#but in order to create that perfection they have to do things that build resentment
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as a huge batjokes shipper i want batman and joker to hate each other in the sense they dont really hate each other, they just have really different goals and see their own version of potential in the other and right now hate is the best word for their situationship. they both love the other for what they could be but neither of them wants to be what the other one wants, and that's equally as frustrating as it is necessary for them to keep existing in their current roles. they're deadlocked and that fate surrounding each other is kind of the point -- we both have to be like this, the opposite of what the other wants, for us to keep existing at all, and for giving me that gift i both love and hate you. it's an agreement. i think the hate that's there now is born from an intense underlying love.
i think batman "hates" joker for being so amazing and smart and cunning, for being able to create grand gestures and schemes, to pull people together under his charisma and make them all believe in something, for being as extraordinary as he is but batman hates that he uses it to hurt people. he hates that joker can't channel his energy into doing something good for the world, that he hurts himself and others just because he wants to be batman's greatest enemy. i think batman wants to help joker but also hates him at this point for joker exhausting him, constantly getting hurt both emotionally and physically by him, joker never trying to improve his situation, throwing away other people's lives, showing batman he loves him by lashing out and hurting him. batman hates joker because he loves his rogues, he wants to help them, and he knows they can do better. he wants to live in a gotham that doesn't need batman but he still needs to be needed, because when there's no batman, what is bruce going to be? without joker, he will continue being batman, but it's an empty crusade. some of my favorite interactions between harvey and bruce are the ones where harvey thanks bruce for "always being there for me, never giving up on me, my very best friend." even with someone like harvey, bruce can still hold onto that hope for his rogues, never give up on them, keep going for them, even if it puts them through the cycle one more time.
i think joker hates batman in the most toxic way possible, but it's still love. i just think he's selfish and doesn't want batman to think about anyone else but him, the same way he operates for batman, but if he must think about other people then joker will make it as amazing as possible! i think he hates batman for wasting his time on ordinary people, people who are so boring that batman claims he has to protect and serve and love them but joker thinks it's all surface-level. batman won't kill joker but he'll leave room for people dying in his crusade. it's a choice he allows, and even if joker knows that's a morally fucked up way to put someone in a box, he doesn't care. batman is the type of person to train himself mentally and physically for decades and dress up in a half-silly-half-menacing costume so that everyone can have an idea about him. batman himself is not normal, and joker knows that and loves that! why is he wasting his time trying to save people that use him, abuse him, don't want him to be the best he can be? i think joker's motivations for loving batman and lashing out as if he hates him lie somewhere in between extreme admiration -- like i truly believe in your cause and that you're the right person to do it, but i'm so angry at you for wasting your time on other people and i'm so hurt and jealous that you choose them over me, just so you can be a hypocrite and let them die if i want them to anyways -- and anger at his hypocrisy -- like it's easy for joker to dedicate himself to chaos and just being in batman's life by putting batman in situations that force him to be a better and better hero, but how can batman sit there and choose and pick what morals he'll uphold and who gets to live and who gets to die?
i want to be your greatest enemy because you are the greatest hero ever, and the only way you and i can keep being the best at what we do is if we do it together, because of what we both believe in.
#does this make sense. they love each other because theyre perfect for each other#but in order to create that perfection they have to do things that build resentment#and in order to ebb that resentment they have to be in constant flux. back and forth. ebb and flow. good and evil. chaos and order.#obsession and indifference.... the two themes i think we miss out on the most bc it hurts when indifference is the opposite of love#and obviously these two cannot be indifferent toward the otther#but when they have plots that do they really fucking hurt!#like when lex luthor comes into the picture and helps joker and joker starts to make batman a little jealous#like okay maybe i dont need you to obsess over maybe any strong ideals can overtake me if u lnow what i mean#and then suddenly batmans gotta prove how well he knows joker and has to be on top of him at all times#um anyways i hope these kind of! made sense!!!!!!!!! djhdkjghijsdfhksdfh#like ideally i think joker just wishes he had batman all to himself but knows he has to share#and hes such a jealous baby that he makes it hard for batman bc of it#and batman is like yes joker jesus fucking christ i love you too but you have to let me have friends#and u have to stop killing people#and jokers like why are you friends with murderers and liars and thieves but IM BAD?#and batmans like bc i actually love everyone and want to help you all and that includes u#and jokers like jo fuck you hypocrtie hahaha see at least in my loneliness i have no laurels to rest on#and bruce is like i may struggle with my morals often but that is only because im always figuring out the best way to keep helping everyone#and if i lose sight of that ill go blind and be like you and then u wont have me anymore#lol sometimes funny tag convos get the dynamic better than the meaty posts#long post#anyways sorry i just havee 2937973957273 thoughts about them and so does everyone and i wanna throw my hat in
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Could you do Enhypen jay as a husband??
Enhypen Jay as a Husband:
Dice: Cancer, Jupiter, 8th House
Tarot: Four of Wands, Eight of Coins Reversed, Six of Wands, Eight of Cups Reversed, The Lovers, Seven of Coins, Page of Swords, King of Cups, Strength, Four of Coins Reversed
Oh my my. He’s a total lover boy. I think he’d really enjoy being a husband lol. It’s like he sees it as a goal to work towards, but he also doesn’t hold on to the idea too much, he thinks its something he’d like to do but only if it feels right. he’s not gonna marry just for the sake of being married, he wants someone he really loves and also someone that will help build a new life with him. He literally got so many ‘romance’ cards its insane! He’d be very energetic and loving, and also put in a lot of work towards the relationship. He might even being to neglect other parts of his life because he’s so focused on it. I think he likes partnership and wants that traditional stuff like building/finding a house together, working towards similar goals, growing, etc… He’s like extremely in tune with his own emotions and this also gives him the ability to be in tune with his partners. Im trying to see if there is any downsides or if he would show toxic traits but… i just don’t see it! He’s that perfect husband type its so refreshing. I do think he might have outdated ideas in some places, but i see with the page of wands an eagerness to learn how to make it work with his person if that is ever an issues. I think he idolizes marriage to an extent, its sort of part of his ideal life. He craves the meshing of souls that happens in deep intimate commitments. I think he also wants a soft place to come home to, he might really like domesticity and admire people who have those nurturing traits. He wants the ideal marriage, one where they dont have secrets or resentments and they��re able to co-create a beautiful life as they wish. It’s a common theme in many marriage/fs readings but i do see he might take a step away from his usual work, there would be a shifting of priorities here. He’s like working hard now in order to get to a place where his relationship can be his main focus. he could be prone to codependency lol but, depending on his partner, it could be a good thing for him. He’s just a generally energetic person and when he’s excited or happy about something he puts his all into it. Idk he’s just very nice every time i read for him lol! I do see he might be dissatisfied?? Or just resigned in some way. Maybe deep down he feels like his dream is impossible, i think he could hear a lot of negative things about marriage and this might get him down. he might feel like he’s too emotional or delusional about it and its possible he keeps a lot of this info hidden from others. He’s a very sensitive man in a world where those traits are not acceptable in masculinity, so he def keeps a lid on all of this sadly, he also may feel rejected in many ways. Maybe the romantic opportunities he’s had so far have been dissatisfactory and disappointing so he often thinks about how its could be difficult to even find a partner willing to be with him. There’s a slight pessimism but his feelings towards marriage are still very positive. Like i said he feels very dreamy, emotional, sweet, optimistic about the future. I hope all his dreams come true <3
Hope you guys like it!! Xoxo
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Never Fade Away
Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Fem!Idol!Reader A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name this is an extension of this, feel free to read :)
2022
nobody said showbiz was easy, but should it border hellish in order for something to change?
you loved johnny, and johnny loved you, that was a fact that you both knew so well— so when did things become so difficult?
in your and johnny’s case, opposites attract. but what you didn’t account for was that opposites also repel.
both of your lives were constantly in the spotlight, and this relationship even more so. with millions of eyes flicking over every move, every microtransaction, there is barely any room to just be.
you two were a match made for the stage, nobody could beat the stage presence you two shared when you performed, but this fame was taking a toll on you both.
in the short year you guys dated, it was like fire and ice. burning hot with passion and then freezing over with frostbite.
but as time went on, the cracks in the relationship began to show. the flaws in you both began to grow bigger and bigger but neither of you knew what to do, so you ignored it.
but ignoring was the absolute worst thing to do, and now you’re having screaming matches that last for hours, days, and then weeks of silence.
of course, the media is all over this.
“Johnny Silverhand’s New Victim”
“Y/S/N Seen Storming Out of Silverhand’s Apartment”
things could only go on for so long before you had to cut things off— something that nearly tore you to shreds.
johnny begged, he cried, he pleaded, he waited outside your apartment for hours on end. he damn-near kissed the ground you walked upon just so you would glance at him once more, because in his mind he cannot for the life of him make sense of why the perfect woman would just leave him.
but that’s exactly why you left. you left because he can’t fathom why the relationship was going to hell. you had to break it off because johnny was a sinking ship and you refuse to drown with him, no matter how much you might adore him.
that was johnny's breaking point and he hasn't been the same since.
while he dated you, he created his most iconic and best selling music that topped all the charts. you were his once-in-a-lifetime muse, and the world knew that.
but when you broke up, he lost that spark. his heart strings were torn apart and he couldn't pick up the guitar for months.
the only time he picked up the guitar was to play a solemn a-b-c tune while he recited the tragic poetry of his heart.
he'd release a few more singles that could all be chalked up to a last ditch effort of staring into the void and expelling the demons of his heart.
"Never Fade Away" was the last song johnny ever performed. that song was an homage to your memory and how you'd never fade from his own memories.
2023
it's been a year since you broke up with johnny and it hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows for you, despite what johnny likes to tell the media.
there were countless nights where he was holding you from behind, his steady breath a calm rhythm in your ear, but you'd wake up everytime in a gasp, frantically searching for him on his side of the bed.
it took you months to finally wash the sheets because you wanted his scent to linger for as long as possible. his cologne that mixed with his musk.
the first few months were wretched, but you grew to resent him. deep down you still ached for his touch, but you had to lie and say you wanted him dead, if not, then the aching pain of his memory would kill you first.
august 20th, 2023. a day that was supposed to blur into the past endless days, but the last thing you expected was to see the man of your dreams—and nightmares—wearing a bulletproof vest and riding in a militech helicopter.
similarly, the last thing johnny expected was to see the architect of his heartbreak walking out of the Arasaka building.
waves of emotions flashed across his face—awe, joy, hurt, and finally resentment.
johnny's scowl deepened and his resolve strengthened. Arasaka was not only the architect of his filthy world, but also stole the love of his life.
it wasn't rational to think that, but when has johnny ever been rational?
just moments before, johnny only planned to tear down the building. but now that he's seen you—walking out of that corrupt building with all of your lavish clothes and accessories—his aim shifted.
Arasaka stole everything from him. they ruined him. he has nothing left to lose.
in that moment, he made his peace with death.
he overtook the machine gun and let out a visceral warcry that he’s been choking down for years— everyone would pay for his pain and suffering.
august 21st, 2023, the very next day. over 4,000 dead, a crazy terrorist group, and you at the epicenter of it all.
some would brush you off as irrelevant, others would dub you as the “terrorist’s girlfriend”, blaming you for the demise of a beloved singer.
but despite the chaos of the outside world, you could feel your internal universe crumble. johnny’s body hasn’t been found yet but you are sure that he’s gone.
you’re so sure because you felt the deepest part of your soul chip off. the connection is severed. there’s a void inside of you, and you know all-too-well what johnny used to say about an abyss.
“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.”
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3 i'm open to cyberpunk requests so feel free to send me one <3 also, lmk if y'all wanna see more idol!reader content and/or have any ideas since i'm kinda rocking with it :) as always, have a great day and i'll see y'all in the next one <3
#yns world#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk 2077 v#cyberpunk 2077 fanfic#cyberpunk 2077 x reader#cyberpunk 2077 x v#johnny silverhand#johnny silverhand x reader#johnny silverhand x v#cyberpunk 2077 johnny#cyberpunk 2077 johnny silverhand#cyberpunk johnny#requests open
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Suguru scoffs a bit at her reaction to his unusual way of speaking about non-sorcerers - "We practically live in a zoo, you know. This entire world is overrun with animals." They're everywhere, cursed energy flowing uncontrolled until it creates monsters - monkeys make the damn mess and they're meant to throw away their lives cleaning up after them? What a joke. He could rant about it all day - and he has, on certain occasions - but he won't bore her with that yet. Jumping straight into his deranged rambling would drive her away at this point.
