Woo, how long and how much more exposure can he take before he entirely crosses that line and becomes uncontrollable.

We're starting to see even more worrying effects, loss of memory. Maybe Mono's truly lose the control of themselves, their minds and more without meaning to go into a state of mania which by the end they don't recall what happened. Maybe it's in this state that they become the most dangerous. We see Yeon Woo lose his memories of how he cried and screamed to hold onto the colors of his mum in his mind, and that's again a hint that he's entering that cycle that he's trying to avoid. So we also have to keep an eye on that. If Monos are losing consciousness and having no control over their actions when they go too far, then it means it's starting to become even more dangerous for our couple as they interact.

The lack of control and power over themselves, the world and their love lives is heartbreaking and painful when you look at it. Monos have been stuck in this cycle for so long but then why are some monos able to avoid that. I'm certain Yeon Woo's mum and dad did not go through that issue, yes his dad died, but we don't really yet know the basis of his death, and I think if his mum had been involved then, Yeon Woo wouldn't think of her that fondly, so again it brings me to ask if we are all just agreeing with societal opinions on what monos are and if there is a way for them to get out of this powerless and uncontrollable situation. Can Yoo Han and Yeon Woo find a way before the dependency and blackouts increase and cause more suffering? Maybe, Yeon Woo is getting accustomed slowly to Yoo Han's color rush and they know how to reduce the fainting symptoms from too much exposure. Yoo Han may be able to do what he wants to do which is to help Yeon Woo find the control he's so desperately searching for over this condition.

We have two people who felt forced to be seen as abnormal and lonely in the world. Now they've found each other, they could be each other's companion and saving grace, who gives them more meaning to this bleak life they think they have, this happiness they feel, and yet we are also torn because they could also be each other's downfall and lead each other to a spiral of madness and guilt. It's so exciting to see where this story unfolds and what it would bring. There's still so much to analyse and look into, there's the kidnapping mystery of the mother, and with that Macbeth doughnut quote, I'm forced to believe that it might be a probe which is the actual culprit that has taken these six monos, especially for revenge or also an obsession of their relationship with their mono. The aunt is also foreshadowed to get soon hurt, and I wonder how Yeon Woo will deal with that, someone is threatening her to stop looking to the case, and she probably will find the answer before she is sadly eliminated. And we need to know more about Yoo Han, his family, background and how he knows so much about color rush and more. Is there more to his actions than just the desperate need to find someone to be by his side that he recognises or is he on his own journey to lack of control and power and madness because of his need to be with Yeon Woo. Let's find out together.

#color rush #colour rush #korean bl #kdrama #bl series #bl drama #cwg #fvete #january #not thai bl

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captains-simp · 3 years

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Carol Danvers ~ Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Chapter 1: Audacity

The bounty of a lifetime isn't one you're about to turn down, despite the life threatening challenges and rivals. The most irritating of which is an intergalactic superhero who becomes insistent on aiding you, whether you like it or not

Two

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"For the hundredth time, I don't know where he is! Either buy something or go someplace else."

Fuck, another dead end.

You searched the bartender's irritated eyes for any trace of a lie, already knowing you wouldn't find any but still holding onto a glimmer of hope you would catch a trace of something.

Nothing.

What had hope ever gotten you anyway?

"Just some Asgardian ale." You muttered. You really shouldn't have been buying such an expensive drink. Not to mention wouldn't be able to have much of it due to your plans of not passing out drunk that night. But you were just as frustrated and tired as the bartender.

A break could help. You lied.

You paid the bartender and tried to ignore the harsh feeling of regret already being planted in your gut. At least the alcohol would get rid of that - before it got worse.

Taking the glass, you dragged yourself to the back of the bar towards the corner you thought you wouldn't be disturbed in. That was usually the kind of environment you had your best ideas and tactics planned. The noise stopped your mind from wandering and the low level allowed you to concentrate. Even the slight buzz of the alcohol had its advantages.

But there was no success that night.

The bartender knew nothing. He was your final lead who would corporate with you. The next person you visited would be far less welcoming.

You had known that would happen when you accepted the job. It was going to be the hardest one you ever did, and the most rewarding. You had to keep reminding yourself that.

You're going to make a lot of enemies. You warned yourself for the hundredth time that week. It was true, you would. The number of people you could trust would plummet. You would have your own hit on your head. Was that really something you were prepared for?

