[Translation] TGCF Extra - Chapter 250: The Demon King’s Bed Time Story
I’m translating the Tian Guan Ci Fu / Heaven Official’s Blessings extras for some friends + people on the TGCF discord!
This is the first one I’ve finished, a.k.a. the HuaLian RPS extra. :D;;
Spoiler warnings for: the ghost bride arc, and the start of the banyue arc in book 1
Please credit if using (@erushi on twitter / tumblr). Do not repost.
[TGCF Extra - Chapter 250]
The Demon King’s Bedtime Story - Reading Material for Children
Hua Cheng was ill.
Although it was a small illness, but the fact that a demon king could actually fall ill, was very curious and unexpected.
As such, when Xie Lian returned to Qiandeng Temple, and went to check on Hua Cheng’s handwriting practice as usual, but instead saw that Hua Cheng’s face was slightly flushed, he was greatly worried.
After pressing Hua Cheng down on the altar – yup, just the other day, they both had a round on this wide and spacious altar; after all, there weren’t any [god] statues – Xie Lian reached out a hand, and after checking his cheeks and forehead, grew even more worried: “That’s really hot.”
Hua Cheng smiled and said, “I naturally get hot when I see gege, and when gege touches me I get even hotter.”
1. I’m more active on twitter these days. Look me up @erushi over there if you need to get in touch!
2. I’ve also fallen pretty deeply into MXTX novels fandom (MDZS, Tian Guan Ci Fu / Heaven Official’s Blessing, Zha Fan / Scum Villian) since my last tumblr post aaaages ago. I’ll be posting some stuff here soon. But in the meanwhile, if you’re in the fandom too, do say hi? :D
[Text and images by @jubi-leeeee (@jmwritesthings on Twitter). Original thread here. Cross-posted with permission.]
When I watched the #Free_DF ending, I recognised the setting immediately as the Esplanade Concert Hall.
So @erushi and I bought tickets to gain access to the foyer.
If you’re keen on historical AUs, swordfights, blindfolds, inappropriate use of jewellery, and/or shameless double entendre, please give this a try! :D
the most fun thing about being a fic author is when you know what’s supposed to happen but when you go to write it you realise that, for the event to be plausible, you need to add another 2k of development and establish like six extra things before you can even get to the scene you need to write, and by ‘most fun’ I mean fuck everything someone take this fucking story away from me I’m on strike
Here’s another sneaky snippet from my piece for @darkhorsezine - a zine focusing on all things Otabek Altin!
I posted my first snippet here. I had lots of fun exploring various periods in Otabek’s life as he grows up, and I hope you’ll enjoy reading about him too.
Pre-orders for the Dark Horse Zine will open on 13 November 2017. Mark your calendars!
He’s fifteen, going on sixteen, when Otabek realises that he might be different.
He supposes he’s always suspected. He remembers hanging out with the other boys at the rinks in America, taking turns to smuggle in those magazines to share. They’d discuss the female models afterwards, about who had the biggest tits or the nicest ass, and whether they’d rather do the redhead with the lace bra on the cover or the blonde with the furs on page thirty-three.
Otabek had joined in, because sure, the women were all kinda hot, like the brunette posing with the motorcycle on the centre-spread. But he’d also wondered why no one had said anything about the man pictured with her, about the way his leather jacket stretched across his broad shoulders or the way his ripped jeans hugged his thighs. Otabek had stared at the man’s fingers where they curled on the woman’s hip, at the way the man had dipped his head to nuzzle at the woman’s breasts, the hint of five o’clock shadow on his square jaw, and Otabek had thought that was also kinda hot too. But he hadn’t realised what that might have meant. Not then.
Now, on the other hand – two weeks shy of his sixteenth birthday – Otabek thinks that he does. The realisation weighs uncomfortably in his gut, a heavy, thorny curl of guilt and shame.
“Hey, Otabek!” JJ calls from the rink, and oh, Otabek thinks, knows, that that’s yet another problem, right there.
The monochrome version of the illustration which inspired this fic is reproduced above with Peggy’s permission. The full-colour version, and all the other illustrations that were done for this fic, are only available in the zine.