For a moment he watches the black smoke that flows from her hair - her appearance always made her stand out quite a bit amongst their peers. It's truly unique, something special - and something that guaranteed she'd never fit in with monkeys. Even if they couldn't see the plumes of cursed energy that radiate from her, surely they could see that something was different. Surely they could sense their insignificance in her presence, the weak sensing the power of the strong, knowing they could be crushed underfoot, trampled like the insignificant weeds they are. Or maybe his thoughts are getting away from him again and going to that murderous, vengeful place they always tend to go. That's probably it.
He has the audacity to laugh when she questions his motives, something genuine but with a slight edge of mania to it, just of a hint of the madness that's twisted his mind. "Please. What kind of monk would I be if I made you pay for your life? That's not what I have in mind." He waves his hand dismissively, like it's oh so ridiculous. "Forcing someone to work with you just breeds resentment. Someone who doesn't want to be here certainly won't be loyal, and that's the last thing I need, truly. So no, it's not like I'm going to force you to do my dirty work or anything silly like that. I guess you could say I just wanted to get on your good side - because what I'm looking for is strong allies."
There's his chance. Now he can finally go into his spiel. It doesn't feel right to deliver his monologue while sitting down, though, so he brings himself to his feet in one smooth motion and making a grand gesture with open arms. He wasn't always quite this animated, but again, showmanship. "You see, I defected from Jujutsu Tech with a goal. A dream, even: to create a world in which sorcerers can live freely. But isn't that impossible? How can sorcerers live in peace when there are curses rampaging about, preying on the weak? Ha!" Another short laugh, tilting his head back dramatically. "You know how curses are the result of all the cursed energy of humanity building up over time? Because sorcerers can control our cursed energy, we don't leave those same traces of cursed energy everywhere we go... Meaning curses are the sole fault of filthy monkeys who can't control themselves. So of course, in order to create a perfect world, I first have to take care of the pest problem."
His voice calms near the end, back to cold and logical, but still with that seething hatred hidden somewhere in his tone. He settles down, bringing himself back to the floor to be on the same level as his guest. "As you can imagine, that's a dream that takes a lot of work to achieve. Sure, I might be able to do it on my own, but the time it would take to gather enough curses to do so... Well, there's no point in making sorcerers suffer any longer than they need to." He shrugs, as if this were the most casual and mundane topic of conversation. It is for him at this point, he feels like he's explained this a hundred other times. "Like I said, I'm not going to force you to join my side. Beliefs like mine aren't something you can force people to accept. But I figured I'd take my chance and see if you'd hear me out - you'd be of great help, you know." He smiles - he's sure that she'll just think he's crazy, unhinged, a madman for suggesting something so drastic... But hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained. It's not like she's the self-righteous type that would kill him for his intentions. She doesn't seem that way, at least, especially not after he saved her life. "Think about it, the kind of life you could have - that's all I ask."
AT FIRST, PERSEPHONE WONDERS IF THEY MISHEARD HIM. a side effect of the blood loss, or perhaps simply a mistake in auditory processing. but what other word could she have misheard as monkeys? geto glides across the room and sits facing the futon where she lay, red-spotted bandages wrapped tightly around her abdomen where the bite wound sinks deep into her side. persephone doesn't make to shoot upright as their instincts tell them to; they don't cut and run, barrel past the owners of the voices that drift through the closed doorway. they push themself up on one prosthetic arm, the whir and click of the carbon-fiber machinery audible in the silence of the room, the slow pulse of cursed energy lighting up the seams between metal plates in brilliant blue.
thankfully, geto absolves her of her confusion when he continues speaking. so he was saying monkeys — and it doesn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out who he speaks of. not when she takes into account what he told her in the alleyway. the reverence with which he spoke of strong sorcerers, the casual objectification in his tone now. his cultists, then: in particular, those who he does not consider strong. those who are expendable, a resource, a commodity. in a way, it reminds her of the way her boss views the majority of the unseen. they aren't nearly this direct about it, but she's been able to surmise over time that they do not consider most people's lives valuable.
when it comes down to it, a religious cult and a crime syndicate aren't all that different. faith is as much a currency as money.
interesting... so the monk getup is a means to an end. working her brain has always been a method of relaxation for persephone: solving puzzles, taking herself through a complicated problem, creating a detailed plan. geto is such a puzzling fucking individual that paradoxically, decoding his strangeness puts her more at ease. a fraction of the tension melts from her frame, pulls away, dissipates into the air with the smoke wisping around her.
at the mention of tea, they shake their head in silent refusal. he may have brought her out of harm's way, but that doesn't make him trustworthy enough to accept food or drink. ❝monkeys, huh. i don't suppose you broke into the fucking zoo. ❞ a pause; absentmindedly, they gather the endless ocean of inky hair over their shoulder, letting the ends pool in their lap. they watch, for a moment, the curls of black smoke that plume up from its ends and rise in front of her in otherworldly coils before dissolving into space as if they were never there.
a side effect of her parents' dark deal with a curse before the twins' birth. persephone's hair is straight from the world of curses, lightweight and cool to the touch; within its deepest pockets of darkness, if the light around you is low enough, you may catch the faint glimmer of stars. her brother got demonic eyes. seph has always thought she got the better end of the stick on that front — at the cost of holding both twins' cursed energy within her body, enhanced by the curse-fragment in her soul, enhanced by the rage, enhanced by an innate technique that may one day kill her. orion got off lucky. the sorcerer world is a goddamn trash fire.
hostility edges into her voice again, dark eyes taken over by the caution of a cornered predator. ❝ okay — cut the shit, geto. what do you want from me? people don't pull acts of kindness without an ulterior motive. just lay out the debt so i can settle it and get out of your damn hair. ❞
#— i get dark only to shine / IN CHARACTER.#— i'll make you a believer / V; CURSE USER.#huntershowl#drama queennnnn#you sly dog you got me monologuing!
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I’ve seen some folks come down rather harshly on Mon Mothma’s daughter Leida for being ��a brat” but I feel like this ignores the serious problems in Leida’s family life that would cause her to react in this way.
First, it’s clear that Mon Mothma and her husband Perrin Fertha do not have a good marriage. It is effectively a loveless marriage. Any child growing up in that environment would have picked up on the hostility and resentment between the parents and it does not create a good environment for a child’s emotional development.
Second, given the dialogue between Mon Mothma and Leida, this is not likely to have been the first time these feelings have been spoken. There is likely a repeated pattern of Leida feeling like her mother is not there for her while her father is. Conversations like this do not just suddenly pop out of the blue, this is probably a continuous issue. One that Perrin hasn’t done anything to help reconcile but also one that Mon Mothma herself is not dealing with it all that well either. When your child is upset, telling them they need to just follow your orders and still keep to the schedule doesn’t exactly inspire them to feel warm and fuzzy towards you. And the reality is, given how much work is on her shoulders, there is the very real possibility that it comes at the expense of her family life, that she can’t always be there for her daughter because she has to be out there doing things to help save the galaxy and start a rebellion. And while we understand that importance as viewers, Leida is a child who doesn’t have our omnipresent outsider view, she’s a child whose mother is not there for her, and that cannot be easy and will take time for a child to truly grasp the bigger picture.
Third, Leida is actually not technically wrong either when she accuses her mother of just using her to show that she’s involved. We know that Mon Mothma is moving about contacting various people in building up this rebellion, and she knows she’s being watched. This means she has to carefully plan her schedule and use various events or people as cover, which is likely why Mon Mothma was rather upset at Leida changing the schedule. Because it changes the plan, she might have to use a new cover that isn’t taking her daughter to school and it might make things more dangerous. She knows the stakes but Leida doesn’t, so to a young girl whose mother is seemingly distant and a politician, it feels to Leida that she is being used, which technically is correct but just not for the reasons that Leida might think.
We know and love Mon Mothma for being this almost saintly rebellion leader, but I think it’s also just important to realize that she is not perfect to her daughter for very valid reasons too, and that’s okay. Just because she is a great leader doesn’t mean she has to be a great parent. It’s okay to let Mon Mothma have flaws, it makes her a complex and interesting character, and it makes us realize that there are consequences to choices she makes, even if some might mean putting more of a distance between her and her child.
#mon mothma#perrin fertha#leida mothma#leida fertha#star wars#star wars andor#star wars spoilers#andor spoilers#star wars andor spoilers
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Turbulent Beginnings
This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.
The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.
Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.
Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.
One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.
It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.
The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?
For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.
Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.
His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.
The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.
In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.
At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.
When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.
The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.
No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.
He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.
Demon.
That is what they called him. Was that what he was?
He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.
The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.
They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.
They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.
He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.
He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.
Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.
When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.
Alas, it was not meant to stay.
One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.
Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.
Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.
One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.
Guess she kept her word.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.
The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.
There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.
That’s not to say his time was wasted.
Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.
Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.
He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.
Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.
The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.
The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.
Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.
Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.
Then heshowed up…
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.
The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.
He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.
Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.
Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.
Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.
It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.
He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.
“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.
“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.
“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.
“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.
“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”
Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.
“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”
Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.
“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.
A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”
“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.
“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.
“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”
“What?”
“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”
“Other demons?”
“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”
“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.
But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.
It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.
The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.
But maybe, maybe this time could be different…
Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.
Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.
On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.
It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.
From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”
“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.
“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.
“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.
Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”
“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.
Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”
“Then why have I been for so long.”
“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.
Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.
Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.
“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.
“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.
“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.
Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.
“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”
“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”
Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”
In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”
For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”
“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.
“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”
One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.
“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
How did this happen? How did this happen?!
One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.
Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.
For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.
Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.
Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.
All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.
But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?
Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.
There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.
He just had to be patient.
Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.
He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.
Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.
Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.
“What happened to me?”
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
Five hundred years.
Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.
He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.
He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.
Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.
But he couldn’t dwell on that.
He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.
But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.
Somehow.
§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§
He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.
He was an idiot!
The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.
He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?
He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.
Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.
Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.
Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.
Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.
Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.
#lego monkie kid au#Vanishing Shadow Au#six eared macaque#liu er mihou#sun wukong#abandonment issues#no communication#angst#white macaque
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A REVIEW: Scum Villain’s Self Saving System (MXTX)
I. GENERAL OVERVIEW
LENGTH: 81 Chapters and 20 Extras
GENRE: (BL) Chinese Cultivation Novel - Historical Period
MAIN COUPLE: Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu
BRIEF SUMMARY: After binge reading legendary harem stallion web novel “Proud Immortal Demon Way”, Shen Yuan (a millennial increasingly frustrated by the story’s outrageous and senseless plot) dies choking on food and transmitigates into the novel... as the villain shizun of the main protagonist, Shen Qingqiu. Shen Yuan, now Shen Qingqiu, must navigate through the original PIDW’s plot points to gain the favor of the original protagonist, Luo Binghe, to avoid being tortured and cut into a human stick. However, in doing so, Shen Qingqiu eventually finds that the original plot changes, awakening new feelings in the protagonist previously unexplored.
II. CATEGORICAL RANKING & BREAKDOWN
This was my second danmei novel I had ever read, and one that really helped. familiarize me with the ins and outs of the typical cultivation novel tropes. With Shen Qingqiu’s unfortunately relatable inner monologging complete with millennial, largely inappropriate vocabulary AND emoticons was undeniably very entertaining, and I spent the majority of the book laughing along with his misfortune. It was a book in which the reader got to experience the stereotypical romance, adventure, and fantasy tropes through the lens of a character living out these tropes with a mindset not so dissimilar from our own. With that, let’s move on to my personal categorical rankings for this novel.
1. CHARACTERIZATION ~ Rated 7/10
With every single character within this book, I can confidently say I really liked their characterization. Each character’s personality was constructed in a way that did not adhere to one stereotype, and the interactions between characters never felt stale or forced (especially in a book where Shen Qingqiu has a sudden change in personality, I was worried these interactions with characters such as Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge would be strange, but it was indeed quite cute and funny). Even with the minor characters that seemed to be the main antagonists Tianlang Jun, their characterizations and relationship still had a familial sense of warmth that made them feel a lot more human. However, due to the length of the book, not all the side characters were really flushed out in terms of backstory.
