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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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cuffing season /// Ushijima x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [Shiratorizawa fanweek day 5—Firsts] You convince your boyfriend to try something new in the bedroom, but as it turns out, old habits die hard.

A/N: Heard it was Shiratorizawa week 👀 technically I did originally post this on day 5, but I had to repost bc of tag issues, whoops :P Let’s pray it works this time!! edit: apparently it’s still not listed in the tags :<

The song that I mention is Bruno Major’s Old Fashioned (although it doesn’t fit the tone of this fic in the least).

Tags/warnings: mild bondage, size kink, rough sex!!!, marking (bruises/hickeys/etc.), power play/power exchange, reader tries & fails to dom Mr. Ushijima 😳, all characters are adults

Look, Ushijima’s a great boyfriend. Perfect, almost. Sure, he may not be the most expressive guy, but you’ve been dating him long enough that you’re able to pick up on the little gestures that tell you that he cares about you—the way he presses his face into your hair when you hug him after you’ve been apart for a while; his hands stroking circles into your skin when you fall asleep in bed next to him; all of it. He’s everything you could possibly look for in a man, except for one not-so-little issue:

The sex.

Because Ushijima, your sweet, wonderful boyfriend, who kisses you so gently it’s like he thinks you’ll fall apart if he’s not infinitely careful with you, is for some reason incapable of exercising the same degree of restraint (or any restraint at all) when you’re in bed together. When it comes to sex, your boyfriend is a fucking animal. And you’re not really sure how much more you can handle.

Maybe your concerns would seem petty from an outsider’s perspective. It’s not like Ushijima doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and it’s not like you don’t want to have sex. You’re attracted to him, of course you are! Almost 76 inches and 190 pounds of pure muscle, a body that looks like Michelangelo could have carved it from marble, and that beautifully solemn expression that had you salivating over him from the stands before you even knew his name? You want to have sex with him, you’re just fairly certain you can’t, not when it always ends up with you completely and utterly wrecked, so spent you don’t even have the strength to lift your hips off the mattress so he can wipe his cum off your thighs.

Look, anyone in your position would feel the same way. It’s awful and you’ll never admit it to him, but you almost broke up with him after the first time you two fucked. You knew going in that it wouldn’t be easy—the man radiates big dick energy and boy did he deliver—but it was just too much.

That first time had started off so innocuously, with you inviting him to your place for a nightcap after your sixth date. You’d set candles and put on your romantic sex playlist for a nice backdrop to let him hold you in his lap and make out—how the hell had you gone from that to having him rut you into the mattress, your belly pressed into the sheets and ass arched up so he could pound into you so forcefully that your rickety bed smacked into the wall hard enough to rattle the furniture with every movement, and you couldn’t even hear it over the sound of your own moaning? You hadn’t changed the playlist, and it felt downright obscene to listen to Bruno Major croon about love and courtship while Ushijima fucked into you like he was trying to carve the shape of his cock into your pussy.

You’d had to call in sick the next day because you could barely walk. The bruises from where he held your hips had taken weeks to fade, and by that time he’d already given you new ones. To his credit, Ushijima felt bad when he saw the evidence of how rough he’d been and he promised to take it easy on you next time…but after a few more rounds of mind-numbingly savage sex you learned that the man apparently doesn’t know what ‘take it easy’ means.

To be fair, at least some of it is your fault. You really shouldn’t have offered to go on the pill as a three-month anniversary present to him. At least before, he had to give you a break while he changed condoms after he came; now he has no reason to hesitate, instead going for round two (and sometimes round three) without pulling out. You never thought you’d see superhuman stamina as a bad thing, but…

“You don’t get it! It’s like getting fucked by a stallion. I need to plan to have three days to recover whenever I take him home with me,” you whined to your friends over cocktails when they told you you shouldn’t complain about a good thing—after all, Ushijima is just as committed to your pleasure as he is to his own, and there’s never been an occasion where he didn’t get you off before fucking you himself (probably at least a little because there’s no way in hell you’d be relaxed enough to take him otherwise).

“Can’t you just tell him to go slower?” one of your friends asked. “If he doesn’t listen to you, then that’s fucked up and you need to dump him.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t listen. If I tell him to stop, he stops,” you sighed, stirring your drink with the straw and watching the decorative sprig of mint fall under the surface to be overtaken by a chip of ice. “It’s like he can’t go slower. He’s not adjustable—it’s either crazy brutal or nothing, and then neither of us get what we want. Like a vibrator you can’t turn off the highest level. I don’t even think he realizes in the moment how intense it is for me.”

“Aren’t you ever on top? You can set the pace.”

“I’ve tried, but Ushi just—“ you made a gripping motion with your hands and mimicked raising something up and setting it down vigorously— “like, bounces me.”

One of them raised an eyebrow and then her eyes widened. She turned to your other friend and the two of them whispered to each other for a bit, then shifted back to you. “Tie him up,” she said with the air of an elder imparting sage knowledge, and your other friend nodded.

“Oh, come on.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. Guys usually love it when girls are in control, you just need to take the initiative. Get him tied down and then you can show him exactly how you like it. Let him feel like he’s at your mercy for once.”

The idea had seemed unthinkable at the time, but you hadn’t been able to forget it—which is why after weeks of contemplation, hours of research, and a single extremely awkward trip to a sex shop, you’re now crouching over Ushijima’s naked chest, wrapping a leather cuff around one of his wrists.

“Are you sure that this is something you want to do?” Ushijima asks in that weighty baritone that makes you shiver with need. He doesn’t pull away, but he eyes your actions warily as you thread the chain of the cuffs around a rung in the center of your headboard and reach over to do the other side.

“…Yes,” you tell him, a little less firmly than you would have liked, and you lick your lips to try to make up for how suddenly dry your mouth is. “Anyway, isn’t that my line? We don’t have to do the cuffs if you don’t want to. I won’t force you.”

“It’s alright. You and I both know you couldn’t force me, (Y/N).” Dark eyes pin you down and it’s incredibly unfair how much power he has over you even when he’s the one chained to the bed.

Ushijima’s right, obviously—if he didn’t want to be exactly where he is right now, he wouldn’t be. You’re sure as hell not strong enough to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Okay then…good,” you reply, adjusting the straps of the cuffs to accommodate for how stupidly thick his wrists are. When you’re satisfied that they won’t chafe but he can’t get out of them without your help, you sit back next to his chest and admire your handiwork. Ushijima lays on his back, naked, relaxed, even with his arms stretched up to your headboard and cuffed there. He looks good, mouthwateringly good, and you’re ready to get your hands on him when you remember there’s something you need to get straight first. “Wait, before we—before I do anything, remember— what do you say if you want me to stop?”

“…Vanilla,” Ushijima says, reciting the safeword you decided on when you were hammering out details, although the look in his half-lidded eyes is telling you very clearly that he has no intention of needing to use it.

Privately you agree, but everything you’ve read on the kink blogs you’ve been trolling for research tells you that a responsible adult doesn’t put cuffs on their partner without deciding on a safeword first, and you’re determined to do this by the book. “Good boy,” you say, and the diminutive feels awkward in your mouth until you see Ushijima’s reaction—the flash in his eyes, a minuscule hitch in his breathing next to you, and the scrape of metal against wood as he gives a light pull at the cuffs.

With everything safe and accounted for, you give a final tug to the chain to ensure it’s secure, then inch back and swing one leg over the broad expanse of his chest so you’re straddling his abdomen (and he’s so damn big that there’s a twinge of soreness in your thighs just from sitting on top of him). Fuck, he looks good like this, all spread out and pinned underneath you, so masculine and bulky that you’re feeling your pussy get wet just from watching him watching you.

It’s not often you get to appreciate him like this—usually you’re too focused on not losing your mind from how deeply he’s fucking you—so you savor it, massaging his shoulders and sliding your fingers down his sides, tracing the smooth skin with a feather-light touch and then dipping to kiss under his jaw. Feeling more than a little devious, you let your teeth graze over the thin skin at the base of his neck and with your chest pressed into his, it’s not hard to feel his sharp intake of breath.

“The marks...my teammates will notice.”

“Maybe I should stop, then,” you murmur against his skin, lifting up just enough to brush over his nipples. He stiffens, and once again you hear him tugging at the cuffs.

“…Don’t. I want them to see,” Ushijima says, and once you have his permission you don’t waste any time in latching your mouth to his skin and sucking. It’s been ages since you’ve given anyone a hickey. Usually you’re the one marked up like a teenager after Ushijima has his way with you, so this is a nice change of pace, especially when you can feel him flexing underneath you.

Well, kissing is nice…but you’re getting impatient and you know he is too. Once you’re satisfied that your hickeys are going to show up nice and bright red around his neck like a collar, you sit back, walking your hands back on his chest, stroking over his abdomen and giving a little roll of your ass on top of him. Ushijima’s hips twitch—unconsciously, you wonder?—and he glares at you in a way that tells you in no uncertain terms to hurry up and let him fuck you.

And damn it, something about that look has you feeling weak. Needy. Obedient. But this time you’re supposed to be in charge, so you smirk and lift your hips, pulling your body back so his cock is nestled between your legs, not quite touching your pussy. He’s already hard—no surprises there, considering how intently he’s watching you as you mess with him—but you only take a second to stroke his cock up and down before shifting up so he can see you slick your fingers up in your own pussy.

“(Y/N)…” Ushijima’s voice is low, annoyed, and he looks hungry. But you’re so amazed at how wet you are under your own fingers that you don’t bother to pay attention to him shifting his position under you to try to get stimulation. Your juices are literally slicking up your own thighs, just from chaining up your boyfriend and teasing him a little? You should have done this a long time ago.

You push two fingers into your pussy and pump them a few times, making sure to angle your hips so Ushijima can see them go in and out. The stretch is almost uncomfortable for a second and you wince a little before schooling your expression, knowing you’re about to have something a lot bigger than two fingers stretching you open. Ushijima catches it though, and he frowns, trying to sit up before remembering the cuffs that are holding him back. “Let me—let me do it for you—“

“No, stay down,” you say quickly, using your other hand to push him back into the mattress while you continue to touch yourself. Ushijima lets you (and there’s no doubt in your mind that he is letting you), but his eyes narrow as he zeroes in on the way your fingers are glistening with your own pussy juices.

God, you’re—you’re supposed to be in control, aren’t you? So then you shouldn’t be feeling like this, eyes drifting closed as you fuck yourself on your fingers, letting your lower knuckles rub against your clit while you try to curl them to rub against your g-spot. Ushijima’s been spoiling you…you can’t remember the last time you’ve had to do this yourself, and as you feel the tension building up slowly you catch yourself wishing it were him fingering you instead.

His fingers are just so thick. And long, and so rough. You bite your lip thinking about the way he does it when he preps you to take his cock, mashing his palm into your clit, petting along inside you and scissoring his fingers and… “Mmh,” you hum, holding back a real moan for Ushijima’s sake.

There’s another click of the chain sliding over the headboard wood and it reminds you that he’s right there, you could just uncuff him and he could touch you and fill you up with those thick fingers, make you cum, make you cry. But the urge to seek your own pleasure is outweighed by the image he’s making as he looks at you, his expression almost angry in its intensity now that he’s watching you do this to yourself and he has no way to get his hands on you.