If you’re following me on Twitter, you may have noticed that I’m writing for @darkhorsezine - a zine focusing on all things Otabek Altin. :D
Mine’s an introspective piece that follows Otabek’s dreams, goals, relationships etc. as he grows up. I just submitted the final draft today, and so, in celebration, here’s a snippet:
They go to a club. Otabek blinks.
“Not expecting this?” Leo laughs.
“Can we even get in?”
“I know someone,” Leo grins, easy and bright.
That someone turns out to be the DJ. Otabek’s not sure what
Leo’s told him – although he won’t be surprised if it’s something like, please, cheer my roommate up, for God’s
sake; his moodiness is getting all of us down – but they manage to persuade
him to allow Otabek behind the turntable. Leo fits the headphones over Otabek’s
ears carefully, like a crown in a strange coronation, while the DJ guides
Otabek’s fingers to the mixing console. He gestures at a dial, and Otabek turns
the knob obediently. There’s a split-second of silence, during which Otabek
freezes, certain that he has just screwed up.
Then, the bass drops.
Pre-orders for the Dark Horse Zine open on 13 November 2017. I’ve seen sneaks of the other contributions, and the amount of talent in the zine is amazing. 10/10 would recommend getting!
Written for
@otabek-altin-week, Day 6: “AU/Crossover”.
Also for @peggyshrooms, fellow Kingsman fan, Otabek connoisseur, and amazing artist.
This actually started out as a tweet-fic, until I decided that I liked the idea enough to expand it. I’ve also done a companion Victuuri tweet-fic here, which Peggy turned into a comic here.
In July, I wrote 4 fics for the Lover/Fighter Otayuri fanzine, a collaboration with the amazingly talented @peggyshrooms. Here’s the first of the four, and possibly my favourite. (I may be working on a sequel. >_>)
The monochrome version of the illustration which inspired this fic is reproduced above with Peggy’s permission. The full-colour version, and all the other illustrations that were done for this fic, are only available in the zine.
(Also posting this in honour of Otabek Week, although this is not a formal submission since it’s not new content. ^^;;)
Discovered that the pop-up Kingsman shop on St James Street coincided with my time in London. I couldn’t resist. :D
Photos are allowed in the shop. The staff are also super duper nice. They were very kind to the various fans who came, and even shared trivia.
I took a bunch of photos, for friends who could not travel there. Sharing them here too. :) I’m completely wow-ed by the attention to detail in setting up this shopfront. <3
The shopfront. I took so many photos in front of it. I must have amused the shop staff.
I just wanna say God bless anyone and everyone in the tmfu fandom who are still making graphics and fanfictions, whether we get a sequel or not u are highly appreciated.
Not participated in TMFU fandom for a good while, and I now kinda guilty about the couple of fic WIPs I have for it ahahaha.
Still, the #napollya tag on tumblr continues to make me happy whenever I check it out, so thank you, o wonderful people still active in this fandom! <3
What if Yurio picked Otabek’s yukata for him, so that they’d match?
So here are 200-ish words exploring precisely that. :D;;
Otabek doesn’t catch on immediately. It’s not the first time that he’s gone shopping with Yuri, and it’s not the first time that Yuri’s tried to pick clothes for him. He still has that t-shirt from Barcelona, the one Yuri insisted he get because it brought out his eyes - whatever that meant.
As yukata go, Otabek supposes this one’s alright. It’s black, a colour he likes, and the silver design is pretty cool. Yuri’s also really keen on it, which is a plus.
He’s still a little self conscious, however, when he steps out of the changing room. “Ta-dah,” he says, putting on his best please-like-me smile.
Yuri gives him a thumbs-up, which is enough to convince Otabek to pay for the yukata shortly after.
It’s only later, when he’s drinking some kind of sweet, fizzy lemonade from a blue bottle, that he catches on.
Yuri hooks his arm around the crook of Otabek’s elbow, snuggling againat Otabek’s bare arm. (Otabek had folded the sleeves of his yukata up by then, the weather hot as it is.)
“I’m glad we match,” Yuri says cheerfully.
Otabek glances at the pattern on Yuri’s yukata, takes in the colours. He looks down at his.