With the main protagonist, Luo Binghe, as to deviate from the original “black hearted protagonist” of PIDW, his back story and past abuses led to his motivations as a person being a lot more complex, deeper, and especially tragic. Through the novel we are able to see that the original protagonist crafted from resentment started out as a boy too naive, with a heart full of warmth and kindness, only to be bludgeoned and abandoned over and over again. Even by the end of the book, in interactions with Shen Qingqiu, we can still evidently see Luo Binghe’s past emotional trauma within his feelings of inadequacy and his villainization at the peak. I personally really liked this new depth of character that gave me a new perspective on his actions and motivations. Generally, I also love the change in Binghe’s demeanor when he’s around Shen Qingqiu vs. anyone else, and one can easily forget how manipulative, cunning, and overpowered he is as the “protagonist”. He is endearing and I love him so much, but that’s deviating from the original point.
As discussed previously, Shen Qingqiu’s character, while having a. fairly distinct personality, is almost a self-insert character that the reader can. project on directly. While I THOROUGHLY enjoyed his narration throughout (which served as much needed comic relief), I personally wished there to be a little more character development, especially regarding the paradigm shift that occurred in his mindset and attitude towards the other characters in the book. At the beginning of the novel, there is a certain subconscious wall Shen Qingqiu creates, where he thinks of the other people as strictly “character from PIDW with concrete fates and personailites”, which is especially evident in the way he treated Luo Binghe post-Immortal alliance conference. But overtime, there is a subtle shift in which by the end of the book, we see Shen Qingqiu resolve some misunderstandings (to an extent) and see him start to regard the characters around him as true people that he can build deep relationships with. I personally wanted this aspect to be highlighted a little more and that this had good potential in being an essential piece of plot could have led to more resolution (discussed below).
2. WORLD BUILDING ~ Rated 9/10
From my perspective, especially in cultivation novels, world building becomes exceedingly important in order to aid the reader in understanding the power structure and dynamic of the cultivation world, which reflects in the interactions between characters of different factions. Because of Shen Qingqiu’s commentary as a “reader of PIDW”, I felt the author was able to do a stellar job in explaining the different dynamics within the sect and between the different peak lords, as well as major conflicts between demons. Hence, it was really easy to understand and follow how the world revolved around each of the conflicts, as well as justify some of the characters’ motivations within SVSSS.
3. PLOT DEVELOPMENT ~ Rated 8/10
What I found extremely compelling about the plot of this book in particular is that it is a lot more complex and darker than the audience originally grasps. With my first read, I found the book hilarious through and through, and couldn’t get enough of the comedic aspects and commentary that seemed to seep through to even the most serious moments. But as I started to think back on some of the events that ended up transpiring, I came to the realization that the plot itself is extremely tragic. If one were to think about the book from Luo Binghe’s perspective, as a child abandoned with no one to care for and love him, to then finding someone who cherishes him and believes in him, only to have that very same person push him off a cliff and have him experience hell for the next 5 years; frankly the plot is really devastating. That’s also what makes it such an interesting book to read and then reread.
Another aspect of the plot that is notable is how outrageous some of the events are, especially when thinking from a logical perspective. From Shen Qingqiu dying and growing a new body underground, to the thousands of elephant demons (?) that Luo Binghe gathers, one is simply overwhelmed by how random the book is sometimes. Even better, we get to witness this exact reaction through Shen Qingqiu, as someone to transmitigated into this nonsensical book. Hence, somehow the book manages to be completely unrelatable, yet also very relatable, hitting both extremes in a perfect equillibrium.
My main reservation/criticism of the plot is personally~ I felt that it lacked a little bit of resolution in some of the major plot points, such as “Bingge”, as well as the Bingqiu relationship. A lot of the original misunderstandings and misgivings between Shen Qingqiu during and after the 5 years (pre-relationship) weren’t really resolved. It sort of left me wanting some more development from Binghe where his is able to heal from his past to a certain extent. Regarding Shen Qingqiu, I also wanted to see more development with him in terms of his obvious shift in mindset from viewing the people around him as characters from the original PIDW, to actual people whose fates aren’t predetermined. It could be a fun idea to explore more. But these are just small things that really don’t take away from the experience that is reading SVSSS.
III. FINAL THOUGHTS
RECOMMENDATION: YES I DO RECOMMEND IT , especially for people who enjoy comedy, modern humor mixed with ridiculous xianxia plot points, and an action filled BL cultivation novel. It really is an absolute joy to read and all the characters are so endearing in their own way - Luo Binghe with his selective duality and various complexes, Shen Qingqiu with his alleged “straigtness” and internalized heteronormativity, Tianlang Jun with his desire to be a malewife, the misunderstandings in the relationship between Shen Qingqiu and Zhuzhi Lang, etc. etc. It is really a fun read and I thoroughly enjoyed it. This concludes my first casual book review haha.
#danmei#mxtx#mxtxnovel#svsss#scumvillainsselfsavingsystem#shenqingqiu#shen qingqiu#luo binghe#book review#hanashonestreviews
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WE BEST LOVE (Fighting Mr 2nd) DEYI and The Theme of Control and Power
You know that show that you know you can talk about forever and be obsessed with, although it seems pretty simple and not really that complicated to analyse and break down? Well, We Best Love (WBL) is precisely that in the most amazing way. I'm not shocked because I've always been a fan of the History Series, especially with this writer and how she creates her projects; it's not surprising that WBL happens to be the most comfortable show to lean into. It feels like entering a cheesy, cute, romantic novel. Yet, it still is the most angsty, passionate, drama-filled plot enough to make you want to run into the screen and comfort these comfort characters, scream at them when they're not making sense, and keep watching despite the pain when you feel like they've gone too far. And I kept quiet and watched season 1 of WBL. I was entranced and in love because it was so simple, but it felt perfect for me; it was a distraction, it made me smile, and it also made my heart quiver. I adored all the actors, and I also enjoyed how the storyline was told. It doesn't have to be so deep and full of clues, but there were facets to the characters, clear set rules in understanding their character roles, and small hints building in the last episode that all was not well and a lot was coming for our couple in the future. It broke my heart because season 1 was focused on the immaturity and naiveness of how we feel when we enter university for the first time; the excitement, but still innocence of hopefully finding someone to mesh with, and yet the dumbness/naivety that can distract us or slow us down before knowing who that person is. Season 1 was light, funny, and sweet because that's how our doe-eyed souls feel when we first enter college and get to discover who we are. Season 2, on the other hand, is focusing on maturity, actually dealing with our flaws, coping with the responsibilities and hardships of life, duty and obligation vs wants and need; the characters are older now, affected by the world's cruelties/situations and now have walls up higher than before.
And in order to help us get that vibe, even more, our couple's relationship is put through the wringer, hearts torn, misunderstandings prolonged unfairly, and everyone broken just staying in a state of pining, longing and anger, anger, at what was lost to them; the innocence/fun of falling in love, the guise of being in control, and the joy of being free and dumb in love. It isn't a surprise to see our main character, Shide and Shu Yi, see their flaws fleshed out more in the open and actually increased and exposed for us, the audience, to watch and dislike. Shu Yi's short temper becomes even more exposed as he struggles to have control over his past and feelings for Shide once they reunite, and Shide's withdrawal of emotions also becomes even more strained and put on focus as he also realises what he has lost. Both of them enter this sick twisted, and tense need for control and power that their relationship becomes intense and full of passion hidden behind the anger and resentment. So I'm going to break down the idea of Control and Power with these twos relationship, a certain theme that has been there since season 1, and why now it's something both rivals are struggling to obtain to win, especially Shuyi, who is determined this time to not be Mr 2nd when it comes to Shide again. Hence the title Fighting Mr 2nd.
Misunderstandings and Miscommunications
Let's first focus on the miscommunication/ separation at hand. This exposed so much already about how these two felt about the power they hold over the other. Let's first look at what season 1 exposed; for Shide, Shuyi has always had control over him since the moment his young self told him that he would be a companion to him whenever he was lonely. Shide has desperately loved Shuyi and did everything possible to ensure he kept Shuyi's focus on him no matter what. The way he decided to do this was to put himself in a place more powerful than Shuyi; he put himself always ahead of Shuyi, ensuring he was always number one no matter what. This was how he controlled the situation; for him, as long as Shuyi noticed him, he was happy to continue hoping for a change and also making him react. In Shide's mind, he never wanted to force/ make Shuyi fall for him because he didn't think it was possible. He just wanted to be by his side (as a 'friend') until graduation was over.This shows me already some stuff about their relationship. How Shide perceives Shuyi; one, he didn't trust in Shuyi's love as being as strong as he was. He even says it to Shuyi on the bridge when they confessed to each other. For him, Shuyi was always the 'lucky' one; the one in control, the real winner because he had him in his palm of his hand. Shuyi was the one who made him whipped, the one he chased after secretly for 8 years or more. Shuyi has always been the one with the hold over him. Immediately they got together, Shide also tells Shouyi his confusion but the happiness that Shuyi is also feeling the same towards him.
Shide can't believe the switch in Shuyi's personality and actions for him; Shuyi still tried to play of Shide's grand confessions of love in the last episode, and Shide was okay as long as Shuyi kept paying attention to him. But in my head, it showed that Shide didn't think Shuyi's love was as unconditional, as strong, as uncontrollable as his. He didn't know he had any hold over Shuyi. He thought it was his constant love and chase that won Shuyi in the end, so what happens when he thinks he pushed Shuyi away? In Shide's perspective, he's the one who slacked behind and pushed Shuyi away by disappearing for 5 years, which fair enough makes sense; Shuyi has every right to be angry at being ghosted. But Shide blames himself and thinks it's because his show of love was weakened and slowed down that it caused Shuyi to retreat and walk away easily. Because he wasn't fighting anymore for their love, he lost Shuyi's attention. Again this suggests how fickle he believes Shuyi's feelings are and how still in his head he believes he's the one with the long-lasting love/feelings.
Shide's personality is someone who likes to be in control (like Shuyi but for different ways and reasons); he's kind of had to always be; ever since his dad died, he's had to try and make it his goal to become stronger and better to take care of his mum, and to ensure they live well. This is connected to the theme of Duty and Obligation in the show. Even in Season 1, the reason he has to leave for America for a bit is to ensure his mum settles in nicely. Even after that, he's again the one responsible for ensuring whoever was sick in America was taken care of. It's because of his need to be responsible and be in control that Shuyi always feels distanced from him (mocked, misunderstood, and hurt). Shide is someone who likes to keep a calm demeanour. He likes to take things on by himself; he likes to not show when he's hurting or alone (apart from that one time as a kid where he broke down on Shuyi). In fact, it might be because Shuyi is the only one who did see him in his vulnerable state and gave him an aim to become stronger that made him cling on to his love for him and devote himself to his love for him. But in looking so in control of his emotions, Shuyi always saw Shide as someone who loved winning and making him feel like a fool. In season 1, he thought Shide did it on purpose to see him lose control and be a mess, and in season 2, he's resorted back to that thinking. Let's look at why?
No 1 for You (Shide’s pov) vs Fighting Mr 2nd (Shuyi’s pov)
Shuyi did not also understand the proper depth of Shide's feelings. I guess we should have seen it coming that he didn't fully understand how deep they were, he had heard ideas from Shide's mother, he had heard grand declarations from Shide (after he was the one to pry it out of him), but he didn't actually trust it fully. I think because he didn't fully trust both their sexualities and identities when it came to their feelings. Like I said, we should have seen it coming when he admits he doesn't want to fall for a guy, but also it's because it's Shide he's okay with being in love. However, people complained about this because in BL, we're tired of the I love you, not boys trajectory always chosen. However, it was more than that. I think because of what's embedded in people's minds at a young age (due to society), there might have also been, as a result of that, hints of internalised homophobia (IH) with Shuyi. And that's why it made sense for him to wither and assume that Shide truly would be with someone else and be married and have kids. Because of IH, Shuyi may have automatically thought it made sense that Shide would move on, get married and have kids in America (hence as he said in episode 1, he was disqualified by choice) because, in his head, he didn't understand Shide's love and devotion for him.
It also points to insecurity and fear that he might not be enough/the better option for Shide. One of his pet peeves was that he was always coming second to Shide, he was always being seen by himself as second best, and he probably also thought he had become the second-best option to Shide living a great 'fulfilled' life according to 'society' where he is married to a wife and has kids. This is why in the special episode, he also gives up easily and wishes him the best refusing to actually question why Shide would do this to him after all the stupid and grand promises he made a year ago before he left. Promises of marriage, promises of devotion, of being his family etc. Of course, this felt like Shuyi was thoroughly mocked and lowered because he had lost again to Shide by letting his heart trust him and wait for him. Now, in season 2, he's determined to not do that too. To not lose control of his heart ever again. To not fail to Shide in any way, shape or form ever again.