I already have. Nothing will change. I've prepared for this. This is the bounty of a lifetime.

You were staring into your glass when she sat down. Her blonde locks were a blur in your peripheral, a momentary distraction from the recognisable colours of her suit.

It was hard to comprehend it for a second. She had arrived so suddenly and caught you unaware. Something you weren't familiar with. It was unnerving.

You sat upright and met her studious gaze. She was watching you carefully, as though trying to get a read on you. You did the same.

You had always wondered, maybe even hoped, that you would meet her. You were in two different lines of business but it wasn't like you hadn't crossed paths with heros before. There was usually some kind of mutual understanding, even some respect. You were quick to learn there wouldn't be any of that from her - not in that bar.

"Y/l/n." Carol stated, as though the pair of you were already acquainted. But it was far from a warm greeting.

Part of you wondered if you had done something illegal in your last job. Usually things like that were never dealt with, no one had the time to be chasing around bounty hunters when they were practically always on the move (and you saved the authorities a lot of trouble).

"Danvers." You replied. Both of you maintaining your stoic expressions.

"Captain Danvers." She corrected. You didn't acknowledge that and made no effort to correct yourself, wondering if it would damage that ego you had heard so much about, so she continued. "I've heard you have some information that could be of interest." She said. You didn't like where that was going. "What do you know about Daexire?" Fuck all. "Working progress." She quipped an eyebrow at that and waited for you to elaborate. You hoped she would be quick to catch on that you weren't much of a talker and that you had no interest in letting her swoop in to take your bounty.

"Do you know where he is?" God, no.

You breathed deeply through your nose before you leant forward onto your arms and flicked the side of your glass. The sound carried between you for a brief moment.

"Do you really think I would be sat here if I did?" Carol's eyes flicked down to the liquid in your glass, took in your outfit then finally returned to your slightly narrowed eyes.

"I wouldn't be surprised." You put a lid on the anger starting to replace the regret in your guts.

You were about to assure her that wasn't what you did, that whoever had told her about you didn't know you at all. She started talking again before you could, not picking up on - or maybe just not acknowledging - the trace of annoyance that may have slipped. You blamed the alcohol for that.

"Do you know anyone who does?" You did. That was a long list you were working through. Daexire was a famous man. But he was also a feared and respected one. Both were hard to overcome.

"I don't." Had it been another bounty and another hero, you would have told them. However a bounty like it wouldn't come up again, it was what you needed to escape that life you had forced yourself into. And Carol's complete disregard of your capabilites was definetly something that was going to encourage you. Maybe your pride was a little fragile.

Carol narrowed her eyes at you for longer than you were comfortable with, because you both knew she didn't believe you. You also both knew that you wouldn't tell her anything different. Yet she persisted.

"Daexire is a powerful man. He abuses that power and will continue to do so until he's stopped." The seriousness of her voice had a small voice in the back of your head urge you to tell her what she needed to know. She was right. Daexire was powerful, and so was Carol. But you knew what you were doing too.

"So I hear." Was all you said as your eyes stayed fixed on hers.

"This is serious, y/l/n." Carol warned.

"So I hear." Her jaw clenched firmly at that. You were glad to see you had gained the upper hand in some way. It certainly encouraged you.

"You're in way over your head with Daexire." It was your turn to clench your jaw. She didn't even give you the benefit of the doubt.

"And what makes you think you're not?"

Without a word, Carol held her arm out at her side and aimed her fist at an area over your shoulder. Swirls of yellow light flowed around her fist with spikes of blue and red among it.

There was no time to admire the lightshow. A blast of energy left her fist and fired across the bar, sending everyone into panic.

Everyone ducked down to avoid the blast and it's damage but you weren't focused on them, or even the photon blast. Sure, it was a little close for comfort, but Carol wouldn't hurt you. That you were certain of.

"You want to distract Daexire with a lightshow?" You quipped, feigning disinterest. Carol was far from pleased with that.

"You're going to get yourself killed trying to capture him." She no longer held herself back, set on saying something to make you second guess your stubborness. "Just tell me who can lead me to him and it will all be over so much quicker." Carol was growing impatient and didn't try to hide it, or perhaps she was unable to. You had been taking the piss more than anyone had in a long time.