Celebrating my having (finally!) finished my Victuuri reverse bang fic… by writing more Victuuri. :D This time, a sequel to the short Mafia AU I did in February.
I quite like how the first bit of the sequel is shaping out so far. Here’s hoping I actually finish it for posting, instead of letting it die in WIP hell. :D;;
Meanwhile, my Victuuri RB fic will be posted on 28 June. Stay tuned!
An urban fantasy in which Otabek Altin is a consulting wizard, Yuri Plisetsky is a member of the fae, and together they fight crime have to find the mythical Grand Prix medal before another person dies.
This was meant for Otayuri Week 2017, Day 7: “Fantasy” on 26 February, but I fell behind because of work. Still, better late than never, and at least I caught Yurio’s birthday on 1 March. Happy birthday, our favourite Russian ice tiger!
- calling his date’s friend for help on what to wear
- green sunglasses pink superstar jacket
- facing the world but sinking into an existential crisis when a kid doesn’t like him
- praying he’s not drunk when he wakes up in the morning
- aggressively longing for inner peace
- high key avengers nostalgia
- asking and remembering stark industries employees names
- personally lending a hand in the rehabilitation process of known criminals
- “don’t you believe in dreams?”
- broken mirrors
- divine comedy references
- “malory” and “captain america” passwords
- the “&$&@ it, fire everything” protocol
- waking up in a hospital and, “don’t sedate me, i’m an alcoholic”
- to a little girl “don’t be frightened. i’ll be right back. and one day, you can sing me a song”
- riding on the back of the motorcycle
- using pictures of his girlfriend as a bookmark
- “this is a heist movie”
- stark datashades
- the blonde clean-shaven steve rogers-esque undercover look
- casually owning a captain america costume
- sad post-mortem videos
- growing up as a “sensitive boy” who cried ~too much
- james bond references
- drawing heart shapes on fogged glass
- getting his nose broken trying to defend a woman from harassment
- keeping wedding pictures of happy and pepper on his mantelpiece like an actual grandmother
- having vivaldi play as soon as he steps into the house
- extreme sports junkie
- “the drink or the dream?”
- talking about both “tony stark” and “iron man” as entities separate from each other and separate from himself
- a part of him is dead and the other is screaming in pain
- space fascination
- rollerskates
- being scared of the dark
- feeling bad about killing sewer rats and lizards
- FEAR OF COCKROACHES
- horoscope nerd
- e X t r e M e horoscope nerd
- wanting to die but not dying because he doesn’t think he has done enough even though he also thinks he’s done too much lol “necessary monster”
- weird choices for sleeping places
- the “grinding but hollow feeling” that makes him want to drink
- slipping AA sayings into casual conversation
- tony’s personal christmas shopping = christmas shopping for people at the homeless shelter he funds
- christmas wish: “someone to watch over me”
- hating magic
- hiring anyone who demonstrates valor on the spot (pepper potts, happy hogan, marcy pearson, etc) almost like he’s knighting them 😎
- broken bones and coughing blood inside the armors
- when the suit fails: “don’t be a coffin”
- disturbing medical protocols
- the creepy satanic undertones in several of his nightmares
- not believing in heaven and hell but believing he’d go to hell if it existed
- also high key wondering if he IS in hell
- to be continued
- buying out entire disneyland to go on a lunch with a woman he just met
- making a black woman head of stark enterprises in case of his death
- making RHODEY head of stark enterprises in case of his death
- code names “mother hen” and “papa bear”
- being “uncle tony” to cassie lang
- “damn you for making me do this” when forced to kill a terrorist
- “i hate when you look at me like that”
- basically adopting babyvengers
- being carol’s sponsor
- considering a baby of a woman he lived briefly on the streets with one of “the people close to him” to the point that actual supervillain kidnapped her to get to him
- keeping signed photos of his girlfriends next to his bed like some kind of 40s dweeb
- giant avengers pictures aka tony stark decorating 101
- letting his chestplate battery run out to the point of heart attack on daily basics
- *tony stark jumps into the bushes* *iron man jumps out* ‘i took mr stark to safety’
- being the worst at secret identity, seriously, THE worst
Fastest fic I’ve written, ever, to just meet the Victuuri Week Day 5 deadline. Also much longer than I expected. It’s really just a self-indulgent a love song to two of my favourite fandoms. I hope people like it. :) More information about the “Inception” movie and terminology in the AO3 end-notes, for those unfamiliar with the film.