Shuyi; The Guise of Control
Shide is always acting on the surface like he's in control, causing Shuyi to always think he's more vulnerable and a fool, and it makes season 2 make more sense. Even if Shide says, he'll make Shuyi look at him again, how on earth is he meant to ever let that happen? He literally manipulated the situation in season 1 and got Shuyi's walls down only for him just to cheat on him, so how can Shuyi trust just his actions on the surface?
No matter how devoted Shide is looking, even at the end finally showing a hint of losing control under Shuyi's hold which Shuyi was not expecting because he thought Shide will always want to again be 'proper'. And in the past, it was Shuyi who always pushed for skinship once they started dating; Shide always again acted like he hadn't been affected; this was discussed actually in that final episode. Even if on the surface Shide looked affected, Shuyi wouldn't trust that. Because Shide is always holding back whilst Shuyi always feels like a fool, never being able to control himself around him, never being able to control his emotions or have a poker face around him. From the first episode in season 1, Shuyi has always been uncontrollable when it came to Shide, whilst Shide always came out looking cool.
Shuyi always ended up in the most vulnerable shameful state (forgetfully hurting himself in reaction to Shide's presence, being the one distracted and bothered by skinship in the last episode whilst Shide studied, or even being exposed and screaming down a bridge, his love for Shide to make Shide come out and say how he feels). Shuyi always ended up being weakened and frustrated because Shide seemed like he had everything in order. Shuyi is now adamant he's lying or that Shuyi is still the one who's more in love with him (his biggest fear). For example, the slap he gives to Shide (exposed his lack of control of emotions around Shide) and yet Shide immediately tried to control the situation, making Shuyi again look like the irrational one and the most affected one. Also, as mentioned it Shuyi (in Shuyi's head), who proceeded to force/get Shide to confess. Because Shide was too focused on controlling his environment, avoiding the situation, holding back his feelings, whilst Shuyi's emotions always get the best of him and caused him to still lose in front of Shide. Basically letting Shide get his way all the time. And by doing that, it was Shuyi who ended up waiting for a year and then being 'cheated' on, being ghosted with his heart shattered.
The Fear of Weakness and Vulnerability
Other examples are Shide going to Shuyi's house and ignoring him in his own home (again, Shuyi can't even control his environment when it comes to Shide, everything he owns feels little because Shide seems to have a hold over him in everything), and proceeding to make him the fried rice. Even as the vice president who's meant to be in control and be in charge of letting go of people (which his father is pressuring him to do, he has no choice in the matter), Shide is the CEO (a higher position) of the company and is adamant on convincing Shuyi to do no such thing. It's a big fear to Shuyi, which is why he's determined to ensure he does fire these people because if he doesn't, It means he's again coinciding underneath Shide's hold over him, over everything he has, including his heart.
The act of making fried rice in Shuyi's house as if nothing is going on, Shide ignoring his tantrums and outbursts does again what Shuyi hates, makes him feel stupid, weak and vulnerable. It makes him feel like he's losing again to Shide. This is why I think he really has no other option in his mind to win but to use emotions and feelings (what he can't control) as a weapon to capture Shide. By making Shide fall for him emotionally and then being the one to break his heart, that's how Shuyi thinks he'll finally be able to break down Shide's calm, façade that he's always in control, that's how he stops being Mr Second. Obviously, it's a stupid idea because Shuyi literally becomes weakened just by being in Shide's presence. To be anywhere intimate with him, he will only resort to his own emotions being, even more, harder to handle even if he tries to play it off as just attraction.
And for both of them, control is even harder physically with emotions because they've been 'starved' of each other's presence for 5 years, of each other's touch and connection. As shown in episode 1 of FMS, they're both in a state of pining, longing and waiting for one of them to give in. For 5 years, Shuyi was secretly fighting against the truth that he had been waiting for Shide to return even when he tried to focus all his energy and heart into hate and bitterness (to distract him from the pain of waiting). Shuyi never wanted to give up on hope, never wanted to let go of Shide, because it's out of his control to forget or move on. He couldn't do that even if he tried. This is why he also tries again to use a power play with a fake girlfriend that he couldn't remember the name for. Every single sentence he said was how he compared himself to the girl he thought Shide cheated on him with. He was saying it to hurt Shide, but in the end, he was still exposing his own hurt and insecurity about why he thought Shide left him.
Shide; Control Vs Sacrifice
Meanwhile, the audience all know that, on the other hand, Shide is the one who has no control over the matter. No matter what he seems like on the surface/ in front of Shuyi, Shide is completely tired, weak and frustrated once he sees Shuyi again. It's frustrating because the only time he shows his emotions is once Shuyi isn't looking; he cries only after Shuyi has left, always holding his feelings and only letting it out when he's by himself. Although to Shuyi, it seems he's in control, being the CEO, being the one who disappeared for 5 years, being the one who is successful and influential, Shuyi couldn't be more opposite in his thoughts. Shide has no control over the CEO position; it's not a job he chose for himself, it's not what he wanted to do, he did it because of again his responsibility to his mother and family. Shide isn't the one who chose to disappear for 5 years in America; he again had no control over the situation because someone else was ill, and he had to be the one to help his family again become stable. And lastly, Shide isn't successful and as influential as he's sold his company to Shuyi's father, so he actually isn't in control of his position, of his life essentially. What Shuyi sees as control is unfortunate because it's actually Shide's sacrifice; he's had to lose what he actually wants to be in that position. All he's ever wanted is Shuyi. Ironic no?
Even in Season 1, when he seemed to be the one controlling the situation, he wasn't; he always did everything to get Shuyi, and for 8 years him being 'in control/winner' as Shuyi puts it wasn't him winning because he always didn't get Shuyi's heart before he confessed. And that's what's so heartbreaking about Shuyi's misunderstanding of Shide; when he first sees Shide in the past in his memories, he doesn't know the moment Shide fell for him; he just sees Shide winning over him, he doesn't even notice the first person who had control over the other was him, because he already took Shide's heart, trust and devotion. This is why Shide told him he was the lucky one; he was the one who was winning, who was always in control. Not Shide.
Love and It’s Hold and Power
And again, although Shide is the one he thinks he's second-best to. Shuyi has a lot of power over everyone else since he was young. He's been a spoilt, rich boy who's had control over his friends (in a positive way like they felt they had to watch him and babysit him), he's had control due to his father's power, and he's had control now over Shide just due to again his father's job and his heritage. And I think that's why he can't stand the fact that no matter what he does when he's with Shide, he loses all of that power; he's reduced to wanting to do something for someone, like in season 1, washing the dishes, being humble, exposing his feelings to Shide so loudly and vulnerably. Shide is the only person who makes him want to do all that, and he hates it. It's why when the employees in episode 1 call him again Shide's girlfriend (even though literally Shide bending down to tie his laces is an act of losing control and him being in control of him), it bothers him because it makes him look weak. He's the one flustered by the actions; his heart is shaken by the movement. What he sees about Shide vs what's genuinely being shown/exposed is so opposite, so of course, they're more prone to misunderstandings because they've always both seen the situation very differently.
So WBL has always been using this theme of Control vs Power with Shide and Shuyi. And how, because of love, both of them feel this lack of control over each other. Mostly from season 1, when Shide gets closer to Shuyi using the idea of rivalry to see who can win over each other, even though he gives in always to Shuyi on purpose. Shuyi's misunderstanding has always been an issue since episode 1, since even when Shide kissed him in the pool. This time around in season 2, we get to deal with the actual seriousness/reciprocation of what that misunderstanding and fear of lack of control can do to them. And how others can manipulate that (Shuyi's father probably). Either way, these twos relationship has become angst central because Shuyi really is fighting Mr second, he's determined this time not to lose to Shide no matter what and he's finally using like the last way he can possibly gain control over Shide. His body. The most vulnerable part of a person is exposed when they sleep with someone else; by getting Shide to even want to give in to him as he requested, he can expose everything about Shide, his weakness, his heart, his truths. Hence, it makes sense the relationship is using attraction and chemistry as a powerful tool for the storyline. Shuyi isn't going to be able to even go through with anything because he's just as vulnerable and weak with Shide as Shide is with him.
I love angst, and I love power plays and fight for control in rivals to lovers stories. I love misunderstandings and requited, but they don't know the trope. I just really enjoy WBL, and I'm so excited to see what happens next. Looks like Shide is finally going to lose that façade he has on the surface once he breaks down under the influence of alcohol; probably, poor boy has been suffering so much. And I think both of them will soon need to gain control over their situation together so they can defeat the obstacles that come in the form of Shuyi's father, society, company issues etc. So yeh, I'm loving this, and it's such a breath of fresh air. Friday is too far away, sigh.
#we best love#wbl#wbl: fighting mr. 2nd#we best love: fighting mr. 2nd#fighting mr.2nd#bl series#bl drama#cwg#march#gao shi de#zhou shu yi
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Bnha chap 302 was crazy! So many stuff have been revealed! What did u think of it?
(So before I start, I just want to say, sorry it took me a few days to answer this. when discussion recent chapters of MHA, I’m trying now to wait for the official release before posting anything. I know I haven’t always been the best when using scans vs official releases, but I’m going to try and make this more a thing. Given some flack I’ve received in the past, as well as recent crack downs by shueisha. So you can send me asks like this, please I’m not discouraging it. but you’re just going to have to wait till after the official releases.)
With the preamble out of the way OH MY GOD! This flashback chapters are amazing! Like this has been the kind of stuff I’ve been waiting for in MHA after the metric crap ton of build up by Horikoshi. And its not disappointed.
First, I do likeEndeavor’s gradual decline into is asshole self from Shoto’s memory. It’s vocally recognized that Endeavor is breaking societal taboos with his Quirk Marriage. Not only his selfish wishes to have an ultimate child to surpass All Might, but Toya is basically one of the worst combinations of this selective breeding. Being that he has stronger fire than Endeavor, but he has resistance to cold temperature so he’s just burning his body.
Yet Endeavor still is more focused on surpassing All Might. And when he comes to the realization that Toya will never surpass All Might, he decides to make a his real ultimate child. Now the reason I like this is because this isn’t Endeavor just being like “I need to surpass All Might with the perfect child”, its also, “I need to create my ideal child which will surpass All Might and act as a deterrent to Toya wanting to be a hero.”
Now, I love this scene, not just because no matter how Endeavor tries to justify his actions, he is still ultimately breaking societal conventions just to selfishly surpass his rival. But it also shows, Endeavor is aware of Toya’s feelings. He KNOWS Toya won’t stop trying to be a hero. He’s not some ignorant to his son wanting to live up to his dream of the ultimate hero. But his plan to stop Toya is not altruistic. It’s still selfish. His plan is literally to make an actually superior child, just to get his son to give e up. Its probably the worst thing you can do.
And most recently in 302, when that doesn’t work and Toya still burns himself and tries to attack Shoto. Endeavor finally just decides to no longer deal with this. personally. He is leaving Toya to Rei and is just going to focus on Shoto. He’s pushing a problem onto someone else and NOW he’s just ignoring it.
And then he just doubles down worse from there. Actually becoming more of the abuser that Shoto and Natsuo remember. All because Rei couldn’t keep Toya in line. Even though Toya was his son too.
It’s been awhile since we have seen Endeavor as the antagonistic figure. And I know the story of Endeavor will always be a tough one because its ultimately one trying to redeem an abuser. And I like that in this flashback, we are really reminded of why Endeavor wants atonement, because what he did to his family was wrong. And now we’re actually seeing it. Hell, some of it is more uncomfortable because we now see, its not like Endeavor was so pure evil psychopath, he gradually slipped from some wrong-headed jerk who was breaking taboos who is aware he’s doing bad things but pushing forward to ignoring his problems he’s caused to finally lashing out at his family as if it’s not also his responsibility.
And we see a man who is regretful. But he still made mistakes. And I like that this hasn’t just been for the audience, this has been for Endeavor. Because he can no longer keep those skeletons in his closet nor is he in a position to throw himself a pity party. Again, we still have to wait a few chapters before we see like how this pays off. But Rei is reminding him that if he really wants to make things better and prove he’s a better person, then let’s start by getting his house in order.
Speaking of Rei, this has been a pretty interesting character study for her as well. We see Rei as pretty much a passive player both in the series up to this point being in a hospital, but also in this flashback. She agrees to be Enji’s wife and while she’ll speak up, she doesn’t stop Endeavor from having more kids. Nor does she stop him from really separating the kids. She also brings it up that like Endeavor, she didn’t really “see” what was really going on with Toya.