"I can handle myself and I can handle Daexire." Your confidence in your knowledge and abilities had never failed you before.

You downed the Asgardian ale in one before Carol could get another word in. Embracing the instant, electrifying burn of the alcohol, you stood up from your seat and left the bar without looking back at Captain Marvel.

* * *

"I don't know anything." He was lying through his teeth, which were currently tainted a light red from the blood in his mouth.

Just as you had guessed, your visit wasn't welcome. The moment he opened the door to you he tried to slam it in your face upon recognition, instantly attempting to flee through the back door. He had put up a fight when you caught him - a surprisingly long one - that had ended with him tired to his own chair while you looked around the house and asked him questions.

You found nothing. You knew Daexire never liked having a paper trail of his work, but you would be kicking yourself if you didn't try.

"What was the last thing you designed for him?" You asked as your eyes wondered across the mantelpiece.

The man, Owen, was renowned for his weapons. They weren't exactly your style, but you had seen enough close up demonstrations of those weapons to know they were efficient to say the least.

They were all overtly large and had a hell of a kick to them (and must be a joy to try out) not to mention the most expensive weapons on the black market. So it was no surprise there had been countless rumours that Owen had designed one or two things special for Daexire. Whether it was a spineless ass-kissing attempt, a try for an alliance or just fear of being on Daexire's bad side, you weren't sure.

"Nothing. I've never had any business with him." You didn't have to turn around to know he was lying. Having him in your peripheral was enough.

"You're not getting out of that chair until I'm satisfied with what you tell me." You said, eyeing the figurine of an old fashioned Earth car.

"I have nothing else to say." Owen scowled.

"Maybe we could have a chat instead?" You spun around at the sound of the cocky voice.

Carol met you with an arrogant smirk at the sight of your confusion, wanting to know how she had snuck up on you without you noticing...again!

You watched her in annoyance as she strolled across the room towards Owen.

"Seems like you do know people who can help, y/l/n."

"Must have slipped my mind." Not bothering to conceal the lie. Carol hummed in response and trailed her focus back to Owen.

"Daexire. Where is he?" Carol demanded in a no-bullshit tone. You watched Owen carefully, curious to see if he was going to respond differently to the arrogant blonde, that would definetly be irritating.

"I already told that crazy bitch," he nodded in your direction, "I don't know." That wasn't a lie. He really didn't know. That didn't mean there wasn't other things he could share.

Carol clearly hadn't come to the same conclusion. In a second she had her arm raised and fired a photon blast across the room, making a prominent indent in the wall. That's getting annoying really quickly.

"He really doesn't know." You said as you leant back against the wall, your arms crossed as you watched the interaction.

"And how are you so sure?" Carol asked, completly unconvinced.

The corner of your lip twitched into a small smile. You weren't going to let Carol in on your secrets. At least not yet.

"I just do. So leave it."

"No chance." The swirls around her wrist started up again and this time Carol levelled her arm to Owen's chest. She wouldn't...would she?

Owen seemed skeptical too, willing to try his luck. "You're not going to kill me."

"Who said anything about killing? There isn't just one level to this thing, you know? It could just hurt...really badly." Carol left her implications hanging in the air as you both watched Owen fidget in his seat.

"I really don't know where he is-" Carol's fist lit up more and a soft hum emanated from it warningly. "Because no one does." He said in a rush, turning his face away. "He knows about the bounty and he doesn't trust anyone right now." Owen explained as fast as he could.

Carol glanced over at you, much to your surprise, and you nodded. He was telling the truth.

"So he's scared?" Carol asked, still holding her fist close.

"He's preparing."

"For what? Me?" You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore Carol's I'm-the-centre-of-the-universe attitude.

"For anything." That had you wondering just how many people were going after Daexire. You had assumed it would be very few. For most they wouldn't even come close and if they did it would be certain death.

"And that's all you know?" You knew it needed to be asked, but you hated that question because you were already certain of the answer. You looked up to have your thoughts confirmed. Truth.

You walked towards Owen and took a knife from your belt. He leant away for a moment but relaxed when you started cutting the ties.

Another dead end. You pondered if the knowledge that a lot of people were after Daexire would help you at some point. You knew you shouldn't let that optimism distract you.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Carol said in a mocking business woman tone.