“Ahh—“ you whine, letting a real whimper out at the thought of what you’re doing to him. “Ushi, Ushi, do you wanna touch? Wanna touch me?”

His head ducks into a hasty nod and his jaw clenches at the strain of having to ask for what he wants instead of just taking it like usual.

The longer you touch yourself, the closer you’re getting…but you don’t want to cum, not just yet. You draw your fingers out of your dripping cunt and open them up in a V, showing off the juices that connect them, the evidence of how wet you are for him. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I think there’s something else I want in me instead.”

And then you’re reaching to the side for the lube, squeezing a healthy dollop into your palm and then wrapping your hand around Ushiijma’s cock. And—fuck, he’s big. Sure, you’ve had sex with him plenty, but no matter how often you take him, you never stop feeling absolutely torn up after. A tingle of trepidation races up your spine at the thought of riding him like this—can you even put it in by yourself?

Even just looking at it is intimidating. He’s painfully hard, cock flushed red and bobbing up against his lower stomach every time you let it go, and, Jesus, how is it even possible that this thing would fit inside you? When you wrap your hand around him your fingers don’t touch; he must be thicker around than your own wrist.

Halfway. That’ll going to be your goal tonight, to take him halfway. And even that…is going to be a stretch.

The anxiety must show on your face because once again you’ve got Ushijima straining at the cuffs. “(Y/N)—“ he spits as you stroke him up, nudging your palm against the tip. “(Y/N), you need to finish first. Let me make you cum.”

“No, this time I want to—I’m gonna cum on your cock,” you say, adjusting your position so you’re kneeling above him, the head of his cock sliding between your lips. “Gonna cum on your big cock, Ushi, okay?”

His cock jumps in your hand at the provocation. He’s glaring at you, but he’s also leaking precum, the sticky fluid mixing with the lubricant. You give Ushijima a moment to say the safeword if he really doesn’t want you to, and when he stays quiet you raise yourself up a little more and line the head of his cock up with your weeping slit. You hold your pussy lips open with your fingers, easing your thighs down and pressing the head into you and—

“Oh—oh—oh, fuck, oh fuck, Ushi—“ you stutter out helplessly.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last fucked you. One week, six days and about three hours, and at the moment this measure of time seems unreasonably important because it’s been almost two weeks since you last let Ushijima split you in half with his ridiculously huge cock.

You’re not ready, should’ve prepped more, should’ve let him make you cum like he said—fuck, it feels like you’re losing your virginity—and the mixture of dismay and relief that spills over you when the thick swell of his head pushes past that tight ring of muscle is almost nauseating.

The tip? Seriously, just the fucking tip, and you’re already delirious, shaking, your thighs quivering on either side of his. It’s taking all of your strength to keep from going slack—but you know if you do, his whole cock is going to slide up into you and even thinking about that has your cunt clenching and unclenching around what you’re able to fit inside.

“Do you need help?” Despite the strain in Ushijima’s voice at being teased like this, there’s an undercurrent of amusement. He clearly doesn’t have faith in your ability to take him deeper by yourself.

It’s this—this quiet arrogance, this belief that he knows what’s best for you and he’s the only one who can give it to you—that gives you the guts to convince yourself to lower yourself down onto his his cock until you’re literally gasping for air. It fucking hurts, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it; instead, you brace your hands against the stiff muscle of his chest and try to focus on the way his cockhead is pressing into your g-spot.

Halfway…he’s gotta be at least halfway in, right? You sneak a glance up at him and bite back a curse at the look on his face, serious as ever, so focused on the place where your pussy is reluctantly eating up his cock that you feel your insides tense up around him again.

You don’t even know how it’s possible for you to get tighter around him but somehow you must be able to, because you hear Ushijima grunt underneath you, and his muscles contract under your palms as he tries again to sit up. When he can’t, he hisses in frustration. “Move…now. Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Funny, aren’t you supposed to be the one controlling him? But it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way when you’re barely able to stay upright just from trying to ride his cock. You nod desperately, chin jutting up and down like a bobblehead, and lift your hips up off his cock until just the tip is left inside. When you push yourself back down you can’t help whimpering at the feeling of him stretching you, sliding up into you, that stiff, wet cockhead dragging over your g-spot.

By now the pain has faded into an uncomfortable stretch, like leaning too heavily into a foreign pose in yoga, enough that you’re able to feel the arousal building in the pit of your belly and hold onto it as you rock your hips up and down him. The pace is slow—almost too slow; you marvel at yourself for wanting it faster—and there’s a fair amount of Ushijima’s cock that you’re not able to take, but this is really all you can handle.

“Mmm, Ushi, fuck, you’re so big, so big and hard inside me, feels so good on your cock—“ you moan, knowing you sound less like the dominant partner in this position and more like you’re teasing him, pushing his limits.

Ushijima’s breathing is heavy. Labored. He’s trying to hold himself back. “(Y/N), deeper—take me deeper, now.”

Part of your brain vaguely recognizes that he isn’t supposed to be giving the orders here, but you’re too drunk on the feeling of fucking yourself on his cock to complain, so you lower your hips and try, but it feels like you’re just too weak to do it yourself. “Ushi please, it’s too much, too big, I can’t, please—“

And your pleading must sound like an invitation, because his eyes flash and you feel him shifting the position of his legs behind you—and then he bucks his hips up and his cock sinks into your cunt, pushing up into your gooey insides until the head is pressing into the tight opening of your cervix.

“Ahn—?” you squeal, startled. What? He—what? Fuck, it’s deep, it’s so deep, you can’t hold yourself up so you flop downward, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, “ohhh Ushi pleasepleaseplease” and you barely hear yourself over the lubed-up slap of his pelvis against your skin.

Fuck, it feels like he’s knocking the breath out of you. Feels like you can’t fucking breathe like his cock isn’t just pushing against your stomach but your lungs too, can’t breathe so you bear down on his shoulders try to hold yourself up try to let yourself adjust but—

Ushijima’s in control now.

Not that he ever wasn’t, you’d think if you were capable of thinking except you’re not because as you try to situate yourself make yourself relax around that monster cock filling you up, he’s not giving you a moment to catch your breath, instead thrusting up into you at his usual breakneck pace. Apparently he doesn’t need to use his hands to make you bounce—you’re not even moving yourself now, just trying to hold still as his hips slam his cock inside you again and again and again, and again, rubbing up against that sweet spot in your pussy so quickly that you think you might go crazy from it.

“Nngh, so tight,” he growls, and you can tell from the way the words are choked out that he’s gritting his teeth. You almost want to roll your eyes—of course you’re tight, anyone would feel tight around him—but it feels like if you do your eyes might roll back in your head so you don’t.

Jesus fuck, you can’t even understand how long it’s been but you do know that it’s absurd for you to want to cum already, only the thick mass of his cock pushing into you is somehow hitting all the right buttons, just like it always does. Even if it’s rough you want more. By now you’re trying to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips in time with him fucking you open, doing your best to participate but really it’s all you can do to even stay still with how roughly he’s fucking you. “Ushi, fuck, so deep, wanna cum I wanna cum please let me cum—“

“Touch yourself,” he commands breathlessly because he’s still tied to the headboard and he can’t do it, and you barely have the strength to pick one of your hands up off of where you’re scratching into his shoulder and pull it down to rub at your clit.

It’s not enough and you whimper desperately, you don’t want your own fingers, you want Ushijima’s, you want him to touch you. You’re probably saying it out loud by now, begging him to put his hands on you—his eyes widen and then the sound of the metal cuff chain grating over wood reaches you—you can see the skin of his wrists get lighter from lack of blood flow, he’s pulling at the cuffs, pulling too hard, he’s going to hurt himself, you have to stop him—and then you hear a snap.

Aw, shit. The bed.

The thought comes in a singular moment of clarity as you watch the rung Ushijima’s chained to separate itself from the rest of the headboard, splintering, the nail that held it in place looking pathetically flimsy next to the veins bulging in his arms as he slides the chain away from it. He flexes his hands, forming fists and then unclenching them to restore the interrupted blood flow, and then you’ve only got a second to prepare yourself before he’s upright, dragging your hips up to meet his.

“Ushi, Ushi, Ushi, I want, please, I want you,” you beg, but you didn’t really have to because you’re pretty sure there’s no force on Earth that could stop him from holding you up so he can fuck down into you with a ferocity that could be mistaken for anger if you weren’t certain it was really lust.

The entire bed is creaking and rocking against the force of his movement, but you don’t really have the headspace to worry about more property damage considering he’s got you supporting yourself on the mattress on your back and shoulders, your spine curled up so he can kneel and still have your hips aligned with his, your legs dangling bonelessly on either side of him.

Fuck. Holy fuck. You open your mouth but words don’t come out, only a choked whimper, but if you could speak you’d be saying yesyesyesyesyes, touch me.

Despite your inability to speak, Ushijima picks up on what you need and then along with his cock carving its way in and out of you you’re getting the feeling of his fingers padding over your clit. Rough and callused, not gentle, nothing like the way you touched yourself earlier, but you’re starting to realize you don’t mind the aggression. In fact, it’s good, it’s so good, so good you’re gonna cum.

You’re gonna cum.

A long, drawn-out whine is spilling out of your lips before you can stop it; you wrap your hand over your own mouth out of shame or maybe courtesy to your neighbors (although by now they’ve probably invested in earplugs after listening to you squeal like a pig on Ushijima’s cock dozens of times in the past). Still, as your climax rocks through you shove your thumb between your teeth to bite down on it, but the sharp pain is nothing compared to the pleasure.

“Ushiiiii—“ you sob around your own fingers. Your spine arches—or rather, you try to arch your back but you can’t, not with Ushijima’s full body weight pressing into you and keeping you pinned to the mattress.

It hurts, it feels good, you’re seeing stars, you’re hearing Ushijima snarl as your pussy tightens up and convulses on his cock. His one-handed grip on your ass gets painfully tight as he abandons whatever pretense of restraint he had left and pumps his cock into you so hard and fast you’re pretty sure the headboard isn’t going to be the only thing broken, but you don’t fucking care because you’re cumming, you’re cumming, you’re cumming so hard you think you black out for a second, holy fuck.

It’s only when you hear Ushijima’s panting breath and feel him pulling your hand away from your mouth that you regain your grip on reality. “You’re bleeding,” he says, holding your hand up and inspecting the shallow indentations your teeth made on your thumb.

“…You broke my bed,” you reply tiredly once you’ve gotten in a lungful of air, what feels like the first full breath you’ve been able to take since he put his cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” Ushijima tells you, although he doesn’t look particularly sorry.

You roll your eyes. “Did you cum?”

“Yes. When you did.” Without him holding you up there’s nothing to prevent you from sliding down off his softening (but still unfairly impressive) cock. You’re certainly not strong enough to keep yourself in position.

Even if he hadn’t confirmed it, you’d still be able to feel the familiar heat of his semen plastering your insides, and once your still-sensitive pussy is exposed to the cool air your inner muscles squeeze involuntarily but hard enough to force some of his cum out—you sense it, hot and thick, dripping out of your pussy to smear against your thighs. “Can we take a bath?” you ask, knowing you’ll barely be able to walk over to the bathroom, much less stand under the shower unassisted.

Ushijima nods and moves off the bed. “I can carry you,” he adds when you try to stand up and your knees almost give out before you flop back onto the mattress.