While Endeavor may have thought a deterrent of making him Toya give up would work, Rei try to just talk to Toya about looking beyond his father, but its not just wanting his father’s attention that is driving Toya mad. Its the fact that his birth was solely to make an ultimate Quirk users and if he’s not then his whole creation is pointless.
Because at he core, she is still complacent with this arrangement. From her family to the fact that when she can’t actually stand up to Enji, she then starts lashing out at the children who remind her of them. She has hurt her children too and its wrong. But unlike Endeavor who is really now just trying to come to grips with that, Rei has clearly stewed in that self loathing for a while. And now, she’s not being passive, she’s now taking a stand and being the one who needs to pull Endeavor out of his own self-pity.
Its very nice to see this character who, like Endeavor, has transformed over the course of this union.
Now what does this mean for their marriage? As this seems to be the root cause of here passivity. I’m not sure. But Hori has given me no reason to think he’ll do something crazy with it. So I’m going to wait and see.
Now onto the man himself, Toya. Man finding out about Dabi has been a trip. Because at first it seems like he just wants his dad’s attention. To be proud of him. But its more than just that. Toya has a fire in him that won’t go out.
Toya’s “fire” isn’t this drive to be number 1 hero and get the glory. Its literally the validation of his existence. Because he was made to surpass All Might. If Toya can’t do that, then he failed at his existence.
It really pulls back that Dabi doesn’t hate Endeavor because of abuse like Rei, Shoto and Natsuo. Dabi hates Endeavor because he was born solely to fulfill his mission, and when he was physically incapable of doing so, he replaced him with a child who could. It hurts to watch.
Because Dabi will never get over the fact of why he’s here in the first place, I think a lot of kids when they get older have that realization about why they’re here is because of their parents. And Toya can literally trace why his father made him. As he recalled with Snatch.
Just contemplating his family and why he’s here. He lost it.
We also get some cool details on Dabi’s powers. With his flames growing even stronger from red to blue, but also that the burns around his chest that we first saw in his video is intentionally so he could both hide the burns but also avoid hurting him.
There’s also the fact that his flames are tied to his emotions. Probably why whenever we see Dabi he’s mostly irate and disinterested. But when he finally had to get infront of Endeavor and the world, Dabi lets all his emotions come out. Letting him use flash fire and be wary more gleeful in his destruction. Yet we see that any times he cranks up his emotions, he always starts crying. Like he did with Snatch and Hawks. Which is such a subtle touch that I love.
There’s also his unique resentment towards the women in his family more than Natsuo. Now Endeavor we know he clearly hates, but when it came to Natsuo, he ignored him. But he knew Rei and Fuyumi the longest, and they did nothing for the longest time.
We also see the beginning of Dabi’s use of faux concern about society and using it as a way to turn people on Endeavor.
Dabi has stated he doesn’t care about the League of Villains. Even in his big speech about how its Endeavor’s fire that let him kill people, he knows that’s a lie too. He would talk about confiding in his beloved brother, but if it meant making his dad suffer, he would’ve killed him.
Dabi’s hate is for one man, and if he can use anything to make Endeavor’s existence a living hell, he’ll use it. And we see that his hate is justified, but he will wrap that hate in a way to get others to feel like him. Its very effective.
Its just nice to see a villain who gets a bunch of build up LIVE up to all his hype. Its not like a let down, its just opening more doors to explore.
And now we get to the Todoroki family. Where do we go from here? Well Dabi isn’t just an Endeavor problem or a Rei problem, its a family problem. They all share the burden and Dabi will be their goal.
And I like this because, for the most part, Shoto completed his arc in the Sports Festival of hating his dad, but then accepting this is his power and looking beyond Enji. And while that wasn’t the end as he still has to make his choice on wether to accept his dad as a changed man or not, that’s more part of Endeavor’s goal. Shoto has been sorta like Deku and Bakugo with a focus on being number 1.
But now he has real and true personal motivation that no one but this family can really address and I am excited. I’m glad that the prominent characters of this series like Shoto has something to do. I get that all the kids in UA will never truly get this treatment. They have focus, but they are still mainly supporting cast. But having a main character really be able to justify why they’re up in front is great. I’m eager to see what awaits the Todoroki family in the future.
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#my hero academia 302#my hero academia 301#mha 302#mha 301#bnha 301#bnha 302#my hero academia chapter 302#Todoroki family#shoto todoroki#todoroki shoto#endeavor#bnha endeavor#dabi#toya todoroki#dabi touya#rei todoroki#natsuo todoroki#fuyumi todoroki#all might#league of villains#touya todoroki#enji todoroki
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Only One Choice, Chapter 3
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
A week passes, and her interaction with Agent Mulder fades into the recesses of her memory. She files it away under “times a cute guy hit on me,” alongside overly friendly waiters and optimistic students.
She and Ethan’s anniversary is coming up next week and she’s been grappling with the best gift to get him; something practical or indulgent? He is a prolifically thoughtful gift-giver and she feels pressure on each special occasion to select the perfect thing to give him, though the pressure comes only from herself. She’s contemplating this as she finishes up an autopsy, replacing the organs in the chest cavity and suturing up the Y-incision.
“Dana,” the pathologist about to come on shift calls out to her, “someone is asking for you.”
“I’ll just be about ten minutes, Trudy. Who is it?” she returns, gently settling the young woman’s liver back into her body.
Trudy shrugs. “Tall guy in a suit, cute, dark hair.”
She feels a flutter in her belly and then immediately chastises herself.
“Tell him I’ll be right there, please.”
She apologizes internally to the decedent as she rushes through the final steps, not taking quite as much care as she typically does.
After scrubbing her hands and fixing her hair, she steps into the hallway to find Agent Mulder sitting on a bench. His back is against the wall, his long legs crossed casually as he studies the art hung opposite him. He looks so composed and confident it unnerves her.
“Agent Mulder, what can I do for you?” she asks, forcing confidence she does not feel into her own voice.
The smile that lights up his face when he turns to look at her makes her flush, and she can feel the heat in her cheeks. Being unable to hide her emotional response behind her fair complexion has always been something she resents.
“Scully, good to see you. I wanted to follow up on the Dugan case, you said you were interested in understanding the motivation behind your autopsy findings,” he says as he stands and walks towards her, his tall frame looming above her such that she has to look up at his face. He stands close enough that she can smell his aftershave and see the stubble coming in on his cheeks.
“Oh, yes, I was curious about that,” she replies, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Why does this man make her so nervous?
“If you’d like, you can meet with the lead behavioral analyst on the case. They can tell you how they drew parallels between the wound pattern you observed and the perpetrator profile,” he offers, a slight tilt to his head as his green eyes jump around her face as though he’s trying to commit it to memory.
“That would be great, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that,” she replies self-consciously, feeling as though she asked for something she shouldn’t have, even though she’d never requested this.
“Do you have time today?” he asks, lifting his wrist to glance at his watch. She knows it’s just past 4 pm.
“Um, yes, actually, I’m done with classes for the day and that was my last autopsy. I was just going to do paperwork for a bit, but I can defer it until tomorrow.”
A small smirk flashes on his mouth, but quickly disappears.
“Alright, why don’t you meet them at that cafe you mentioned in, say, thirty minutes?” he asks.
“Okay, that should work,” she replies, “what’s their name, so I can find them?” She should have just about enough time to change and get there by 4:30.
His eyebrows lift as though he just realized he forgot something, and he pauses before continuing.
“Uh, Fox. His name is Fox. I’ll describe you to him, he’ll find you.”
“Fox?” she asks dubiously, “is that a real name?”
He purses his lips. “Sadly, yes.”
“Alright, well, thank you, Agent Mulder. It was, um...it was good to see you again.” She extends her hand with her chin held high, trying to portray an air of professionalism and not one of a girl with a crush, which is how he makes her feel.
He takes her hand and smiles at her warmly, a little something coy behind his eyes.
“Likewise. I hope to see you again very soon,” he says confidently, and she feels her belly tumble yet again.
——————————————————————————
He stands in the hallway until Scully disappears into the staff locker room, then books it over to Cafe Adamo to get a quiet table in the corner. He’s not sure exactly what he’s after here; she has a boyfriend after all. He just hasn’t been able to get her out of his head all week. When the lead analyst on the Dugan case had a family emergency and needed to take leave, he jumped at the opportunity to take over the case, getting a little thrill from reading over her report and incorporating it into his profile. It felt as though they were creating something together.
He watches the clock, a pit in his belly as he wonders how she’ll react to learning that he tricked her into having coffee with him. He barely knows her, but gets the sense that she doesn’t take shit from anyone. That is, in fact, what draws him to her. Well, that and those plush pink lips. He hasn’t been this affected by anyone since he and Valerie split.
When the door swings open and she steps through in fitted jeans and a black T-shirt, he feels a wave of nausea. She’s even more beautiful in street clothes than she was in scrubs, her tiny waist curving up into a modest bustline. She scans the room and when her eyes fall on him, she quirks her head to the side and her eyebrows knit in confusion. His heart starts to pound and he stays glued to his seat, watching her traverse the room until she reaches him and gives him an expectant look.
He holds out his hand. “Fox Mulder,” he says with a guilty smile, and she lifts her chin before tucking it to her chest, taking his hand with a pensive expression.
“I see,” she says, her tone skeptical. It’s clear that she is unsure of his intentions.
“I am the lead behavioral analyst on this case, for the record. I am now, anyway,” he offers, and watches her doubt deepen. What the hell did he think was going to happen, catfishing an unavailable woman into a date? “Will you sit?” he asks hopefully, and she does, though he can tell by her posture that she is one wrong move away from fleeing the scene.
Someone comes by and takes their coffee order, and he sets his profile on the table, getting right to the reason he asked her here lest she think he’s completely full of shit.
“You noted that the victim was stabbed repeatedly in the exact same location, giving the appearance of one wound,” he explains, “we’ve seen something similar with the other victims, and at this time my theory is that the perp lost someone close to them in this manner, perhaps a family member or parent. I believe they’re re-creating the injury that killed their loved one, though because these crimes are so rage-fueled they feel compelled to injure the victim more extensively than just the one wound. The repeated stabbing in the same location provides an outlet for that rage while preserving the one-wound injury that is the cause of death.”
She reads over his profile with interest, nodding along as he speaks. “That’s very interesting,” she says, lifting her head to look at him, and he feels a swell of pride at her praise. “You had to trick me into getting coffee with you to tell me that?” she adds flatly, and now it’s him who is blushing.
She smiles victoriously at having made him uncomfortable, a bright, dazzling, toothy smile, and he’s overwhelmed by how attracted he is to her. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again and just shrugs.
Their coffee is delivered and he watches intently as she licks at the foam on her cappuccino. Her blue irises dart up to meet his and he startles at having been caught, picking up his own cup and taking a big gulp that burns the roof of his mouth.
“Your name sounds very familiar,” she begins, “why do I feel like I’ve heard it before?”
“Uh, I had a bit of a reputation at one time,” he says with a regretful tone. “Are you familiar with the X files?”
Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Spooky Mulder,” she says with realization, “that’s where I’ve heard your name.”
He grimaces. “Not my favorite nickname, but yes, guilty as charged.”
“But you’re in the BSU now? Not on the X files anymore? I’m surprised I’ve never seen you around Quantico,” she remarks, and he can see her relaxing a bit.
“No, the X files division was shut down a couple years ago. I was in the BSU before I reopened the X files, and transferred back after I was reassigned. I’m part of a small BSU team that works out of the Hoover building, so I’m not down here all that often these days.”
“Why was the X files division shut down?” she asks before licking more foam from the rim of her mug, and he shifts in his seat.
“Well, how much time do you have?” he asks with a shy smile, “it’s a long story.”
She returns his smile. “Not that much time. So you’re into aliens and all that paranormal stuff?”
“Well, let me ask you this, Scully,” he says, leaning in, “do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”
She gives him an incredulous look, but answers. “Logically, I’d have to say no.” He nods and sits back, but she continues. “Given the distances needed to travel from the far reaches of space, the energy requirements would exceed a spacecraft’s capabilities…”
“Conventional wisdom,” he interrupts, “I just happen to disagree with it.”
“On what basis?” she asks, curious but not derisive, which is what he’s used to getting in response to his theories.
“If you’d seen what I’ve seen, Scully, you’d understand why I believe in such extreme possibilities.”
She tilts her head expectantly. “Do tell, Agent Mulder. Or should I call you Fox?” she asks with a haughty tone, though a playful one, and he blushes again.