Owen made the smart decision of not responding and rubbed his wrists as he watched the pair of you leave with another scowl.

"So where now?" Carol asked as you stepped out the door of the house with the blonde right behind you.

"Were you following me?" You accused as you took a step back to put some space between you.

"Yep." You didn't know if it was that Carol knew you would see through her lie or just that she wanted to declare that with some pride. The smug look on her face told you it was the latter.

It has been a couple days since your meeting in the bar. You would be lying if you said Carol hadn't popped up in your mind since then, wondering if you had made the right decision in brushing her off. But you really hadn't expected her to be following you.

"Well stop. This isn't happening." You motioned between the pair of you and made your way back to your ship to consider your options.

"I helped you out in there!" Carol called out as she jogged to catch up with you.

"You did fuck all." You scoffed. She didn't have a reply for that. You weren't entirely right - she did help - but you would have been fine on your own. Interrogation was something you excelled at. It wouldn't have taken you long to get those answers on your own.

"I can help." She insisted.

"Then help yourself, Danvers." Deliberately not calling her Captain.

You remotely opened the cargo door of your ship from the device around your forearm before you turned around to get another look at Carol.

"And don't follow me." You said as the door closed. She made no objections, but something told you you would be seeing the blonde hero again.

#enemies to lovers #brie larson #captain marvel #captain marvel imagines #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #enemies to allies to lovers #captain marvel imagine #carol danvers imagine #captain marvel series #carol danvers series #mcu

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randomingoftherandomness · 3 years

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The Bone of Impurity

So with the upcoming Winner is King, my brain got whirling with the thought of The Bone of Impurity which is arguably one of the main plot points of the novel and I thought I would do a bit of a meta for it? It is definitely something I hope they do not dilute for the Live Action adaptation but even if they did touch upon 1% of the shit that goes on into making a Bone of Impurity, it's still pretty Dead Dove Don't Eat. So I thought I would preempt it by actually putting down a primer on the Bone of Impurity.

I did not read the novel in Chinese and read it in English, so some of the more subtle themes present in the original work will have been missed by me. If anyone who has read the Sha Po Lang novel as it was written by Priest, do let me know if I have made any mistakes on any of the below ( •̀ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧

Fair warning, there's some pretty Nightmare Fuel inducing shit, so I'll be keeping things under a read more in case people get squicked by this lol I'm also basing my references around the translation that Northwest Flower did because that is the one I read.

Just a basic background on The Bone of Impurity:

It is essentially a curse unique to the Northern Man people who utilise it in moments where someone's country is broken and nothing remains but revenge. To attain that, they make a sacrifice to the 'evil' gods of their beliefs

It is a cruel and horrible affliction to put on the person, but the return for it is that the person who becomes a Bone of Impurity gains the strength, intelligence, foresight and abilities of two persons

Whoever becomes a Bone of Impurity is someone who is single-mindedly ruthless and bloodthirsty when pressed towards a goal; they will attain power and their near supernatural abilities will make them unstoppable in achieving their goals

They will also gain a sort of existence that is neither alive nor dead. Sort of a zombie-like living. They also don't live very long

For all this super abilities, the flip side for anyone living with the Bone of Impurity is that they will be constantly highly suspicious and paranoid of everyone and everything; they will be slowly driven mad by the visceral hallucinations that will leave them incapable of knowing what is real and what is fake (Volume 1, Chapter 26; Volume 3, Chapter 70)

A Bone of Impurity attack comes about when the afflicted experiences heightened emotions or moments of extreme stress (I seriously cannot list out all the times it popped up in the novel because we would be here quite long lol)

It manifests in dual pupils being observed in their blood-hued eyes, hypersensitivity of the senses, their body burning up, almost sleep paralysis levels of body-lockedness and they will experience extreme pain with the bouts of attacks lasting hours at a time (Volume 2, Chapter 50 & 51)

The method of 'refining' a Bone of Impurity is...

Basically taking two babies and putting them in a dark place with no air, no water, no food. One of the babies will survive while the other one dies (Volume 3, Chapter 70)

I'm not quite certain if they have to be blood related or not, but the examples given in the book all indicate that if they have a strong connection to each other, then it would be better and that the Bone of Impurity would better take

The dead baby is then... 'refined' with the arcane arts and medicines of the Northern Man Goddesses and fed to the surviving baby (re:baby cannibalism)

I told you it wasn't pretty...