At this angle, with you sitting and him standing in front, it’s difficult not to see that despite cumming literally less than two minutes ago, he’s already getting stiff again. Jesus, is he even human? After how hard you just came, the thought of letting him fuck you again is giving you something stronger than butterflies, but you look up at him and offer anyway. “Wait, do you…um, want to go for another round?”

Ushijima’s gaze meets yours and then travels over your body underneath him. You must look like a mess—sweaty, hair all fucked up and tangled, body still shaking with the aftershocks of your climax and barely able to sit comfortably on your aching pussy—and you guess he sees how jittery (nervous?) you feel because for the first time since your relationship started, he shakes his head to turn down an offer of sex. “No, I’ll take care of it. Let’s clean up first.”

“Okay,” you sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and raising your arms to let him pick you up.

“(Y/N).”

When Ushijima doesn’t move to carry you, you frown. “Hm?”

“The cuffs.”

Oh, right. The black leather is wrapped around both of his wrists, chain still intact. Apparently these cuffs are stronger than your headboard. Good quality. Too bad they’re going in the trash. You make quick work of the release and then undo the straps carefully, massaging over the light pink marks on your boyfriend’s wrists once they’re free.

“Sorry, did it hurt you? I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just wanted…” You trail off, feeling infinitely embarrassed that despite all your claims of dominating him, he still ended up with the upper hand, cuffs or no cuffs. And you liked submitting to him. There’s no denying that.

“It didn’t. And…I enjoyed having you on top,” Ushijima tells you, lifting you effortlessly into a princess-carry now that his arms are free.

“Yeah right. We’re never using those again,” you scoff, tucking your head into his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. “My boss is going to get mad that I keep taking sick days every time I have sex with you. I’m just going to throw the cuffs out.”

From your position, so close to him, you can barely see the upward quirk of his mouth that would be as good as laughter for anyone else. “Don’t get rid of them. I think…next time, I would like to have you wearing them, (Y/N).”

Well, fuck.

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years

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‘Crucified’ - Savior Saeran x Reader NSFW 18+ Reader Insert

Title: Crucified

Paring: Savior Saeran Choi x Implied Female Reader

Wordcount: 8K

Rating: 18+

Tags: church sex, altar sex, oral sex, wax play, just a whole lot of blasphemy

Based on: ‘Crucified’ by Army of Lovers - Youtube Link

A sharp knock came at your door. It was almost midnight, and you’d already showered and gotten into bed for the evening, so you didn’t understand who would be needing your attention so late. Part of you wanted to ignore the knocking and pretend you couldn’t hear it through your sleep, but you knew that there was a good chance that whoever was knocking wouldn’t leave until they had gotten your attention. So, you sighed and pulled your long dressing gown on and wrapped it tightly around your body since you didn’t know who might be at the door at such a hour. You opened it to find two Believers who introduced themselves by Believer number and greeted you with ‘For Paradise.’

‘The Savior wants you in the Chapel. We have been sent to escort you there.’ They shifted uncomfortably.

You squinted, scrutinising them slightly, ‘At this time?’

While it wasn’t uncommon to be summoned or woken up at any hour of the night, you were always tentative to leave your room after dark since Magenta was so large and was, strategically, built like a maze. You were always too worried about getting lost on your way around. The only place you could feasibly find your way to and from after dark was the gardens since you no longer had Ray as an escort around the rest of the building. A small, sad voice echoed in your head, correcting yourself that you no longer had Ray at all.

‘We are not ones to question orders from The Savior. We were told to deliver this to you.’ The hooded Believer handed the wrapped item to you.

The Believers knocked once again on your door, telling you that The Savior had told them to bring you promptly, so you hurried yourself out of the room and into the corridor. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed the heavy rain from inside your room but it seemed to be thrashing violently against the windows along the winding corridors towards the chapel, and was amplified by the silence of the Believers that escorted you. Briefly, you considered asking whether they knew why The Savior had wanted to see you at such a time but figured that they wouldn’t tell you the truth even if they did know so it would be pointless to try. After all, who would willingly walk to their own Cleansing? They wouldn’t have wanted to have made their own jobs more difficult by having you put up a fight.

You were slightly confused and held the item out of view behind the door as you opened it, ‘Right. Allow me a moment to change into this.’ They nodded and you closed the door. Turning on the light, you quickly unwrapped the item in its entirety; It was a short, black chemise. For a moment, you looked at it in surprise. This was… unusual. You ran your fingers over the fabric, until your heart raced at the realisation that perhaps you were being taken for a Cleansing. You wracked your brain for any instance where you might have upset The Savior without realising, but none immediately came to mind. You knew the Savior had the tendency to never talk about the forwarding intentions of Mint Eye, so everyone was almost perpetually on edge. You changed quickly and placed your dressing down back over your shoulders, wrapping it tightly once again. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out, and the Chapel was always cold, especially after the sun had gone down. You knew you needed to look presentable, as it was customary for Believers to either never show their face in front of The Savior, or if they were permitted to be seen; made sure they looked their absolute best as to not displease the higher ups.

With that in mind, you raced into your bathroom to spray yourself with some perfume that Ray had once given you, gargle some mouthwash and roughly drag a brush through your hair. As you put on a pair of slip-on shoes, you couldn’t fight the anxiety that had started to bubble in your chest, even though you knew that there was no use in dwelling on it before knowing either way. And yet, you had seen how The Savior had treated other Believers for their wrongdoings, and while you wanted to believe that you were different, believe in the history that the two of you shared, you were still scared. Perhaps it was because of that history, that bond, that was the cause of your summons.

The Chapel had been built slightly to the side of the main Magenta building, so you had to go outside to get to it. Luckily, there was a shelter that ran all the way along towards the Chapel entrance, so you didn’t get wet, but the wind was enough to rob you of the remaining heat that the anxiety had been merciful enough to leave you with. By the time you stood at the Chapel door, you had been chilled to the bones. The Believers bowed slightly towards you, bidding you farewell with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving you alone to face your apparent penance.

You knocked meekly.

‘Enter.’ The deep voice commanded from within, making your heart skip a beat. Your hands were pressed against the wooden door, but you struggled to find the strength to open them. You hadn’t seen him in so long, the man you saw walking around Mint Eye, who looked through people as though he didn’t see them, was barely a remnant of the man you loved. You knew better than to keep him waiting and pressed yourself into the door and let it close behind you.

The heavy scent of incense and candles were the first thing to hit you when you closed the door, it was almost intoxicating by nature. Despite the Chapel being a newer addition to the grounds, it was somewhat remarkable that it already smelled like an aged church, you felt like you could smell the history that had never been occurred there. During the day, it was usually only illuminated by natural lighting and after the sun went down, they relied on candlelight and the moon for visibility. You heard him move, but dare not lift your gaze.

‘F-For Paradise.’ You stuttered, bowing your head slightly to look at the ground. Had you always been so nervous to see him? Everything was so different now, but it could not be denied that he was the one who personally summoned you to the Chapel at this time of night.

‘For Paradise.’ Saeran replied, ‘Do you know why I’ve summoned you?’ His voice echoed in the dark, small Chapel. Your heart stopped at hearing him speak, you couldn’t even remember the last time that he had directly addressed you. You looked up towards the other end of the small hall to where he was standing, in all of his Savior attire. He stood at the base of the steps before an altar, surrounded by dozens of lit candelabras, the small orange flames were almost enough to cast come colour into his cheeks. Almost. Suddenly, your heart was in your throat and it took you a few seconds to find your words. You couldn’t even process how much you had missed him, how much you had craved for the future that you had hoped to have together in another life.

‘Am I here to be cleansed?’ The words came out as barely a whisper, but he heard nonetheless. You had barely spoken to Saeran since he had become Mint Eye’s Savior, you hadn’t been permitted to request an audience and he had never made a personal visit. He was distant from everyone, cold and composed. It was as though he was imitating Rika, imitating what he thought he should be doing in this new role. He walked throughout Mint Eye as though he didn’t see anyone, even if you passed him, he’d never looked at you. He usually carried himself with an elevated, yet undeniably melancholic presence that was not easy for people to approach. They feared in him the same way that they had once feared Rika, with the added knowledge that Saeran was more experienced with Cleansing rituals. Whereas Rika would only witness and conduct them, Saeran was the one to carry them out.

‘Of sorts. You’ve been brought here to make a confession first. Kneel.’ He turned to you, slowly raising one arm to his side to gesture where he wanted you to place yourself. It was difficult to convince your legs to move, they were leaden with fear. A confession? What had you done that you needed to confess for? And… ‘first’? What did that mean would be coming afterwards and-

‘Come.’ The voice commanded, slightly sterner this time, reflecting a certain degree of the coldness he exhibited walking around Magenta. You gasped, looking up into his face. He, however, was looking away.

You pulled your nightdress around you as you walked between the Chapel pews towards the altar where Saeran was standing. The floor was marble with a singular, dark red carpet running along the centre with the moonlight shining small reflections of colour through the stained-glass window. You glanced up at Saeran as you walked, trying to read his reaction, but he gave nothing away to you. He was a ghost, the ghost of the man you loved.

‘Kneel.’ He said as you dropped to your knees before him. You knew that the Mint Eye beliefs had been steeped in Catholicism, since the previous Savior was a devout believer and there were rumours that the current one before you had been living in a Cathedral prior to coming to Magenta. The religious elements that became core beliefs in Mint Eye were evident throughout both Chapel and practices. It was set up with the same small layout of a church, and while there were no melodic hymns, there were prayers and chants to be memorised and recited, ‘For Paradise’. Saeran even wore a teal cross on his robes, there were other smaller mental crosses littered around the Chapel too. Believers were taught to worship the Savior as though they were a God themselves, as for all intents and purposes, they were akin to one. The dark oak altar was ornate and decorative, adorned with candles and goblets and a matching marble top.

You clasped your hands together in a prayer-like gesture as he told you to and stared down onto the floor with your hands stretched out in front of you. You watched as his robes shift as he turned to you, and a part of you was worried that he was going to hear the thud of your heart echoing throughout the dark building. Suddenly, his hand came into your view, and placed two fingers underneath your chin to tilt your head up to meet his icy gaze.

‘I want to see your eyes when you’re confessing yourself to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.’ He said, removing his fingers. You swallowed, desperate to shudder from the touch but finding yourself unable to move. That was the first time he’d touched you in so long, since long before he became this. You had forgotten how much you had missed his touch and found yourself almost wishing that you had leaned into his hand.

‘Wha- What should I be confessing?’

‘I think we both know.’ He replied from above, his eyes were cruel, never giving you a moment to even gather your thoughts. ‘Confess your feelings for me, for the man who you wanted me to be. Cry for your sweet Ray, mourn for your lost Saeran.’

‘I-I…’ You trailed off, before Saeran interjected with:

‘Would it help you if I acted like them?’ He asked, a slight sneer spreading over his features.

‘No, thank you.’ You muttered, trying to pull your eyes away. You looked down at your hands, knowing that you weren’t going to get out of this confession anytime soon if you didn’t cave in and admit it to him. Of course, Saeran already knew. He still had access to most of their memories, so he knew of the time you shared with each of them, but that was not the point of this confession. It was to taunt you.