“Please, it’s just Mulder. I even make my parents call me Mulder. I’m sure you can understand why with a first name like Fox.” She makes a face that says she can’t argue with that, and he continues. “I’ve seen things, Scully, things that defy all logic and can’t be explained by the laws of science. Repeat abductees, men who can stretch their bodies and travel through the slats of a heater vent, prehistoric monsters dwelling in the woods.” She’s giving him a doubtful expression, one eyebrow cocked suspiciously. He laughs a little. “I know I sound crazy, but it’s just crazy enough to be true. When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?”
She screws up her mouth, politely suppressing the “you are certifiably nuts” expression that wants to present on her face. He’s used to it, and takes no offense.
“What I find fantastic, Mulder, is any notion that there are answers beyond the realm of science. The answers are there, you just have to know where to look,” she says in a tone that is both playful and sincere.
He smiles at her, sure he looks like a total dope. This conversation is more intellectually stimulating than any he’s had in months.
“You should come see the X files sometime, Scully. Tell me how you make scientific sense of what you see.”
“You have them?” she asks with wide eyes.
He shrugs guiltily. “I may have acquired a few on my way out.”
Her head dips lower in disbelief. “Is that allowed?”
“No, definitely not,” he answers with a chuckle. If only she knew the extent of his flaunting of bureau policy during his time on the X files.
She smiles at him in a way that he can only interpret as openly flirtatious, an acknowledgement that she finds his insubordinate behavior a little bit enticing. As suddenly as the smile appears, it vanishes and she checks her watch.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she says as she stands.
“Right, you’ve got somebody waiting for you,” he says with a regretful tone.
She looks at him guiltily, then thanks him for the coffee and leaves. He sits there for a long while, staring at the door she exited through.
“Shit,” he says aloud to no one.
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vertigo - chapter 1
pairing: obi-wan kenobi/female reader
summary: A year into the Clone Wars, the Jedi Council, in need of inside information regarding separatist forces, send General Obi-Wan Kenobi on the hunt for a possible, and very reluctant informant.
In the glittering planet of Coruscant, a successful nightclub owner’s new life is threatened with the past.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: none for this chapter!
link for ao3 here
Obi-Wan Kenobi wondered if he would ever have another moment to himself. With the way the Council requested his presence immediately after his latest landing, he was leaning towards ‘no’. He barely had the chance to unpack and was already walking towards the Council Chamber where he was required. Only Yoda and Mace Windu were on Coruscant, the other Masters were off God knows where.
A year into the war and the fighting was in full swing. Mission after mission had Obi-Wan completely, and utterly exhausted. He knew he wasn’t the only one that felt burnt out. The intense pressure of the war was put on every Jedi in the Temple. Their sacred peace keeping ways had been lost, and everyone knew it.
The short walk from his rooms gave Obi-Wan enough time to create a basic mission report in his head. There wasn’t much else he could do. Not with the time they gave him. He would have to write the formal report later.
“Obi-Wan, good, you’re here,” Mace Windu announced as Obi-Wan walked into the Chamber. “We’re glad to hear the negotiations on Breosnas went well. We’ll have to discuss that at a later date. There’s a new assignment for you and it must be done right away. We believe there’s someone who has information on separatist plans.”
Obi-Wan wished they would have asked for the report instead. “Of course, Master,” he said anyway.
“Is there a problem?” Nothing slipped past Windu. Maybe Obi-Wan needed to mediate more often.
He tried not to look defeated. “No, I just didn't expect to leave so soon. I was hoping to spend some time here, on Coruscant.”
Instead of a reply, a holographic image appeared in front of him. “Master, that’s-”
“Yes, it’s her. You see why this assignment is so sensitive, Obi-Wan. The new Knights are too young to remember what happened, and you already know how she feels about the rest of the Council. She’ll be more inclined to help you than any of us,” Windu said, “and, you're in luck. She still lives on this planet.”
“No offence Master, but it’s highly unlikely that she’ll give up information, even if it is me,” Obi-Wan tried. “If she’s still upset and we provoke her, it could push her to help the separatists instead.”
“That may be the case indeed, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince her. Do what is necessary.” Windu looked at Obi-Wan, and he knew the mission was not up for debate.
The rest of the Council was in agreement. A possible informant was better than no informant.
“Where do I find her?”
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
As soon as the sun had set, Obi-Wan was flying through the air traffic, the wind whipping through his hair. Miles away from the Jedi Temple was the underground club Vertigo. In recent years, it had become a popular destination amongst the rich and powerful. Separatists and Republic senators alike were frequent visitors. Vertigo was a lively club that kept anyone looking for a good time engaged. Although full of politicians and celebrities each night, there was a certain anonymity they found within the club.
Before Obi-Wan had even reached the club doors, he knew he was out of his element; his senses were overloaded. The shimmering atmosphere the club gave off was far too modern for his taste. Red and blue ambient lighting created a hazy purple sheen over the bar. Crescent-shaped booths in every corner were filled, and exotic plants he couldn’t name if he tried hung from the ceiling. Loud, thumping music had the dance floor packed.
Obi-Wan eyed the room, and searched for an employee. Waving down a bartender, he spoke quickly. “I was wondering if you could direct me to your boss’ office. She and I are old friends, I’m looking to catch up.”
The bartender, Eliamer, her name tag read, eyed him for a second longer than he liked. He thought he might have to use a mind trick before she mumbled a short “follow me” and they were pushing their way to a private elevator. A few awkward minutes later they were in front of an office door.
And that was where Obi-Wan found you.
“There’s a man here to see you, he claims he’s an old friend,” one of your bartenders says, the door to your office swinging open.
You raise an eyebrow.
She pauses. “He’s a Jedi.”
“Thank you, Eliamer. Let him in.” Quickly unlocking your desk drawer, you pull out your blaster, holding it just below the supposed Jedi’s sight. You wonder which Jedi has come for you, after all this time.
You left the Jedi Order eight years ago when you were sixteen. It wasn’t an easy choice, but a necessary one. As a youngling, you were the definition of perfect. Obedient, patient, respectful. Every Jedi wanted you as their Padawan, knowing they’d be lucky to be your Master.
At first, you loved being a Padawan. Becoming a Jedi Knight was all you had ever wanted; ever known. You were dedicated to your training and meditating, finding that it came to you naturally. Your Master was often relentless, and that only pushed you further.
Two years into your training and a simple mission to Alderaan was the beginning of the emotions that would later betray you. You and your Master were sent to guard an at risk Senator. Alone at night, you roamed the palace in hopes of making yourself tired. It was then in a shadowy alcove you witnessed real affection for the first time. Lovers joined, pushing against the wall in passion. All you could do was stare at the couple in awe. You had never seen anything like it; the Jedi celebrated their lack of intimacy.
That night back in your room, all you could think about was the look of sheer pleasure on their faces. The way they looked at each other so tenderly, like nothing else in the galaxy mattered. At that moment, laying in the luxurious royal bed, you knew you could never have that. You would never know what a bond would feel like. It was forbidden, and that was the end.
However, your envy didn’t stop when you left Alderaan. It burned inside of you each day on Coruscant, during every practice and every meditation. The desire to feel a fraction of what they did was overpowering.
You began acting out, hoping that your Master would fix your forbidden emotions. Yet he never did, he just continued to look at you in disappointment. The once perfect youngling was a disobedient teenager with no control.
You believed you were the only one with such emotions, until a frustrated confession with another rebellious Padawan proved otherwise. Hours later, you were pressed into your small mattress, finally receiving the pleasure you had desired for so long.
Months passed, and the secret nights you spent with the other Padawan were frequent. Yet the longing never stopped. It seemed that your desire only grew. You took foolish risks to be together, which could have only resulted in one outcome. The final night you spent together was interrupted by both of your Masters.
By the next day, your lover was expelled from the Order, only to be sent back to his home planet in a system unbeknownst to you. He had far too many infractions, and that was the last straw.
You should have been expelled, and you knew it. Your Master’s pleading was the only thing keeping you in the Order. The possibility that you could once again be the perfect Jedi was a risk the Council took.
Although you had been miraculously saved with only a harsh lecture from the Council, you knew what you had to do. You gathered the few belongings you had, and left the temple to start a new life.
You’ll never admit how hard it was finding work on the streets of Coruscant. Some days you wondered if you even made the right decision. Deep down you knew you would never have passed the trials. Living a lie was something you were not willing to do, and the Council would see it. You hated the other Jedi for what you couldn't do. Giving up your future to the unknown was terrifying. You wanted it both ways; to be a Jedi Knight and have attachments. One wasn't possible with the other, which only made you resent the Jedi more.
Eventually, you found a crowd, leading to the right connections to build a good life for yourself. It took a while, but after your club Vertigo was built, you began to understand the appeal of arrogance. Vertigo was one of the most popular nightclubs on Coruscant.
“I must say, I am surprised to see you,” Obi-Wan says, adding your name as an afterthought. He looks different than you remember. Older, tired maybe. The war has shown no mercy.
“I heard rumours the Council had made you a General. Jedi Master and General now, Kenobi?” You smirk. You and Obi-Wan only knew each other from pleasantries. He was newly ordained as a Knight while you were just beginning as a Padawan. You decide to get right to the point. “Enlighten me General, what are you doing at my club?”
“The Council asks for your assistance. We’re in need of information on the separatists. Vertigo is well known amongst separatist sympathizers. Your intel could prepare us for future attacks,” Obi-Wan explains, his crisp Coruscanti accent almost identical to your own.
You debate on putting your blaster away, not sensing any immediate danger from him, yet you know this could turn into a fight very quickly if you’re not careful. “If you came all this way just to ask me for information, then I’m sorry to inform you that I’m unable to help. Vertigo is a nightclub. Who comes here is none of my business, nor am I willing to spy on my patrons for the sake of the Council.”
Obi-Wan sighs, “Yes, I figured you would say that.”
A look of annoyance flashes across your face before you can mask it. “The Council knew I wouldn’t help, and they still sent you anyway? How pathetic.”
“With all due respect, you chose to leave the Order. Blaming the Council isn’t going to help you now.” He sounds defensive, and you can’t help but wonder if you hit a nerve.
Nonetheless, the statement annoys you. You broke most of your Jedi habits after leaving the Order, though it's easy for you to forget you can show your anger. Still, you pause for a moment to collect yourself. “The Council ruined my life once. I’m not going to let them ruin it again.”
“This is a matter of life or death, and we need your help! I can’t force you to give us information, but a part of you must know that this is beyond just the Council. It’s for the Republic,” Obi-Wan says.
“Do you really think I care about the Republic?” You ask.
“You should,” he replies, “what do you think will happen to you if the separatists lose? I believe a cell at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center will be waiting for you.”
“You don’t have the authority to do that. Besides, neutrality isn’t a crime.” The grip on your blaster tightens.
“Maybe not, but I’m sure when the senate hears we had a possible informant that refused to help, they’ll want to know everything about you and Vertigo,” he says.
“I thought you said you couldn’t force me to be an informant?”
“You’re right, I can’t force you. The risk is yours to take,” he says.
You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “Alright, General. Let’s say I agree. Am I getting something in return, or is this charity work?”
Obi-Wan refrains from rolling his eyes. “We have nothing to offer you but the reassurance that your information will help us win the war.”
“Let’s go for a drink,” you decide. Obi-Wan begins to protest as you slip your blaster back into your desk, then guide him out of the office doorway, and down to the crowded room.
Back at the bar, you order two cocktails. “You see that guy in the white suit? He’s a warmonger. He gives up any Republic plans he hears to the separatists. For a price of course. That woman, over there, the one in the red dress. She’s a spy. I heard she got close with one of the Republic captains. Oh, and him, the guy standing next to her! He’s an assassin from the Outer Rim. Technically he works for either side, but the separatists pay more.” You take a sip of your violet coloured drink. “Now, I will continue to tell you about every separatist here on two conditions.”
Obi-Wan stares at you. “Go on.”
“I want you to let me into the Council Chamber and the archives,” you say. There wasn’t much you could bargain for, nor that you wanted. You didn’t need money, and this would be far better than anything the Republic could offer.
“You can’t just walk into the Council Chamber!” Obi-Wan looks at you in disbelief.
“I wouldn’t be walking in, you’d be letting me in,” you remind him.
“It’s not happening.” His answer is firm.
You raise your eyebrow at him. “Do you want information or not, General?”
“I can ready a cell for you anytime.”
“Fine.” You give in. “Just the archives.”