Let’s just write 1k words about superpowers, I said. This shouldn’t be too long, I said. Famous last words, ahaha. Third offering for the Victuuri Week challenge - I hope people like this one too. :) More story and character background in the AO3 end-notes.
There are now spaces in his apartment. When he finally slumps into bed, the mattress suddenly feels too wide, the sheets too cold, and the other pillow beside him still dips in the centre with the memory of someone else’s head.
—
Or: The one in which Yuuri is away and Victor pines.
My second offering for the Victuuri Week challenge, for the prompts of “travelling - long distance & reunion”. In my head, this is set between the first and soon-to-be second season, after Yuuri moves to Russia, but before the European Championships in end-January. I hope people like this one too. :) Still haven’t finished my third yet - eep!
Yuuri turns to regard him. “You look very young for a businessman,” he says.
Victor laughs. “Mine’s a family business, too.”
It’s not exactly a lie.
—
Or: The Mafia AU in which Victor’s an heir to the Russian mob, Yuuri just so happens to be visiting St. Petersburg, and there’s a hitman loose in the city.
Well, it’s been a while since I last posted any writings. The first fic in a new fandom is always nerve-wrecking. I hope people like this one, indulgent as it is. :) With any luck, I should be posting a couple more offerings in the Victuuri Week challenge.
Just watched both the TMFU and Spectre films on a flight, and I’m brimming with fannish feels once again. I feel quite inspired to poke at my unfinished Napollya, 00Q and MalloryQ fics. :D
hey i just wanna say that i love ur malloryq fic 2 death ok (it's legit my fave fic tbqh) and i <3 ur characterisation (esp. mallory's taste in literature) and honestly tht domestic!malloryq fic sounds rly gr10 like thnk u 4 writing xx <3
You’re really too kind, anonymous reader! Thank you so much for your lovely comment. I’m very glad that the fic worked for you. :) I’ll probably revisit this story with a sequel at some point in the future (after I finish at least a couple more other WIPs *cough*), because I feel that there’s so much more of a story to tell. :)
He imagines every now and then that this, perhaps, this is what he likes best about Gareth Mallory. They are both weapons in their own individual ways, questions of life and death reduced to a single alphabet, and Q has always had thing for ruthlessly competent bastards anyway.
Or: A story about crushes, semi-drunken confessions, and gunfire somewhere along the way.
I watched Spectre as a 00Q fangirl, but emerged shipping Mallory’s M and Q after that delicious showdown scene at the end. This fic is the result, with an obvious warning for Spectre spoilers, and I wish I had the time to write more, because I can just picture them being all domestic except for when there are awesome spy shenanigans. Meanwhile, the rest of MI6 secretly fanboys/fangirls about their boss shagging their quartermaster, in between gossiping about the latest stunt 007 has pulled.
All the same, I’ve a 00Q fic and two Napollya (TMFU) fics still in the works, and I had best get on with those, now that I’ve (temporarily) silenced the clamorous MalloryxQ voice in my head. :D;;
So I re-watched the movie last night, and I’ve been thinking about those credit scenes, in which you see glimpses of their confidential files, and in which the rawest, ugliest bits of their characters are laid out (and this is related to why I think Gaby Teller is poorly written, because she is without essential flaws, but that will be a subsequent rant about misogynistic writing in general.) Anyway, Napoleon is a gambler, and addict, a con man, a thief. In other words: a liar. Illya’s chief flaw, of course, is what his file calls “violent personality disorder.” In other words: a psychopath. I’ve talked before about how interaction with Napoleon leads to his first psychotic episode that a) occurs because he does NOT want to commit violence, and b) ends in something other than violence. (We’ll come back to that last point.)