‘From the moment this confession starts, every second will be one closer to being bound.’ Saeran turned, picking up one of the long, white pillar candles and titled it so that the wax started dripping onto your clasped hands. ‘Begin.’

One by one, the soft rolls of white wax splattered onto your skin. It felt like a timer of sorts, and in effect, you supposed it was. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to start. In the months it had taken to adjust to the new Savior, you had already mourned for the boys that you had lost, and who they were about to become. You had spent many nights crying for what could have been and for what had gone wrong. You had suffered alone, and been forced to watch the man you love become someone he had struggled so hard to break free from. How were you supposed to say all of this in front of him? Of course, he already knew, but he clearly intended to hear it fall from your mouth like a litany of sins.

The wax began dripping freely over your fingers, seeping in between the lines of your hands and heating between your palms. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you could definitely feel the warmth of the wax melting into your bones. It seemed as though Saeran was about to provoke you to speak again, but you manage to find your voice on your own.

‘Ray-… he was precious. He was so scared.’ You continued to watch the candle drip onto your hands, ‘He was a sweet boy, who gave too much of himself to the wrong people. He was sensitive. Obsessive, even. He just wanted to feel loved in the same capacity that he was willing to love.’ You muttered, as the wax started to slip down your wrists. Saeran seemed to savour the last sentence you spoke, appearing to mull it over in his own mind before deciding the next course of action. It took him a few seconds but he finally asked;

‘And did you?’

‘Yes.’ But of course, he already knew that.

‘And? I’ve always thought him rather melancholic.’ Saeran replied from above, looking rather disinterested with what you had to say about Ray.

‘He just wanted to be happy.’ You replied, watching as Saeran reached for another candle. It hadn’t occurred to you that the wax was slowly sealing your hands together in a frozen prayer, until that moment. He lit the fresh candle off of the dying one and tilted it once more over your hands, cocking his head to one side.

‘So be it. Continue.’ He deadpanned.

You had to think again, Saeran had certainly been a lot. It had taken you even longer to process as, just when you thought there had been a solid hope for him to heal, his salvation had been snatched from his hands once more and poisoned. There had been a lot of times in Magenta that Saeran had scared you, or hurt you. His erratic nature would come at the expense of both of you, and it was only when he realised that he was damaging himself just as much as he was damaging you that the burning rage in his heart that begun to cool. He couldn’t swallow his anger, but he couldn’t stop it from dipping into Ray’s sadness, melding them together in a tragic oasis.

‘Saeran was… scared too, but he had to be scared for himself and for Ray…’ You took a deep breath, ‘He was violent and volatile. Saeran was unstable. Well, they both were, but in different ways. Saeran wanted to be happy too but he didn’t know how to be. Every time some form of happiness was hung in front of him, it was ripped away as soon as he tried to reach his hand out for it; so, after a while he just stopped trying.’

‘How very ‘Beauty and the Beast’ of you.’ He said, twirling the candle in an almost bored-like state.

‘You were the one who asked.’ You muttered, almost forgetting who you were speaking to before hurriedly adding a ‘Savior’ on the end. It was getting rather difficult to unclasp your hands under the thick layer of wax, it had started to cool and harden with the time it had taken to talk about the two lost boys. Saeran tutted, and even though the heavy sounds of the rain, it seemed to be an all-encompassing sound.

‘And Saeran? What about him?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you love him too?’ His face was a little bit different this time, yet you couldn’t figure out quite how. Saeran seemed a little bit more interested, but his face never indicated that you had piqued his interest. This Saeran was so visually cold that you weren’t sure how you should place your emotions in front of him. You had seen how quickly Ray had become Saeran, and you didn’t know who that Saeran had become. And yet, you could not lie.

‘…Yes.’

‘I see.’ He replied but said nothing else as he reached for another candle and began melting it once again. Part of you wanted to ask if the confession was over, but the more reasonable part of your brain said it was better to wait to be dismissed, since it was a Saeran that you did not know. The Chapel was silent aside from the sound of the weather hitting the stained glass and the gentle erythematic breathing coming from the both of you.

‘Have you come to an epiphany of me yet? Preach your findings to me.’ He pulled your face up to meet him once again. No matter the Saeran, his eyes were always the same. Wherever he went, whoever he was; he was doomed to carry that dejected gaze.

‘No… I haven’t.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘Disappointing.’

‘I’m sorry, t-this is the first time we’re meeting.’

‘First impressions then. Don’t keep me waiting.’ His voice was chilly again, clearly dissatisfied that you had yet to draw any conclusions about the man in front of you. You were slightly panicked over the fact that you needed to come up with something on the spot, especially at the risk of offending him. You noticed, in a similar moment, that you were no longer able to part your hands. The wax had solidified to the point where you could just about tense and untense your fingers inside of the warm encasing, but not enough to free them, not unless you put a bit of effort into it. You didn’t have time to consider it much longer, as Saeran’s insistent staring made it overtly apparent that he was impatiently awaiting your response.

‘You’re not…as cold as Saeran. But, you’re also not as optimistic as Ray. Forgive me but-’

‘Go on.’ He said.

‘It’s like you’re the melancholic combination of the two… it’s as though you took on the sadness of both of them and made it your own-’

He almost sighed; ‘So that’s what you think.’

‘I’m afraid that I do not know you very well, Saer- Savior.’ Immediately correcting yourself, you sharply bit at the inside if your own cheek for your error. He was silent. You lowered your hands so that they were just resting on your lap as you kneeled

‘I suppose… I could let you know me better…’ His voice dropped as his hand moved from under your chin, to hold you by the jaw, and lift your face up towards him. With his other hand, he grabbed the ornate goblet from on top of the altar and brought it to his own lips, drinking from it slightly. He kept you on your knees, but his movements were slow and purposeful. Saeran never took his eyes from you up until the last moment, waiting to see if you told him to stop. You didn’t. As you felt him place his lips on yours, you let your eyes flutter shut and a tear roll down either cheek. You felt the rush of a liquid flood into your mouth, it was sweet. You knew that Elixir was usually kept in that goblet, as you had seen it forced into people’s mouths during atonements, but this only tasted weakly of that bright blue poison, if at all. Despite your better judgement, you swallowed. You weren’t sure what provoked him to do it, but you thought you’d never get to feel the touch of Saeran’s kiss again. Even if this was to be the last one, you’d have to cherish it.

If you would have asked him why he kissed you in that moment, Saeran probably wouldn’t have told you. He didn’t want to explain that both Ray and Saeran were crying for you. How Ray wanted to hold you in his arms just once more time, how Saeran wanted to try accepting the affection you were so willing to offer him. Neither could stand to see the distance between you and the Saeran in front of you and implored him to do something about it. No, he could never admit that.

He broke the kiss first, and for a moment, he looked as though he was in pain. His hand fell from your face, reaching up to his head for a second as he winced. You wondered, briefly, if Ray and Saeran were both yelling at him in the same way that Ray told you of Saeran’s constant stream of complaints. He wasn’t coughing in the same way that he did whenever he drank the Elixir himself, confirming that what he had given you was not harmful. Even now, in this warped manner, he was trying to protect you in the same way that the other two had done.

In a second of uncharacteristic confidence, you chased his lips, standing to try and kiss him again. You almost stumbled into him in your eagerness. You had been so desperate to repress the feelings of hurt and abandonment in the last few months in the loss of him that you were willing to throw away your sense of anxiety if it meant just getting to be close to him once more. He didn’t move away, letting you kiss at his lips.

It took a few seconds for him to move his lips against yours, since this Saeran still only had the same amount of experience as the others. He made no grand gestures but responded to your touch in the same way that you responded to his. His lips were warmer than you remembered Ray’s being, and you hoped that meant that Saeran was looking after himself better, eating and sleeping as his body needed. He lifted his hand to cup your neck before slowly tracing his fingers to settle on the space between your jaw and neck.

He pulled back, but held onto you, just so he could look at you. You watched as his icy eyes glanced between yours, trying to decipher why you were so willingly still kissing him. He furrowed his brows slightly, as though trying to have a silent conversation with himself, before he kissed you again. This kiss was slightly rougher than the previous times, there was more force behind his lips. It felt emotional. His frozen persona was not melted, but there was a gentle warmth to his touch that reminded you of Ray. You wanted to hold him, to run your hands over his shoulders again like you had dreamt of doing for so long, but your hands remained encase in wax between the two of you. You didn’t want to push your luck, so you gently parted your lips and waited to see if he wanted to deepen the kiss himself. When you felt his tongue slightly touch your lower lip, you all but melted against him. A breath audibly hitched in your throat and seemed to give him a bit more confidence in what he was doing.

Without having your hands free to hold it closed, your dressing gown came undone and Saeran’s hand found its way inside and around your waist, pulling you against him without breaking the contact of the kiss. Your own hands were pressed against your chest in betwixt both bodies, just lightly only your heart which was racing violently.

It was only when the backs of your thighs touched the cold edge of the altar that you registered that you had been guided upwards. Saeran didn’t take his mouth off of you and gently pushed you by the hips. You had to trust had he was moving you properly because, with your hands sealed together in front of you, there was no way to stop yourself if you fell.

You felt somewhat exposed as your dressing gown became completely undone by the time you were ever-so-slightly leaning onto the side of the altar, the temptation to sit on top of the surface was overwhelming, especially after you had been kneeling for so long. As Saeran’s lips descended from your mouth and down along your jaw and tentatively onto your neck, you seized the opportunity to seat yourself on top of the altar, just enough to grant your legs some sanctuary. He cocked an eyebrow at you briefly, before resuming the kisses on your throat.

Now that you were sitting, it seemed too distant, too far away, so you parted your legs to allow him to mover closer once again by standing in between them. He didn’t address it, but quickly understood that you wanted him to fill the space and moved close enough that he was almost looming over you. His presence reminded you of Saeran, in-control and commanding, and yet very attentive. You were somewhat embarrassed by this newfound intimacy, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every single second of it. Part of you felt a sense of religious guilt for doing such things in a Chapel, supposedly under the eyes of God. And yet, it was with the very God of that Chapel that you were committing those sacrilegious acts with, so could it really be desecration of the Holy Ground if he permitted it?

He left small lovebites on your neck, moving down towards your collarbones and you tried to stifle a moan, fearing that it would echo through the building. You gasped at the sensation whenever his lips would attack a new part of your flesh, leaving you more and more sensitive with each passing moment.

‘They both wanted you like this.’ He whispered, almost huskily against your ear. You shuddered against him, immediately wanting more.

‘O-oh.’

‘They thought about it everyday.’ It felt so sinful to be doing something with a man dressed in religious garments, and yet you were entirely captivated by the sight of him.

‘You’re very honest.’ You mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks at his confession. Part of you couldn’t imagine sweet Ray, who stuttered over handing you a rose, would fantasise about something like this.

Saeran paused for a moment before adding: ‘I have no reason to lie about it.’

‘I see.’ You once told Saeran that he only wouldn’t look at you because Ray was in his eyes, but now you could see them both there, staring back at you at he spoke. The melancholy was undeniable, but so was the yearning.

As you moved your arms over Saeran’s shoulders, the motion caused the wax to break and fall off, allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. It was as soft as you remembered, and you could have cried at the feeling of it in your hands. While the Saeran was different, it was still him. There was something undeniably biblical about it, having broken that restraint.