Obi-Wan looks at you so earnestly, your palms start to sweat. You feel as though he’s looking directly into your soul, leaving you raw. You know he can force his way past your mental barriers, even if you put up a fight. You definitely won’t get past him, even if you try. Years of practice and strict meditation means he can hold out much longer than you.
“The archives… it’s about him, isn’t it?” he says. It’s not really a question, rather a statement.
Of course Obi-Wan would clue in. You wasted months trying to track down the Padawan boy you loved, with no luck. The archives have records of each Jedi that ever lived in the Temple. If you could just look at them, you’d know which planet he was from, and maybe where to find him.
“The archives will have his information,” you answer.
“If you wanted information, that’s all you had to say. I would be happy to look through the archives for you,” Obi-Wan offers.
You almost laugh at his proposal. “This isn’t negotiable, General. I’ll take my chances when the war is over. I won’t go back on my offer to help, if that’s what you’re worried about. You have my word.”
Obi-Wan looks conflicted, until he knocks back the entirety of his drink. With a wave of his hand, he tells you to continue. You’re not surprised he gives in. The value of what you know is worth the price of letting an ex-Jedi into the archives.
You don’t even know where to begin. Hundreds of patrons pass through Vertigo every day. Looking around the club, you recognize several associated members. The three humans you pointed out to Obi-Wan are regulars. The aforementioned man in the white suit, Kenth, drinks with his outfit of criminals most weekends. You try to avoid the oligarchs, they're far too arrogant for conversation.
The spy, Kandri, is a mystery to you. She’s cunning and beautiful; it's unsurprising she managed to work her way into the depths of the Republic army. Of course, none of that could be true. Espionage is a facade after all.
Troleveen, the assassin, often does business in Vertigo. Rich trade members are always looking to eliminate their problems. Millions of credits have been paid to Troleveen within the club walls. Usually you would frown upon that much money being traded in Vertigo, but it's nice to have an assassin on your side.
For as much as you have heard, most attack plans are kept secret. They rarely pass through Vertigo. If Obi-Wan wants direct knowledge from the Separatist Council, you’ll have to make some inquiries. Count Dooku has never come to Vertigo, and you wouldn't want to know even if he did.
You start by telling him what you already know. Months of secrets and hushed whispers turn into hours of conversation. Memories and credits passed under the table between senators, deadly glances that can only mean one thing, Obi-Wan knows it all. To the rest of the club, it looks like you and a Jedi are having a lengthy, casual conversation. It is well known that you are neutral in the war. No alliances means no enemies.
Still, giving up secrets is not something you want to be caught doing. All you needed was a rumour to spread that you were leaning in one direction, and a bounty would be placed on your head before you could even blink. It makes you wonder if you’re doing the right thing. Being sent to prison is obviously not what you want. You’ve heard about the terrible conditions at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. Even if you were lucky enough to escape Coruscant, you would be leaving everything you worked for in the past eight years behind. Before Vertigo, your only home had been at the Jedi Temple. Having never known your parents or your home planet, Coruscant was all you had. Thinking about it brought emotions to the surface you’d rather not deal with.
The conversation has mostly come to an end, there isn’t much else to be said. “I believe that’s all I can give you tonight, General,” you say to Obi-Wan. “You’ll have to give me more time to make my inquiries.” With the information you revealed to him, his grasp on the politics the Jedi don’t often hear should be enough for the Council to start with.
“You’ve been quite helpful,” he replies, a certain twinkle in his eye. “You make a promising spy.”
“Hardly. We’ll have to meet at my apartment from now on. A Jedi showing up here every week isn’t good for business.” You can’t help but smile at him. He looks soft, far more relaxed than when he first entered your office hours ago. It could be the alcohol, too. Vertigo only serves the best, possibly illegal liquors.
Business, you remind yourself. That’s all this is. You didn’t necessarily like Obi-Wan, particularly because of his perfect Council obeying behaviour, yet talking to a Jedi again was somehow refreshing. You love your life, it's something you never thought you could have, though there are moments when you wish you could talk to someone who relates to your previous experiences. Your staff knew why you left the Order, but they could never quite grasp it. Understanding the rigid lifestyle inside the Temple walls was something only a Jedi could comprehend. For an ex-Jedi who left due to attachments, you sure are bad at forming them.
“Alright,” Obi-Wan says, “I have to return to the Temple now, I’ll be ready in a week or so. I trust you’ll set a meeting by then?”
You nod in response to his question. “Tell the Council I say hello.”
“Just hello?”
“It’s bad taste to have a messenger for more than ‘hello’ in my case,” you answer.
He shakes his head at you, his stern look more for show than anything. You watch him slip through the crowd and up the stairs, back outside to the streets. The music has been turned up since he arrived, it’s later in the night, and it drills into your head. The bar is mostly empty, everyone has migrated to the dance floor or into the VIP lounge.
Rather than hanging around the bar, you toss back your fourth drink that night and head towards the elevator to your office. You’re tipsy, but not enough to find a stranger to hook up with. The thought itself makes you feel sick. You don’t dwell on that thought, instead you find yourself suddenly exhausted, practically falling asleep right at your desk. With a flick of your wrist the ceiling lights are turned off. You leave your datapad online as always, the blue glow coating the room. The cool glass of your desk calms your heated cheek as soon as you rest against it. Your eyes shut, the drowsiness taking over.
#obi wan kenobi#obi wan x reader#obi wan x you#obi wan kenobi fanfic#obi wan kenobi/reader#obi wan kenobi/you#star wars
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chapter two.
⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader
⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst
⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity
⇥ word count: 2.3k
⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
Chapter Two
Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am
When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.
Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.
We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.
Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.
Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.
Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.
The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”
I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”
“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.
As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”
Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”
Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.
“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”
Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.
“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.
The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…
No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.
He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.
I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.
As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.
I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.
Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...
The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.
His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.
Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”
He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Our differing replies sound at the same time.
“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”
Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.
Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”
I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”
My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”
“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”
I stare at him.
He smirks back.
I stare.
His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”
I stare.
“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”
I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”
His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.
“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”
I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.
Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”
“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.
“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”
Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”
I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”
He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”
The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”
I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.
Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”
The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”
Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”
I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”
Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.
I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.
The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.
“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”
Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”
I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.
“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”
I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”
He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”
I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”
“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.
“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”
“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”
“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”
a/n: i love namjoon. that is all.
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#bts#bangtan#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#bts smut#bts au#bts imagine#ot7 x reader#bts ot7#namjoon#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok#jimin#taehyung#jungkook#poly bts#college!bts#college!bangtan#frat!bts#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#namjoon x reader#jungkook x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#seokjin x reader
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Forgiving Your Parents
I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you.
My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.
Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.
It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created…
Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.
Moving on.
I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.
I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” .
Think about it...
Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.
So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.
I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.
That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).
THIS.
This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).
And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.
I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!).
Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.
It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).
So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…
There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.
My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right?
Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?
Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.
Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.
Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.
I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚).
But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.
Don’t get it confused, my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.
Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.
My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.
The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them.
My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything.
However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess.
My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart.
Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand.
He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness.
I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.
I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love?
I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.
We all got a story to tell.
Love. Peace. Manifest.
#black#love#hate#generationalcurses#generations#hurt#healing#blackfamilies#blog#monetsway#alcoholism#mother#father
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Chapter 50
Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42 | Chapter 43 | Chapter 44 | Chapter 45 | Chapter 46 | Chapter 47 | Chapter 48 & Chapter 49
Nie HuaiSang wrinkles his nose at the smell.
It has been some years since he has descended into the dungeons, but the damp air seems heavier now than it had been in the past. They are not meant to be enjoyable, the dungeons, and more pleasant accommodations would defeat the purpose of using them as a form of punishment. Still, HuaiSang does not understand why nothing can be done about the smell. The fan does precious little aside from moving the sticky air across his cheeks, and he folds it irritably, tapping Song Lan on the shoulder.
“Are you certain that torture will yield no results? I assure you, Madam Yu has made quite an art of it over the years. I think she takes pride in obtaining confessions without spilling a drop of blood.”
Song Lan shakes his head. They have spoken of this before, but HuaiSang knows that his voice will carry to the nearest cells. Perhaps Xue ChengMei cannot be tortured into a confession, but there is no harm in issuing a threat.
The boy is on his feet long before they reach him, forehead pressed against the bars, a mischievous grin etched across surprisingly attractive features. HuaiSang understands that a monster’s appearance will rarely reflect their inner monstrosity, but even he has to admit that this is slightly ridiculous. The boy looks fifteen years old at most, short in stature, small in build. The only vaguely threatening features of his appearance are the white, sharp teeth, but even those are made more menacing by their surroundings. Had the boy grinned at him in a well-lit courtyard instead of doing so in-between the bars of a cell, HuaiSang would have thought him cute, rather than dangerous.
“The Royal Companion,” the boy exclaims, “what an unexpected pleasure! I am a great admirer of yours.”
“Is that so?” HuaiSang says, “Do not spare the detail. I am always willing to be admired.”
Xue ChengMei’s eyes glitter in the darkness, his grin unwavering, “I should have known you would make no pretense of false humility.”
“Not precisely the way I prefer to be flattered.”
“It is your deeds I admire,” the boy says, “Tell me, does Sect Leader Su still believe that his son perished from a snake bite? Do you not think it extremely unfortunate? To be bitten by a yellow tail in MoLing?”
The boy taps his lips with his finger, issuing an exaggerated wink, “What a studious, sturdy snake that must have been, to have traveled all the way from QingHe just for a taste of the Young Master Su.”
HuaiSang mirrors the boy’s movement, tapping his lips with the fan.
Interesting. And potentially problematic.
“Your performance was not nearly as impressive,” HuaiSang smiles, “Such a common poison, with such an easily obtainable antidote. Surely, you did not expect that plan to work.”
“Ahh,” the boy sighs, pressing his cheek against the iron bar, “not all of us can be masters of the art I suppose. But the resulting chaos was quite entertaining.”
“Tell me about the Emperor’s potential,” HuaiSang says, “Tell me about achieving greatness.”
“Oh, but I have a much more interesting story to tell.”
“I am bored now,” HuaiSang turns to Song Lan, “let us go back.”
“Your father,” Xue ChengMei says quickly, “was no older than myself when the Empress took the throne. Such a young age, to be handed such great responsibility. Are you sure that you do not care to hear the story?”
HuaiSang’s fingers do not clench around his fan. He is calm as still water.
“You will like it,” the boy goes on, excitedly pressing himself against the bars, “it is a story no one else knows, but I am willing to share it with you.”
“Most of his words are deranged nonsense,” Song Lan says decisively, “there is no need to humor him.”
“Might as well,” HuaiSang says, glad to hear himself sound unaffected, “He seems anxious to tell it.”
“I am,” Xue ChengMei exclaims, “It is a fascinating tale. Many, many years ago, there was a mad Emperor who had a gift for demonic cultivation. But trying to control resentful energy comes with a cost. In order to continue using this infinite resource without harming himself in the process, he decided to store this energy into an object. The object would be capable of concentrating and directing the energy, but the process of creating such a thing came with a cost as well. He committed endless atrocities, slaughtered thousands of people, burned towns, rivers ran red with blood, so on and so forth,” he waves his hand impatiently, “You know that part of the story I am sure. Temples and cities obliterated, Sects decimated, advisors strung up by their toes, blah-blah.”
The impatient wave of his hand is such a perfect mirror image of Wei Ying’s own frequently used gesture, that HuaiSang is both alarmed and nauseated to see it.
“This part is known to all; the Emperor’s little niece, his favorite creature in the world, decides that the Emperor must be replaced, and murders her own uncle in cold blood. This is a story told and retold. Every child can recite the details. The Emperor’s experiments had failed, the Emperor was killed, the Empress took the throne, years of peace followed. But,” the boy presses his forehead to the iron bar, “this story is wrong.”
“Is it?” HuaiSang says, more and more convinced that this creature is dangerously unstable, “How so?”
“The Emperor did not fail in his experiments,” Xue ChengMei whispers conspiratorially, “He had succeeded. He had managed to create an object which can store infinite amounts of resentful energy, an object which can be used by any of his descendants. Any descendants, that is, who posses a particular affinity for demonic cultivation.”
HuaiSang feels his stomach turn, “The sword.”
“The sword,” the boy confirms, “Now, this is the interesting part of the story. The Empress, having grown up at court, did not have many trustworthy friends. But she did have three close confidants, two sworn brothers and a sister, peers she explicitly trusted. One of them, your father, was entrusted the sword. He was to place the sword in the Nie family's Ancestral Hall, where no descendent of YanLing DaoRen could lay their hands on it again. Can you guess what happened next?”