At issue here is how each man helps the other begin to resolve their chief character flaw — or at least, begin to grapple with it. Because Napoleon is a liar, and every iteration of him as a person — art thief, spy, man of the world — is just him being a liar, because that’s what lying liars do. They create a persona and then inhabit it, and Napoleon’s persona is the sophisticated confidence man who “prefers to work alone” and needs nothing and no one, whose sense of personal integrity is elastic at best, and who certainly feels no loyalty to anyone, anything, or any idea other than himself. He is not a nice man. He is not a particularly good man. It is not a particularly good man who ditches Illya in that boat and swims to shore, then sits there — in one of the film’s most hilarious sequences — calmly eating a sandwich and some warm chianti while Illya literally goes down in flames in the background. He even starts to drive off, because of all the victims of his lies, there is none greater than Napoleon himself. He has lied to himself about who he is, because the lie to oneself is the chief and greatest con of all, and he’s mastered it. He is Napoleon Solo, and he doesn’t care about anyone, because that will just weigh you down, and he won’t tolerate so much as a speck of lint on his jacket. So he starts to drive off, leaving Illya to certain death.
Only he can’t, quite.
You can see the moment when it happens: Is this who I am? Of course it is, what you are talking about, just drive! But… it’s not who I am, is it? You can see the moment when he accepts that he has been lying to himself; he is not the person who can drive away, dammit. He wishes he were. But he’s not, and he accepts that, and he drives back, launching himself into the water, because when Napoleon decides to do a thing, it will not be done by halves.
Illya helps him stop lying.
From that point on in the film, there is a realness to Napoleon that Cavill plays beautifully. He has been stripped of the ability to lie to himself, and while he still lies to others with perfect ease — he wouldn’t be much of a spy if he couldn’t — he can no longer lie to himself. He is a person with loyalties, and he does care what happens to other people, in particular this strange and provoking man who has made him start to question every assumption about himself and the world he has made.
And what of Illya?
He does not lie to himself, and never has. He is a person of extraordinary honesty and directness — Napoleon’s true foil. But he has other problems, a lot of them. And for the first time, like I said above, he experiences a psychotic episode because he DOESN’T want to kill, and not because he longs to. But even more importantly: for the first time he has a psychotic episode that does not end in someone getting hurt. Napoleon just quietly ripped the lid off the box he has been trapped in, and he did it by tossing him his father’s watch, by reminding him that a world of actual loyalties, of true integrity, of real connection, lies behind the shadow world of politics and espionage that is their day job. That moment of connection is his way out of his prison of psychosis, like the moment of rescuing Illya was Napoleon’s way out of his prison of lies. And even more beautifully, one moment is the direct cause of the other. When Napoleon stops lying to himself, and allows himself to form connections, then he does things like retrieve Nikolai Kuryakin’s watch for no other reason than it is important to Illya. Seeing Napoleon’s connection, and his willingness to own it, defuses the psychosis in Illya. And that connection — that ability to connect, rather, that willingness to admit the capacity for connection lay within him — that was because of Illya. Illya sets the whole loop in motion.
These two deeply flawed men can only be healed by each other, and can only be whole with each other. That is just basic cinematic exposition. That is exactly what the film is saying. Now, as a fangirl and a queer-eyed reader, naturally I am going to extend that connection sexually, which is my prerogative as an imaginative viewer. I’m not saying the film itself connects them sexually. I am saying the film creates their deepest emotional bond with each other, and makes it perfectly clear that there is ONLY ONE PERSON who holds the key to unlocking each of them from their private hells. Call it a romantic connection, call it a soul bond, call it the deepest form of brotherhood, it doesn’t matter — at the end of the day, they are the piece that makes the other whole.
The whole business about God creating Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve, makes him laugh. For one, he had there, too. For another, pretty much everything back then had been made by God, when the world was still all shiny and new.
He doesn’t think he has ever gone by the name of Steve, though. Not that it matters much. These days, he usually goes by the name of Napoleon Solo.
—
Or: The one where Illya and Gaby are reincarnated throughout history, but Napoleon still manages to find them anyway. Please be warned that this fic contains liberal reinterpretation of biblical themes and references. If this is not your cup of tea, you may wish to give this fic a pass.
I think the only thing I can say to about this is, what did I even write ohmygod. More author’s notes and fun history facts on the AO3 page. And again, please be warned for the liberal reinterpretation of biblical themes and references (if it isn’t evident from the opening lines)!