‘Do you require a Cleansing?’ He asked, causing you to break off the kiss. Your heart was already racing from the heated atmosphere, but now it was thudding for a different reason. You looked at him tentatively, making sure you were on the same page.

‘C-cleansing?’

‘A different sort… than the ones conducted downstairs.’ He chose his words carefully, glancing down at the floor as though to emphasise his point, but without any indication as to what he actually meant.

‘What do you mean then?’

‘Intimately.’ Saeran replied.

‘Intimately?’

‘Together.’ He said. Oh. So, that’s how he’s phrasing it. It was only then that you realised how Saeran actually looked. He was panting ever so slightly, his hair dishevelled from there you had had your hands in it, even his long robes were slightly creased from where he had been leaning between your legs. It looked as though his body wanted this as badly as yours did.

You swallowed, ‘Together.’

He once again began kissing you, taking your lips with his as you started to become more and more turned on from his touch and the excitement of what was to come. It was evident that Saeran was also starting to feel the heat of the moment as he began pulling at your bottom lip slightly with his teeth, earning soft moans from you.

You felt him raise his hands to your shoulders and gently push you down so that your back was flat upon the marble altar top. Suddenly thankful for your black robe conserving the slightest bit of warmth as the coldness of the stone hit your back.

Saeran was leaning over you. He was still standing between your legs as they dangled off the side, but he was entirely over your torso and chest, causing his blue sash to dangle off of his shoulders on either side of your head. His mouth was on yours once again and his hands were on your side, your own arms were around his neck, pulling him closer. Not close enough. You had waited so long to touch him again, you thought you had lost him forever. You lifted your legs, wrapping them around the back of his thighs, almost making him fall on top of you. A small shiver of excitement shot down your spine as you heard his breath catch in his throat at your legs wrapping around him and it definitely spurred him on.

He took two fingers and put them under your chin and slowly, oh so slowly, traced them in a continuous line down your chest, in between your breasts and all the way down your abdomen, stopping just above where the line of your underwear was. Since you’d pulled him towards you with your legs, you could now feel the rise of his erection brushing against the side of your exposed inner thigh. You gasped.

‘Are you scared?’ He asked.

‘It’s… my first time.’

‘It’s my job to bring you to salvation.’ He told you, yet it seemed to be that he was saying that last sentence to himself more than he was to you. It was as though he had recited it a hundred times in a mirror and it just fell from his mouth without any real conviction to it.

‘I trust you.’ It was true. You did trust Saeran, against what would probably be your better judgement.

‘A poor decision.’ He replied, running his other hand up your thigh. You had never known Saeran to be so physically bold, so it somewhat took you by surprise that he was so readily touching you like this. It was truly the last thing you expected this evening. ‘You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it.’

‘I… I do.’ Again, it was true. He took it as a sign to continue, but as he looked into your eyes, you knew he was looking back on his time with you as Ray and Saeran, and how the two of you could never return to that time again. There was a hint of emotion that you could not even begin to unravel the meaning behind. This was the best that he could give you in his life of a melancholic penance. Perhaps this was the punishment for his crime of daring to hope: his act of contrition.

His kisses began following the same single line that his two fingers had followed, all the way down your chest. You held your breath as he passed in between your breasts, moving down towards the end of your abdomen. You sighed as you felt his hands grip themselves onto your thighs, tightly. Your sigh told him to continue and his cold hands found their way underneath the hem of your black nightdress, slowly removing your underwear and letting them fall off onto the floor beneath you. Part of you just couldn’t believe it was happening, but all of you did not want it to stop now. The lips that stuttered over your first meeting were now kissing their way up your inner thigh, occasionally biting at the soft, bare skin.

Saeran pushed his hands up onto your hips, to steady himself as he moved closer to you, his thumbs slightly digging into your flesh. You closed your eyes as you felt his tongue make contact with you, thankful that the angle of you flat on your back meant that he couldn’t see the hard blush smothering your cheeks. His tongue was soft and light; exploring each part of you to find which spots made you moan the most and then paying extra attention to it.

‘Sa-Savior…’ Your breath choked in your throat as his tongue brushed against every intimate part of you. He was tentative, but purposeful. All you could manage in response to his mouth was a moan and a few crying mewls, silently begging him.

He licked and sucked at your folds until you were all but whimpering atop the altar. You were so willingly coming undone under his hands, laid bare and exposed before the eyes of God despite not having taken off any of your clothing; it wasn’t necessary for this act of sin. You were embarrassed to look, but when you glanced your eyes down at him his powerful gaze was holding your own, deciphering every reaction you made. The intensity in his cool eyes caused the knot that had been slowly forming in your stomach to begin tightening more and more. You shuddered involuntarily at the sight as you felt the heat rush to your cheeks and hoped that you could just pass it off as the warmth spewing from so many candles. He must have seen how embarrassed you were at being watched, so after a few more seconds he closed his eyes. Once closed, Saeran changed the direction of his tongue and you threw your head back and choked out a cry from somewhere deep inside of your throat at the sensation.

You weren’t sure if time was passing slowly or if you were just that lost in the feeling of his mouth on you, but you were so numb to everything that wasn’t Saeran in that moment. You didn’t even realise that your hands had found their way into his pale hair until you were almost gripping him.

You’d had orgasms before, with a clumsy stumbling of your own fingers, but the intensity you felt in your abdomen was building and building with each passing second, with each passing graze of his tongue. You tried to warn him that you thought you were about to cum, but you guessed that he could probably tell from the performance you were giving. Your legs were twitching around him as soft cries fell free from your mouth, and you almost even thanked God for the experience. And part of you thought that, maybe, you should have.

You could feel that you were right on the edge, desperate to fall off. Your hands moved from Saeran’s head down to his shoulders, where you gripped his white and blue robes with fervour and tried to tell him that you were cumming, but it happened too quickly for you to gather your thoughts in any degree. The pressure in you suddenly snapped and you cried out for your Savior, for Saeran. He continued to fuck you with his mouth through your orgasm, as you moaned and sighed and gasped out for him. It was as close to a biblical enlightenment that you thought you were ever going to get. He touched you right up until the point of overstimulation with his hands on your hips stopped you from squirming away from him.

After a short while, he took his mouth off of you and you immediately mourned for the lost contact but was somewhat thankful for the chance to catch your breath. Or so you thought.

‘Are you ready for me to continue?’ He asked, wiping the spit from his chin with a single swipe of his thumb. His eyes were burning with more emotion than you had seen in him in a long, long time. You swallowed, nodding. Despite the fact Saeran hadn’t been touching himself, you could see the outline of his erection pushing through the fabric of his robes.

Lying there on the altar surrounded by candlelight, waiting to be taken, you felt somewhat sacrificial. What you were sacrificing, you weren’t sure, but you’d offer it up to him in a heartbeat if only he’d ask. You watched through half-lidded eyes as Saeran used one hand to unzip the bottom half of his robe and trousers, and the other slowly insert two fingers into you. You stifled a small moan at the pleasant intrusion and then failed to stifle further moans as he began moving his fingers inside of you, pressing up against your sweet spot. It continued like that for a minute for so while he began to lightly touch himself with his free hand.

‘I’ll… take you to salvation. I’ll save you.’ He said, almost sadly. You didn’t have time to question that slight melancholic tone in his voice before he pulled his fingers out of you, pulling you by the hips right to the edge of the altar. Saeran lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in, watching for any discomfort on your face. Since he had already taken the time to relax and prepare you, there wasn’t any pain except for a slight burn as you adjusted to the size of him filling you.

He waited for you to sigh in approval before he started moving, taking his time in thrusting in and out of you, and then again and again. You covered your face in embarrassment, knowing that he was watching your reactions from where he was standing. He took your wrists, pulling them off your face and brought them down to where he was holding your hips so that you couldn’t hide your face from him. He wanted to see, he wanted to see it all.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to each thrust. You couldn’t believe that this was happening, and yet you had to. All of your senses were screaming that it was happening, and that it felt so good. Truly, you’d never be able to look at this Chapel the same way next time everyone was called to Sermon. You could hear Saeran’s sweet sighs filling the air. They were quiet and tentative, but most definitely present.

You arched your back as you dreamily opened your eyes, gazing up into the stained-glass window once again. The moonlight shone through the colourful glass, illuminating the rainbow of colours, and casting beautiful shades across Saeran’s face and robes. In a moment of lost bliss, your mind wandered to how beautiful Saeran looked painted in those colours, almost like he was a stained-glass portrait himself. Despite the myriad of shades tinting his skin, it never took away from the ice in his eyes. Saeran’s blue pierced through even a kaleidoscope of colour. You thought about uttering a prayer for him now, to thank someone, anyone, that he had returned to you: even in this manner. Before you managed to speak, Saeran’s words called your attention to him, the ghost of a sneer almost on his face. He could tell.

‘Were you about to pray for me? To pray for my damned soul?’ He asked while continuing to thrust into you at a godless speed. You struggled to speak for a few seconds, seeing as your body was so desperately calling all of your focus elsewhere. You didn’t even realise that you were staring into his face as he fucked you like this, waiting for your answer.

‘Do you wan-want me to?’ You tried to get the words out as he pounded into you again and again.

‘It’s too late… for that.’ He furrowed his brows, before picking up his speed once again, pulling you by the thighs to meet his thrusts. There was a slight amount of sweat beginning to glisten on his forehead and his panting was noticeably heavy as the tiredness was starting to creep up on him.

He shifted from his standing position to bending over you, so he could support himself on his forearms as he continued to bring you closer and closer to your apparent ‘Salvation’. You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him know how much you needed him right then and there.

Saeran’s face was only a few inches from your own, his warm breath falling over you in waves as he moved. It was at this distance that he averted his eyes from you, clearly feeling some degree of embarrassment or shame. He leant down, as though to kiss you, but then buried his face into the crook of your neck instead. You cradled one arm around his head and the other sprawled across his back, just to make sure he knew you were there, for any of him, and all of him.

You bit your lip to quieten the moans falling from your mouth because you felt guilty about moaning right into his ear. As soon as he realised what you were doing, he left the crook of your neck and began hovering over you again, purposely thrusting harder than he was before:

‘I want to hear. Nothing can be hidden from me in this place.’ The voice that came from him was quiet, yet possessive. Of course, you would oblige. Not that you really had a choice seeing as his rhythm was almost merciless.

Another orgasm was coming at you hard and fast, the pressure in your abdomen building to the point of pain. You cried out his name in a string of prayers as you begged for him to keep going, you were so close and was desperate to finish. The sadistic streak in Saeran thoroughly relished in the sight of you coming utterly undone beneath him, but he knew that his own body could not savour the thrill for much longer as he was nearing his own climax too. He hadn’t previously commented on how tight you were, but you being so close had gotten to the point of nearly suffocating him.

He leant down and captured your lips in another kiss, a needy and desperate one. There were so many words he could have used to describe the way he felt when he kissed you, and yet there were none at all. It was intoxicating for him to be flooded with not only his emotions, but the rushed emotions of both Ray and Saeran too.

To his surprise, the kiss was what you needed to finish. You felt yourself finish so suddenly that all you could do was cry out, your voice echoing throughout the Chapel. Any Believers outside would have heard it, even through the sounds of the pouring rain. You were absolutely numb to everything except for the feeling of your high and the continuous thrusting that was almost torturing you into hypersensitivity. It felt so fucking good, and you could have joked about seeing the Gates of Heaven if not for the fact that you were still being fucked through the orgasm.