In the novel, Chang Geng is the Bone of Impurity made by Hu Ge Er, his aunt, in order to bring about chaos and tumult to Great Liang that had subjugated her people. Chang Geng is repeatedly described to have almost scary levels of intelligence and foresight, to the point where some of the characters actually wonder if he is omnipotent.

Chang Geng is also revealed to have obtained characteristics of his cousin

One of the ways Shen Yi and Gu Yun identified Chang Geng as the missing Fourth Prince is the congenital defect of a toe - which, lol, the worlds where DNA testing did not exist - and Chang Geng insists that his toe deformity was caused Hu Ge Er (Chapter 8)

It is later revealed that this was one of the further side-effects of the Bone of Impurity where the afflicted would reflect characteristics of the 'devoured' counterpart (Extra: Souls returned home)

Now on to the meta bit:

Chang Geng has a pretty much single focus sexuality on Gu Yun; even when he wasn't clear on what the nature of those feelings were, he was already dedicated to the man, already thinking up ways of how he can support him in the future

Even when he was heartbroken by the reveal of who 'Shen Shiliu' was and the lies and the subterfuge that had flowed between them, just with an apology and assurance from Gu Yun, Chang Geng was already ready to forgive him

Now, we know that Hu Ge Er said with her dying breath that the Bone of Impurity will cause him to lose his mind and will cause the death of everyone he will ever love. I think she said this because she has already detected the level of dedication he has built for Gu Yun and also because she is a horrible person and wanted one last pot shot at tormenting Chang Geng

Through all his Bone of Impurity attacks, Chang Geng has one consistent thing that he fears the most above everything else - Gu Yun abandoning him, rejecting him, leaving him in any way

My thought is simple; what makes him different from the other Bone of Impurities that were explicitly said and described in the novel? One person. Gu Yun.

Had Gu Yun not saved him from the wolves outside of Yanhui Town, he would have definitely died right there and then being killed by the Northern Man wolves. I truly believed that at that time, Chang Geng really ran out there to die. With just the scant descriptions of what Hu Ge Er did to him throughout his childhood, even the brief glimpses into her horrible abuse, is enough to cement that he was very likely unable to handle everything anymore.

If Gu Yun had not shown up and took on the mantle of Chang Geng's Yi Fu - as clumsy and as emotionally stunted as he was to deal with a dependent - was kind to him without any sort of condition attached to it, if Gu Yun had not taken that spot in Chang Geng's heart and mind as a moral compass, guiding his path to tempering the more extreme effects of the Bone of Impurity, I have no doubt that Chang Geng would have destroyed Great Liang before he even turned 21.

Because of Gu Yun, Chang Geng plotted the way to peace for Great Liang; divesting of weak emperors and ushering in a new age of stability and peace, building a foundation for his nephew to take over and build upon. All because he knew that Gu Yun loved his country, loved the people, has broken his back time and time again to toil for peace and defend its borders.

In the novel, they even explicitly say that when Gu Yun is out doing routine inspections of the borders and stuff, Chang Geng essentially shuts down; starts living like a monk and a life without colour until Gu Yun comes back to him (I don't know which extra or chapter this is in because this post has been waaaayyyy too long at this point)

With Gu Yun, especially when he learns that his supposedly unrequited and unfilial feelings were not as unrequited as they seem, he found a path to a future where he can strive to live without pain and without worry. With Gu Yun, he could focus all of the ruthlessness and all the bloodlust and the brilliance and the horrors and make it into a fulfilment of Gu Yun's dream; to be able to walk away from the battlefield and live out the rest of his days in peace and leisure.

Think about it, especially if you have read the novel, how scary can Chang Geng get when Gu Yun isn't around to temper him?

Basically, yes, I am definitely saying that Chang Geng and Gu Yun doing the horizontal dance with no pants resulted in peace for the country lol

[Bit of Trivia] Chang Geng's name is also significant because, according to Hu Ge Er, it is the name of the 'Bone of Impurity' in the Chinese dialect (Chapter 6)

#sha po lang #feng huo liu jin #烽火流金 #杀破狼 #chang geng #spl meta #sha po lang meta #winner is king #gu yun #changgu #chang geng x gu yun

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