HuaiSang no longer cares that the boy can see his tight grip on the fan.
“Enlighten me,” he says coldly.
“Your father did not follow the Empress’ order,” Xue ChengMei grins brightly, “and who can blame him, truly? A young girl, not a full day in possession of the throne yet, asking him to hide such an object? If she were to lose her seat within a year, who would stand in the Nie Sect’s defense? Who would believe that the Nie Sect had obtained such an object for the sake of protecting the throne, instead of personal gain? You may think yourself a rare creature, Young Master Nie,” the boy winks again, “but I think you will find that the Nie Sect Leaders have always been pragmatists at heart.”
HuaiSang ignores the jab, his mind a whirlwind, “What did he do with the sword?”
The boy offers an exaggerated shrug, “Pawned it, sold it, given it away. What difference does it make?”
He is lying; HuaiSang knows this. He had made no effort to make it sound like the truth.
“How did you get it?”
“A friend gave to me,” Xue ChengMei says, blinking innocently through the bars.
“A friend who is still in the Immortal Mountain City?”
“Maybe,” the boy says, “Maybe not. Maybe he is no longer a friend. One cannot always trust those they call friends,” his grin is a sharp, sickly-sweet thing, “I believe this is a lesson the Emperor has yet to learn.”
HuaiSang wants nothing more than to take a hot, fragrant bath, and forget that he had ever spoken to this creature.
“You wanted the Emperor to become another YanLing DaoRen. To what purpose?”
“Wei WuXian would never be another YanLing DaoRen,” Xue ChengMei scoffs, “He would be so much more. A perfect vessel of destruction. A divine entity. Chaos personified.”
Well.
That answers that question.
HuaiSang taps his fan against his leg, thinking.
“Your attempts to eliminate the Lan Sect. You did not want the presence of those who can cleanse the Emperor of the resentful energy. But the Lan Sect is still here. The Emperor will recover. Your plan has failed.”
Xue ChengMei does not seem upset by the revelation, “Plans fail on occasion. There is always tomorrow.”
“You must have a great deal of confidence in your friend, who is maybe no longer a friend, if you intend to live long enough to see tomorrow.”
The boy only smiles in response.
It is an empty threat.
HuaiSang hates making empty threats.
A Jin Sect disciple cannot meet an accidental death in the Immortal Mountain City dungeons; not unless HuaiSang means to cause a diplomatic disaster. The situation at court is still too tense, too fragile for such heavy-handed solutions.
HuaiSang also cannot reveal the reasons for Xue ChengMei’s imprisonment. Such an accusation would result in a swift death, with no opportunity to draw out the accomplices he must have in the Immortal Mountain City.
No, the boy is infinitely more useful alive, although it sets HuaiSang’s teeth on edge to have this creature anywhere near Wei Ying.
There are many more questions he could ask, but the smell is unbearable, and for the time being, he has the majority of the answers he needs. The boy’s revelations may have been sparse and unpleasant, but HuaiSang has never needed all the pieces of a tangram to discern its shape.
Only when he is climbing the stone steps, does one particular sentence come back to him with full force, and he finds himself shaking his head in disbelief.
Chaos personified. As if Wei Ying had ever needed a demonic sword to be worthy of such a title.
#the untamed#cql#mdzs#ficlet#m#wwx emperor au#okay so i mixed up the order last time#this is xue yang's creepy story time#wangji's pov is next#ily chickens
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Woah boy here we go ok. I need to tell you about my feelings for Bound. Which I have been meaning to do for literal weeks, but I read it so quickly the first time I wanted to give myself a slower second read through in the hopes that it would help me form some manner of coherent thoughts to offer you about why it is so brilliant.
I regret however that that strategy does not seem to have worked. I started a little notes doc with thoughts for each chapter and it began with full sentences but then as I went on and got more pulled into just reading the story the sentences turned into mere collections of words and then single word exclamations. The last note I have is jaaaaamiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!! And after that I gave up the pretense of taking notes at all and just let myself devour.
I think it is perfect?? Perhaps it is a perfect piece of writing???
From the outset, the very beginning of the prologue it is so visceral. Your descriptions of feelings are so physical, that the whole time one of them is in pain, I also feel that I am in pain. And so I feel like I have spent quite a lot of the story in pain, but the phenomenon of that makes me feel that I am so closely connected to both Ian and Mickey and I love it. And likewise when they are feeling joy or desire or relief. God the relief! It starts in that first reunion they have at the Kash and Grab after the gun incident, every second of that is filled with this wonderful release of physical tension, and then it simply escalates from there. I can't begin to describe how effectively you manage to convey the experience of having an emotion as part of your physical body, and how that is heightened by the soul bond aspect of the whole thing. Incredible.
What else? The world building! Heavens. I have read not that many soulmate AUs, but in terms of creating and explaining the rules of this adjacent universe where soulmates exist and endowing it with history and prejudice and letting that all just bleed into and across the story, you have eclipsed every single one. I totally buy into this parallel history and the nuances of opinions and variety of bond experiences and antiquated terms for gay bonds, it's all a very rich tapestry and I think you've done an excellent job of weaving it.
I am so here for a story that follows the canon without exactly recreating it. There are so many moments where you can pick out specifics from the show that are reflected or echoed, but are in a different context or setting, and yet manage to create that same feeling. And it's great because it's like a little easter egg, a little hit of recognition, but also is original in its form and serves its own purpose within your story. It connects us to Shameless without binding us into it and it is very deft and I enjoy it immensely.
We also have to talk about characterisation. Which. I actually don't know if I can talk about at all eloquently but you have to know that I am enamored with it. Ian and Mickey, but equally MANDY my beloved, who is sharp and brutal but also caring and so willing to help. I really like Ryan, I feel like you totally have that guy's voice, even though we knew him for only a few short moments, and I like that you made him not at all a predator. These kids need some adult advice once in a while! Which leads me onto Veronica. Best Aunty I love her, she is perfect.
But mostly I am just in awe of how you have written these versions of Ian and Mickey who feel so true to who I know them to be. I appreciate so much this Mickey who is accepting of his feelings for and connection to Ian from so early on, but that you haven't transformed him into someone who is really very soft in expressing those things. He is still motivated by fear and that fear makes him hard-edged, even when his insides are goo. And I love your Ian, who is sunshine itself, but also so much more alone than he ever is in the early seasons of the show because he isn't able to be out even to Lip really. His relationship with Monica is so heartbreaking and his descent into his loneliness and into resentment and feeling like Mickey doesn't care, all of it feels like something I could have been watching on the show.
That thing that Shameless does where they give you a little moment of pure wonder, and then follow it up by socking you in the mouth, it's that. You've captured that.
I swear there is so much more I could say but I feel that would be maybe concerning and you might take out a restraining order. But honestly I have been thinking about how to write this more succinctly for days and I couldn't come up with a way that could accurately convey how excellent I think this fic is in less words than I have used.
In short though, I love your writing and this work specifically and am very invested in reading the next chapter and all of the chapters after that.
🖤 Howl x
Hello! I'm slow! I'm sorry about that!
I'm also blown away. This whole thing is amazing and makes me grin like an unhinged person. But I sometimes am like "should I reply privately or is that rude?" -- I think I landed on that it's rude (so apologies to people I've done that to) and I apologize for my neuroses.
So first of all: super glad you like Bound. Super glad you have feelings about it! Totally love that you tried to make notes -- it's truly amazing that you'd make that kind of effort over it. Much love. 💕
Bound started life as a one-shot so sometimes I’m momentarily surprised when people talk about how the story starts in season one. I’m glad you enjoy the relief because I feel like it’s the emotion I write with them the most and a lot of times I’m like “I hope this doesn’t feel repetitive…” (though. Not a problem in recent chapters I guess). But. A bond under threat has a euphoric quality when they get to be together.
Also, because it was a one shot I didn’t expect to have to do much world-building, but that’s maybe one of the things I have the most fun with. Like tonight I was doing the dishes and starting wondering about how, exactly, things work when you bond with a psychopath. These are the things that haunt me.
I like the idea of the socio-economic impact of soulmates, so I very much want the other characters to continue their canon journeys. It’s maybe a little pessimistic but I see enough situations where we decide something that occurs naturally is wrong and must be fixed for me to think that people would accept the actual rules that seem to exist around soulmates without wanting to shape them into something else.
So happy you like the characterization! I’d never written Mandy before the one-shot but I immediately loved her. And I love wiring so many of the characters. Iggy. Fiona. DEFINITELY V. So glad you enjoy Mickey and Ian, too. I don’t think absolute security in a relationship is entirely possible for Mickey — but also, even knowing that he’s bound and that Ian loves him, it can still be really uncomfortable for him to be open about everything that means to him. I also, since I will probably never write a 3x12-4x07 fill-in fic I really wanted to get into Ian and Monica. That relationship is so interesting to me.
I don’t know who these people are who look askance at people taking the time to tell them they really like their work ARE, but I assure you I am not among their number. Truly so grateful for this. Thank you for your time, your attention and your really kind and thoughtful words. It truly means so much to me.
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The interesting thing about Southern raiders is that Zuko shows that he still cares and vulnerability for Azula when he says, "Shes not going to make it". But then he says "of course she does" when she saves herself, as though why am I worrying about Azula? She's never actually in trouble. It makes me wonder if there were times when Azula manipulated Zuko's care for her when they were children, by like purposely appearing more vulnerable then turning it back around at him to call him weak.
But if Azula actually didn't manage to save herself, I think it would be the first time in his life that Zuko actually sees Azula in trouble. He would see himself in her. And judging by his worry for her beforehand, I wonder if this would be an extremely traumatic event for him then.
It's interesting too because the last time that Zuko saw Azula in trouble was in crossroads of destiny when he sees Katara beating her. He then goes out of his way to help Azula and take her place in fighting Katara. It seems to show that when they aren't antagonistic, or when Azula isn't manipulating him, he does seem to care a lot for her.
I definitely wonder as well whether there have been times where Azula has been ‘in trouble’, she’s appeared vulnerable, and that has been genuine, and she’s showed him it (instead of hiding it) in order to seek out a response from her brother, but as soon as he responds compassionately she puts the mask back on and goes ‘ha ha, pathetic’. Like, Azula isn’t perfect despite her formidable reputation, she slips up, she has feelings about that, I could definitely envision scenarios where Zuko sees more than he should but after a certain age she builds a defence mechanism of building distance - she can’t be weak, of course, any weakness is a ploy, obviously (and we can see where ‘Azula always lies’ might come from if this is a pattern).
Anyway. That’s an aside. I think you’re right that what allows Zuko to create distance is that he always sees Azula as perfect, she’s lucky, she’s the favoured one, she’s gone x y or z on her side, even if that’s not actually accurate, even if Azula actually works damn hard as well, that’s how Zuko interprets it, because it allows him to create a safe distance and not instinctively trust/reach out to her. Like you say, Azula actually failing would mean that Zuko sees that ‘she’s perfect’ is just a facade that he’s bought into, as you say, he ‘sees himself’ in her at that moment, and I think then all the walls would come tumbling down. I think in such an instance he’d be like, oh of course she wasn’t perfect, of course she was a traumatised kid, of course she’s been let down - I should have intervened, I should have done something, oh my god, how could I let myself believe she was anything but my sister? In fairness to poor Zuko, Azula was encouraged to never show weakness, and made it difficult for him to trust and be vulnerable around her as it would often have negative consequence for Zuko, and it’s understandable, if tragic, that Zuko buys into this false perception of his sister, a perception she arguably projects and encourages others to believe, as someone indomitable.
& yeah the crossroads of destiny is a very good example of how when it came to manipulating Zuko, it wasn’t simply a case of showing him a clear route to regaining his honour for his own selfish reasons, but also Azula played into his sense of compassion (in a twisted way) and duty to others, and this could easily also involve a desire for a better, more loving relationship (I haven’t watched crossroads of destiny in a while I can’t recall if the dialogue references the sibling dynamic in particular). I think what makes Zuko & Azula very interesting is that they both may appear to want to have a good relationship, they both may want to love each other, but it’s intermittent between waves of manipulation/resentment/competition that ultimately prevents them from reaching that, and that’s because of the complex circumstances of how they were both abused. Building a loving relationship is about consistently being able to trust and open up and that’s absolutely something they don’t do, and can’t do, not until Ozai is gone.
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