Feeling you cum so violently immediately sent Saeran over the edge. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

‘F-fuck, I’m gonna-’ He started, his arms visibly shaking. He waited to see if you were going to loosen your grip on his waist to let him pull out, but when you didn’t, he took it as a sign to keep going freely. He bucked his hips against you, shaking the surrounding candles slightly, cursing as he also finished. He froze for a few seconds of his orgasm before slowly continuing to move, just to prolong his own high for that little bit longer. He was full of sweet sighs as his own peak came in waves, filling you completely.

He collapsed onto your chest while still inside you, and you tiredly wrapped your arms around him, pressing kisses into his pale hair. In the quiet night air, the only sounds were the rain hitting against the window and the breath shared between the both of you. His face felt very warm on your skin and you supposed it was due to the thickness of his Savior garments and the sheer physical exercise he had been doing. Your breathing started to mellow out and shortly Saeran pulled out of you, choosing to lay down on the altar besides you.

You silently shuffled closer to him, not quite finding the words to express how you feel about what just happened. Saeran didn’t seem to have much to say either, but you were well aware that the Saeran in front of you was not one for many words. Maybe he didn’t need words. He spent a lot of time in his own head that he was probably trying to rationalise and process what happened in his own time. You were a little anxious in the silence.

‘Do… you regret it?’ You asked nervously.

‘Do you?’ He countered in a sigh, his eyes closed as he faced upwards. You glanced up to look at him, watching as the shadows from the raindrops on the window reflected onto his face. A single shadowed tear rolled down the window, and it looked like he was crying a black tear, but it was only an illusion.

‘No. I don’t regret you. Any of you.’ You whispered, kissing the part of his shoulder that you were next to. Saeran always looked as though he was in pain, but in that moment he looked so peaceful. There were no furrowed brows, no frown lines or melancholic eyes, he looked his age. Right then, he didn’t have to be The Savior, he didn’t even have to be Saeran. You wanted to ask what to do next, since you were exhausted and feeling the need for a shower, but before you did Saeran said:

‘I will summon some Believers to walk you back to your room. It’s late. I’m going to remain here for a while longer.’

‘Ah okay… Can I ask a question?’ You leant up onto your side.

‘Go on.’

‘Who… gave me this?’ You tugged at the black chemise you had been given beforehand. Saeran opened his eyes slightly just to look at what you were referencing before saying:

‘Ray wanted to give you a gift. I thought you’d look best in black.’ He closed his eyes once more. You slid yourself off the altar, moving to press a kiss to his forehead.

‘Thank you. Goodnight, Saeran.’

‘For Paradise.’

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #saeran choi x reader #saeran choi #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger self insert #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger hc #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger headcanon #saeran ae #saviour saeran #savior saeran

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sidespart · 3 years

Text

The Fall of Romulus Part 5

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The first time Virgil had seen Patton, it had been on the battlefield. The larger man was on his knees, three men wearing the same uniform as Virgil strewn around him, fresh blood gushing from deep gouges on his face. He’d looked up at Virgil like he expected to die, his eyes bright with relief.

The first time Virgil had seen Logan, he’d barely been more than a kid. Even skinnier than he was now, drenched to the bone in his threadbare apprentice robes and shaking with rage. He’d thrust a handful of coins across the table at Virgil and Patton, newly minted heroes for hire, and demanded they kill his master.

The first time Virgil had seen Roman, he’d been singing to a horse.

It wasn’t even his horse.

Virgil had wanted a break from the noise of the tavern and the simmering tension between his companions. But standing in the dark in an unfamiliar town had been unappealing and so he’d ducked into the taverns small stables. The hayloft was more of a glorified shelf, set close to the ceiling, but standing amongst the horses meant potentially having to explain himself to the horses’ owners and so he’d clambered up and shimmied his way into the narrow space, ducking down out of sight.

He just wanted a few minutes peace. Long enough to figure out what to do.

Logan had accepted a job. Without consulting either Patton or Virgil. It was a simple enough assignment -to transport a crate full of merchandise to a town on the other side of the mountain pass. So why could the townsfolk not deal with that themselves? Because the pass was full of bandits. Obviously.

Logan said they needed the money and he wasn’t wrong. Patton said they needed a break and he wasn’t wrong either.

They had been travelling from one skinflint town to the next for what felt like an age…but half the reason travel was taking so long was that right now they didn’t have enough coin to even to rent horses. Which meant Patton was going to end up dragging the gods-forsaken chest the entire way. Which was going to aggravate the hip injury- which he still refused to acknowledge existed - and leave all of them vulnerable to attack, since Logan wasn’t winning any fights unless it was a debate and Virgil…Virgil did better with the element of surprise.

Looming out of the darkness, his eyes glowing purple and his crossbow held aloft – Virgil had watched many an enemy turn tail and run at the sight of him with great satisfaction.

Actually aiming that crossbow, in broad daylight, at attacking bandits and successfully hitting one? That seemed less likely to be satisfying for anyone. Except maybe the bandits.

So now there was a stalemate, both Patton and Logan bristling at each other over their meal. Both waiting for Virgil to be the tiebreaker.

Hence the hiding in a hayloft.

Maybe if Logan had just talked to the them instead of making decisions for everyone-

“Who’s the prettiest girl in this stable? Is it you? I think it is!”

Virgil froze.

“My lady fair is pale as night and strong as all the stars that bright th- hey!” holding his breath, Virgil slowly turned his head until he could see the man below, who was currently trying to tug his sleeve out of the mouth of a blond mare. It was the bard from the tavern. Even without hearing his voice, the bright white outfit and ridiculously flouncy red jacket gave him away.

Virgil frowned. It was still relatively early in the evening and the bard had had a good audience – even Patton and Logan had looked away form their argument to appreciate his tune. Why leave now?

“Okay, okay you don’t like the classics.” The bard was back to petting the mare’s nose, “but you’re still stunning despite your terrible taste. And a beautiful horse deserves the most handsome of riders hmm?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and relaxed back against the hay. The movements of over the top performers were none of his business.

“That you singing back there?”

Virgil tensed again.

Two men were blocking the exit. Both big, broad and wearing matching insincere grins.

The one who’d spoken had a knife in his hand. The bard apparently didn’t notice and stepped away from the horse with his arms spread wide.

Under the dim shaft of moonlight spilling from the stable door, the silky material of the bards jacket seemed to shine. It highlighted his pockets, where the thin material was sagging under the weight of his bulging coin pouch

“Always a pleasure to meet my fans!”

He gave them a cheeky bow, his pockets jingling as he moved.

Virgil resisted the urge to bang his head against the ceiling.

If this idiot wanted to get himself stabbed was it really Virgil’s responsibility to intervene? What would Logan call this – natural selection?

“Must’ve made a pretty penny.” It was the second man who spoke, he leaned carefully against the stable door as knife-guy stepped forward. “Nice voice like that.”

He looked pointedly at the bard’s jacket pocket. The bard took a half step back, almost disappearing from Virgil’s view.

“Your town is very generous.”

“Yeah. Good people” The second guy smiled. “Drop it.”

Virgil heard the bard sigh, deep and theatrical. But, much to Virgil’s relief, he threw the bag down on to the ground between them. Murder, Virgil was probably morally obligated to try to stop. But if the two robbers just took the bag and ran? Well. Patton was constantly asking Vigil and Logan to keep out of trouble so he could hardly disapprove.

Knife-guy grinned dumbly and reached down to his prize. Virgil tensed himself, he wasn’t going to be able to leap gracefully into action form his confined hiding place but he could potentially…roll onto the guy if he tried anything.

He didn’t get the chance.

As soon as the wannabe thief bent down the bard was on him. A blur of white and red shot out from beneath the hayloft, slammed the butt of a sword – had he always had a sword? – down on knife-guys skull sending him sprawling to the ground.

The second man let out a shout but before he had chance to take more than a step forward the bard was there, sword swinging though the air before coming to rest less than an inch from the man’s throat.

There was a pause whilst the man just gaped at the bard. Breathing heavily.

“You have a choice. Leave now, with your head still attached or…”

There was a yell and Virgil cursed himself for being distracted as knife-guy barrelled towards the pair, weapon raised high –

Only for it to instantly be knocked out his hand by the bard’s sword. The big man let out a high pitched yelp as blood spurted from where his fingers had been moments before, the knife clattering to the ground. The second man aimed a swing at the bards head but he dodged low, springing back up to deliver a punch of his own to the man’s throat, which left him gasping for breath.

At this point, knife guy clearly decided he’d had enough, running for the door with his bleeding hand clutched close to his chest. The second thief, seeing his backup flee, shot the bard a venomous glare and hurried after.

And then there was quiet.

“Sorry about that.” Virgil startled – was he talking to him? “My precious babies.” No. The bard was heading back towards the horses, who had been remarkably unconcerned throughout his ordeal. This gave Virgil his first proper look at his face.

He looked young. Not much older than Logan. And tired.

“Did those mean old robbers scare you?” he cooed “Not to worry – your hero is here to save the day!”

With the bard facing the horses, Virgil took the opportunity to squirm out of his hiding place, managing to land lightly enough on the stable floor behind him.

“Hey.” He said.

The hero’s shriek of surprise was so loud that the horses reared up in their stalls.

After hasty explanations, Virgil had hired him as extra muscle for their trip. It’s wasn’t t an ideal solution, but the knowledge that there would be extra protection around for Logan and Virgil eased some of Patton’s tension. And since Sir Sing-A-Lot had pissed off two would be thieves who were presumably still in town somewhere, he was willing to leave quickly and for cheap which suited Logan.

He met them the next day about a quarter mile out of town, performance outfit replaced with something moderately more travel worthy and sword strapped to his side. Virgil had suggested he stay the night at the tavern but he had shaken his head. Said if he went back in there the bartender would insist he stay to play another night – and then he’d have to let him down, which would be far too painful to bare.

Virgil privately thought skipping out halfway through the night was probably letting him down worse, but whatever. One mans loss is another man’s gain.

It was only when he’s was making the introductions that he realised Roman hadn’t brought his horse. Which led quickly to the realisation that there were three would be thieves in the stable that night.

Virgil spent most of the first day with his eyes fixed on Roman, waiting for him to betray them and skip off with the loot himself. But as the hours past and the bard did nothing suspicious he slowly started to relax.

It was only going to be three days.

***

Three years later, Virgil was growling to himself in his mother’s language as he swept his eyes across the room again, finding absolutely nothing. Not that he expected to -the small room wasn’t exactly flush with hiding places. All he had managed to unearth in the first frantic search was one of Roman’s notebooks, tossed under the bed with its leafy bookmark a few inches away. Patton had carefully put both away in his own coat pocket, a look of abject misery on his face as his hands ghosted over Romans drawings.

The thing was. It wasn’t like adding Roman to the group had instantly fixed everything.

But-

But Patton got sad sometimes. And Virgil, he’d been through a lot of the same stuff as the big guy but he didn’t know how to reach him when he got like that. Virgil was pretty sure he actually made things worse. But Roman – Roman distracted Patton without even trying half the time. He’d sing, weave a story out of nothing, disappear down a side street and reappear with a gaggle of kids and two puppies he seemingly conjured out of nowhere. The two of them had the same bright energy and when they got together they laughed loud enough to banish any shadow.

And Logan – Logan had this need to prove himself. All the time. He needed a challenge to throw himself against or he wilted. Patton hated arguing and Virgil frankly didn’t have the energy but Roman? Roman loved it. The two debated everything, from poetry to politics and threw themselves into preparation with more gusto than seemed healthy. The first big blow up they had, Virgil had looked over at Patton, panicked, before realising both men were grinning ear to ear. Relishing the debate in a way that Virgil didn’t really understand.

And as for Virgil himself…well actually he had always been perfectly fine and Roman basically drove him crazy.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, the four of them worked better as a four. They balanced each other out. Even if they sometimes went too far and hurt each others feelings, they always apologised and moved on. And even if having four meant that their could never be a tiebreaker and every decision had to be discussed around and around until someone gave in…that was just what family was like.

And now Roman was just going to walk away from them? Without even saying goodbye?

Unacceptable.

“This is all my fault.” Patton wailed for third time. “I never should have left him alone.”

And on top of everything he’d upset Patton? Virgil was going to find their wayward bard and bring him home. And then kill him.

“Tell us what he said again.” Logan demanded imperiously, notebook and pen at the ready as he stared Patton down.

Virgil sighed and answered for him:

“He told him he wanted to leave the city. And now he’s left the city.”

Logan frowned. “The city gates are closed at sunset – unless he had a royal decree he would have been unable to leave last night.”

Virgil grit his teeth, “Okay, so, assuming he didn’t know that – because none of the rest of us knew that – he left the inn to try to leave the city.”

“So then why leave the inn at all?” Logan continued, pacing up and down the limited floor space and utterly ignoring Virgil “Why not just wait till morning? It makes no sense unless.” He paused at the window. “Unless he was taken against his will.”

Patton and Virgil exchange wide eyed looks. Virgil was normally the one jumping to worst case scenarios, not Logan. “You, uhh, you got any evidence for that one Lo?”

“He left his sword.” Logan pointed. “Amongst almost all his other possessions – he told Patton he wasn’t safe and then he leaves without taking a weapon? It’s illogical.”

“I’m not sure he was thinking logically.” Patton said softly, looking at Romans neatly piled possessions. “You didn’t hear him guys he – he sounded so scared.”

Virgil flinched. Fingers flexing uselessly. “Okay. Okay so. What spooked him? Something in the forest?” He asked, thinking guilty of Romans thorn scratched hands after he’d got himself lost trying to escape Virgil foul mood. “He was totally spaced out last night.”

“He seemed fine this morning.” Patton said with a frown “Logan?”

“He was fine before we saw The Crone.” Logan murmured, “he was, if anything, too effervescent. But when we left he seemed…” he trailed off, adjusting his glasses before glaring defensively at both of them “he didn’t say anything so I can’t be sure – but, he was very quiet. The Crone was northern so I thought perhaps homesickness? But I don’t believe he was scared. Not until the episode.”

Virgil nodded, Logan had already described the episode – Romans sudden sprint through the city street and subsequent panic attack – in detail, although he’d been unable to pin point what had set him off.

“Um I’m sorry …The Crone?” Patton looked horrified, “Logan, do you mean our customer?”

“I. Uhm.” Despite everything Virgil couldn’t help but grin the flush of embarrassment that quickly took over Logan’s face. “She was from the North” Logan told them with great dignity, “Roman has told us many time that it is considered rude to ask a strangers name on first meeting.”

“But, did you…know she was form the North? Before you started calling her crone?” Virgil couldn’t resist teasing.

“Logan that is so rude!” Patton said, giving his best disappointed dad eyes.

“SO rude.” Roman ginned “honestly Patton – Virgil - this kind of behaviour reflects poorly on you as parents. I personally think you should send him to bed without supper.”

And Patton laughed, a secretly pleased smile at being compared to a parent and Virgil rolled his eyes and shrugged Romans hand off his shoulder and Logan let out an offended humph before reminding Roman, again, that he was only a few years older than him and if he was a child Roman was too and a brat besides – an old and well-worn argument that made all of them laugh, tension broken.

Except it wasn’t. Because Roman wasn’t there.

Instead Patton’s exaggerated disappointment mellowed into real sadness as he glanced around the room again and Logan hunched his shoulders, burying his face in his notebook. Silence filled the room.

“I’m going to uh, look outside again.” Virgil jerked his thumb awkwardly to the door and set off without waiting for a response.

Definitely kill him, Virgil thought. Once they were sure he was okay.

Apart from his unusual eye colour, pointed ears and a youthful complexion well into his thirties, Virgil had inherited very little from his mothers people. But his night vision was undeniably better than his fully human companions.

Not that it was doing him much good right now. Didn’t matter how good your eye sight was if there was nothing to see.

It was easy enough to track Roman from the open window, down the wall of torn climbing plants to the ground, but after that the trail immediately went cold. If this was a small town with a dirt road there would at least be footprints, but on the cobblestone streets of the well-to-do there was nothing to follow.

He could be anywhere.

Virgil kicked a pebble with a snarl, sending it clattering across the square. Reluctantly he started to prepare himself for the long climb back up to their room, when he was distracted by a faint whinnying.

The tavern connected to stables.

Huh.

Well….he knew Roman had been prepared to steal a horse before…

Quietly, Virgil slipped around the corner and into the stables. This was a far cry from the glorified shack where he had first met Roman. The ‘stables’ was more of a courtyard, with various coaches and waggons parked in the centre, and an enormous number of stalls ringing the outside. Virgil guessed it was shared between the tavern and the several other buildings that bordered the square.

His heart began to race.

He hadn’t really expected to see much – how would he know, after all, if a horse was missing? But with this much money in one place, there had to be a guard. Someone who might have seen Roman pass through.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his expectations low, and began to search.

“Virgil. Did you kidnap a child?!”

Virgil winced. The force of Patton’s disappointed dad glare was a lot less funny when it was directed at him. “I mean,” he tried “is it kidnapping? She lives here! It’s not that bad!”

“I would say it’s significantly worse that calling a woman a crone in the privacy of your own head.” Logan muttered under his breath. Virgil glared at him.

“And I don’t live here,” the girl offered brightly “I just work in the stables.”

They were in the inn’s kitchen. Somewhere that they were absolutely not allowed to be. But between cancelling the promised performance, negotiating a week’s stay in an already overbooked establishment and then almost immediately afterwards cancelling that too and the panicked interrogation of the few remaining customers when they’d first discovered Roman missing; Virgil didn’t think the inn’s landlord could really get more irritated with them.

Although the whole kidnapping thing was probably not going to help.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Patton said, pushing a mug of sweet tea towards the girl and taking a seat next to her. He did not offer Virgil or Logan a cup.

“Thanks Mister Pat!” She smiled sweetly up at Patton before turning away from him and sticking her tongue out at Virgil. Virgil gestured wildly between the girl and himself but Patton just sipped his own drink, nose in the air.

Virgil slumped in his chair, glowering.

He’d found her sleeping in one of the empty stable stalls. The space was clearly being used as a hut for the stable boy – or in this case girl – with a small wooden bed pushed against the back wall and a desk covered in half cleaned riding gear near the entrance.

Elated to have found a possible lead he had rushed towards the bed and shaken the occupant awake immediately. And released in one horrifying instant that he was a fully grown man shaking a literal child who probably couldn’t even see him in the darkness.

She yelled.

He yelled.

She threw a horseshoe at his head.

He had managed to bundle her half way back to the inn - one hand clamped over her mouth despite the fact that she was biting him - before Patton appeared, ripping them apart with a growl and then blinking a Virgil in complete confusion when he realised who the would be kidnapper was.

“I – we – just want to ask you some questions.” Virgil said in his calmest I-am-not-deranged-I-have-just-had-a-very-long-day voice “Okay, um, sweetheart?”

All three of them stared at him.

“’Sweetheart’ sounds odd when you say it.”

“I know it does Lo’.”

“It might be the tone of voice.”

“I know it is, Lo’.”

“I’m Lucy.” Said the girl. Lucy sat back in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth. “Are you gonna’ pay me? The last guy gave me five gold pieces.” she grinned at them expectantly.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay well, that’s ridiculous.”

“We don’t have much money.” Patton told her, “but I can make you another tea?” She considered him for a minute but was clearly already besotted with her ‘rescuer’, so she just smiled and held out her mug.

“Now,” Patton asked gently as he poured a refill. “What guy is this? And…what did he ask you to do for that kind of money?”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Just some rich guy. He wanted to know how many people had come in today, and then for me to let him hang around in my hut until his friend got there.”

“So you left your post?” Logan said disapprovingly. “What time did he arrive? What did he do? What friend was he meeting?”

“He paid me five gold pieces so he could sit in a shed” she told him. “If the guy wanted a horse he could have just bought one. And I just went and sat on the roof anyway, the market was way too busy.”

“Smart.” Virgil said. She glared at him, just long enough to let him know that his approval meant nothing, before continuing.

“He came just after four o’clock, that’s when Tommy goes home and I take over. And he didn’t do anything. Just sat there all grouchy. Then he left with the pretty guy.”

“Pretty?” Logan asked sharply, making Lucy giggle.

“Yeaaaah he had pretty eyes and a lute and really cute short hair. He was way better looking than the rich guy. I think he was a musician.” She sighed.

The three men glanced at each other, excitement building.

“Was he being taken by force?” Logan asked, steepling his hands “Could you see any sign of a struggle? Was he restrained in some way?”

“Logan don’t scare the kid for fucks sake.”

“Oh sorry, the one you kidnapped?”

“Guys.” Patton’s glare quelled them both into silence. Lucy took a long sip of tea, thinking before answering.

“He just walked up to him and they left together right away. I couldn’t hear nothin' but, they didn’t have time to say more than hello before they left.”

“So much for that theory.” Virgil muttered, disappointment settling in his chest. Not that he wanted Logan to be right, that Roman had been taken away by force but- this meant he really had just decided to leave them.

Logan wasn’t convinced. “A physical struggle is not necessarily required to move someone against their will – he could have been coerced.”

“How coercive can you be in one sentence??”

“If he was lying in wait and recognised him instantly the obviously we can assume they knew each other.” Logan told him snottily “Groundwork could have been laid beforehand.”

Virgil frowned, he hadn’t thought of that. But Roman hadn’t arrived until well past four – how had the mystery man known to come to this particular inn?

“Can you tell us anything about the first man?” Patton asked Lucy, “What he looked like or – ooh how about you draw a picture of him!” he produced Romans notebook from his pocket and opened it too a blank page.

“He was just some old rich guy,” she insisted “he was wearing one of those fancy patchwork coats. Pink and blue, and he had dark hair…” she shrugged. ”I don’t remember anything else, sorry Mister Pat.”

“What about an emblem?” Logan asked.

“What’s that?”

“A symbol of his house. Lots of rich people have them, maybe on a bit of jewellery or embroidered on his clothing?”

“He had a cape clasp with a pattern on it.” She said doubtfully, “it wasn’t fancy though just- here – “ she took the note book from Patton and hastily scribbled three interlocking Vs, the largest in the centre.

“We can go to the library and look for it when they open.” Logan told them brightly “If it’s one of the noble houses in the city we should be able to find an address.”

“And we can go see the cro – the customer too” Patton added putting a hand on the scholars shoulder, “Logan says Roman seemed down after they left- she might know something.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently.

“One of us should go to the city gates before they open,” Logan continued, “If he still intends to leave the city we can watch for him there.”

Virgil thought of the hordes of people making their way through the city gates. Spotting one man in amongst that throng was going to be near impossible. And even if they found a symbol that matched the child’s drawing, there was no guarantee they would be able to track down the owner. And from Logan's description, Roman hadn’t left his sight whilst they were at The Crones house, what could she possibly tell them that they didn’t already know?

And even if they found him. What good was that, if he truly wanted to leave? It’s not like they could order him to stay.

He felt one large, warm hand land on his shoulder and squeeze gently. “We’ll find him.” Patton told him reassuringly. At the table, Logan was scribbling in his note book again, eyes bright with excitement as he continued the barrage of questions at an amused looking Lucy.

Virgil nodded, and did his best to smile back.

It had been a long week on top of a long month of traveling, and none of their leads were things they could follow right now. They needed to sleep. Get enough rest for a full day of bard hunting in the morning.

And then, well.

If Roman wanted to leave he could leave.

But he was going to damm well explain himself to his family first.

Virgil glanced at Lucy who was watching them with open curiosity.

“I don’t suppose we could convince you not to mention the whole…kidnapping thing to the land lord right?”

She smiled at him. “That’s gonna cost you more than tea.”

Vigil sighed.

chapter 6

#TS: Fall of Romulus #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #what is writing virgils POV?#is it just a thounsad rehtorical questions?#maybe?#sidespart writes

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goodfish-bowl · 3 years

Link

@floralflowerpower here’s the fic you asked for, took me a bit but I think it turned out pretty well!

based on this post and this headcanon

Summary: Danny had to admit, he’d never thought something like this would happen. Usually, the roles were reversed, and he’d be the one bursting in through warehouse doors, guns blazing, ready to kick some ghost butt. Never thought he’d be the one dangling precariously close to a large vat of somewhat familiar bubbling ectoplasm, while the stereotypical villain paced near the lever that would drop him to his doom. That made him the damsel in distress, a concerning idea.

Words: 3530

Danny had to admit, he’d never thought something like this would happen. Usually, the roles were reversed, and he’d be the one bursting in through warehouse doors, guns blazing, ready to kick some ghost butt. Never thought he’d be the one dangling precariously close to a large vat of somewhat familiar bubbling ectoplasm, while the stereotypical villain paced near the lever that would drop him to his doom. That made him the damsel in distress, a concerning idea.

Normally, this wouldn’t be concerning, but he couldn’t phase through the chain that was wrapped around him enough times he resembled a cocoon rather than a hostage. It must’ve come from the Ghost Zone, with the light glow emitting from the mental links and the lack of burning pain associated with anti-ghost coatings and ectoranium. At least he bought local. He liked the energy coming off of the surprisingly large container of ectoplasm, radiating a glow and mist that bathed everything he saw in green, even less than the idea of being chained upside-down over said vat. He didn’t want to find out why.

Who was this loser anyway? The ghost lawyer? He’d never seen, heard, nor smelled this ghost in his entire half-life. His navy suit contrasted awfully with his green skin, violet eyes, and mint-green hair, and those red shoes definitely didn’t match any of it. What a lame villain, couldn’t even dress himself properly.

“Hey! Looser!” Danny called out, and the lawyer ghost perked up.

“Splendid! You’re awake! It would’ve been anticlimactic if you stayed unconscious,” the ghost remarked.

“Should’ve stayed unconscious, it would’ve kept me from having to witness your crime against fashion. Who are you and how’d I get here? Last I checked you didn’t ask me if I wanted to hang out?” Danny quipped.

“I am Wright, a ghost of due process and order, and your darling Valerie Gray has thwarted me for the last time! I boyfriend-napped you to draw her here! Your doom will serve as her punishment,” Wright exclaimed, like a looser.

Danny just stared at the ghost for a minute as his head attempted to wrap around what was going on, and hanging upside down, wrapped in chains, didn’t help.

“’Boyfriend-napped? Seriously? That’s not even a word, and Val and I stopped dating, like, a year ago!” Danny pointed out.

“Irrelevant,” Wright huffed, ”You still hold her affections, and your death will cause her the same grief she caused me.”

Danny scoffed, “What’d she do to you anyways? She shoots at all the ghosts, you’re not special.”

“I wasn’t aware that you knew about her… nightly activities,” Wright stated, and Danny gave him a look.

“Ok, let me get this straight, who am I to you?” Danny asked, confused. Most ghosts were aware that Valerie was the Red Huntress, and Wright had yet to make a remark about having “captured Phantom”.

“Daniel Fenton, the son of the infamous ghosthunters Madeline and Jack Fenton of Amity Park, and the former sweetheart of Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress,” Wright announced.

“Right, ok. What do you know about Phantom?”

“I hold great admiration for the protector of Amity Park! He goes through the process of capturing ghosts with efficiency and never acts without just cause! He’s a powerful ghost worthy of the titles bestowed upon him! He valiantly defends both his haunt and the people who live there, both human and ghost! Truly a pillar of order and process!” Wright gushed and Danny fought the urge to roll his eyes, ”What does this have to do with you, however?”

Danny frowned, fighting off the reflex to claim Amity wasn’t his haunt, but his home. The praise was appreciated, but he really didn’t understand why this ghost held him so high. He was more surprised by the fact that this ghost didn’t know that Phantom and Fenton were the same damn person and that he had just kidnapped someone he held in such high regard.

“What do you mean by ‘order and process’?” Danny asked, just to get a proper definition as to what this poorly dressed lawyer was on.

“He properly maintains a level of organization and protection in Amity Park, protecting the order and in every single fight plays out how it’s supposed to be. A trespasser with malicious intentions shows up, Phantom arrives shortly, they banter and fight, Phantom emerges victorious, and the trespasser is removed from the premises, thus process. Does that make sense to your feeble human mind?” Wright chastised, explaining himself carefully.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Well, aren’t you a ghost ‘trespassing’ in Amity Park? Doesn’t that mean Phantom will he show up to save m, tossing you back into the Zone?” Danny bluffed.

“But we’re not in Amity Park, I may have boyfriend-napped–“

“Please never say that word again.”

“-you from there, but that’s not where we currently are. Red Huntress operates out of Elmertown, and I would never infringe upon Phantom’s haunt!”

Huh, Danny supposed that made sense to a point, he never really dealt with ghosts in Elmertown, since they were usually just low-level specters that usually didn’t mean any harm. If Val was operating out of here, then it made sense that there would be so few ghosts, and also that the ghosts that were afraid or ‘admired’ him like Wright would stick to Elmertown rather than Amity.

“And Val doesn’t follow your version of ‘order and process’?”

“NO! She shows up, never lets me get through my proper monologue or cause the necessary level of chaos, and then threatens my afterlife, completely uncivilized! What an improper lady! Always shooting first, never asking questions!” Wright exasperated.

“Sorry, but that’s Val’s order and process. Guns blazing and ready to kick some ghost butt.”

Valerie burst in through the doors, with perfect theatric timing, her ecto-rifle poised and aimed at Wright.

“Danny!” she exclaimed, immediately focusing on him before shifting her rage towards the ghost in the room.

Oh boy, did she look pissed. Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever pushed her to the point Wright currently had. Her suit blazed with scarlet energy, read to fire at the drop of a hat, bright enough Danny could see it over the green haze of the pool of ectoplasm beneath him.

“Finally! It took you long enough. I left a note and everything,” Wright complained, unmoved by her anger.

“Let Danny go, or I blast a hole straight through you this time, Wright,” Valerie snarled.

Wright sneered, ”You shoot me, and I drop the boy-toy into a vat of concentrated ectoplasm. There’s not even enough distance for you to swoop in and save him before he’s at least partially submerged.”

Valerie looked over to Danny, and he almost smiled in greeting, but he managed to stop himself as a particular detail resurfaced. Fenton didn’t know Valerie was the Red Huntress, that was knowledge only Phantom was privy to. Damn it. Valerie’s eyes were wide in fear under her visor, and her grip tightened on her rifle considerably. Danny couldn’t make a joke or anything, and he was forced to fill his expression with unfamiliarity and panic, like a proper actor. He met her eyes anyways, cool and calm, before gritting his teeth. He trusted Valerie, she would save him, but he also knew her well enough to know she hated playing along. Valerie hadn’t realized that the Red Huntress wasn’t supposed to know Danny Fenton either, so perhaps it evened out in its own way.

“Dragging a bystander into a personal fight is just like a ghost,” she spat the word, “What is it you want?”

Wright began with a flourish of his arms, “For everything to play out in the proper order of course! For an order to be restored to your haphazard violence! We are going to go through all of the proper motions of this encounter and the winner will always be the hero! We just have to figure out who’s who.”

“I’m not letting you monologue while Da-… while an innocent is hanging over… whatever that is!” Valerie protested.

“I never expected such an aggressive and weak-minded being such as you to understand the importance of doing things the right way! That’s why I needed a hostage.” Wright huffed. “Also, It’s concentrated ectoplasm. like the name implies its densely packed ectoplasm, a powerful source of energy for both ghosts and most of your human anti-ghost technology, but burns through humans faster than hydrochloric acid,” Wright explained, and Danny couldn’t help but pale in response.

Oh… that was bad, and no wonder he recognized it, he’d seen it in small amounts around the lab. Danny also didn’t want to see how he, a half-ghost currently human, would react to it. Valerie also apparently didn’t want to find out, more than she wanted to blast a hole through Wright apparently. Her shoulders began trembling and she grit her teeth, glancing rapidly between where Danny was dangling and where Wright waited patiently for her to make her decision. Danny took a deep breath and called out to her, snapping her out of her internal conflict.

“Don’t worry about me, Red Huntress! I’ll just hang out right here! I’m not going anywhere!”

Valerie sent Danny a look, exasperated and melancholic, most likely due to the pun, before setting her gaze on Wright, who had a large grin on his face displaying way too many teeth.

“Fine,” she spat, “let’s get this over with.”

“Wonderful!” Wright clapped his hands, “As you can see, Red Huntress, I have captured Danny Fenton! And unless you defeat me in the next three minutes, he will get dropped to his doom!”

“Wait, there’s a timer?” Danny asked, and Wright ignored his interruption, hitting a button next to the lever, probably starting the timer.

“Now meet your maker, Red Huntress!”

Wright vaulted over the bars of the platform he was standing on, directly at Valerie. She met him halfway with a crimson blast, energy meeting the sole of his atrocious red shoes in a form of deflection, launching him into the air where he remained suspended. He launched several violet ectoblasts while Valerie charged up her gun again, taking to the air as her hoverboard formed beneath her feet. They began a combination of hand-to-hand strikes and blasts midair, often speeding out of Danny’s view as he craned his neck to witness the fight. There was too much blood in his head for him to focus properly, but there was something off about the way Wright fought.

One, two, three, five ecto blasts, then he switched to close combat, striking 7 times with his fists and ending in a kick to gain some distance before firing ectoblasts again. It was in order…

“Red! He’s fighting in a pattern! Five blasts, seven punches, one kick!” Danny called out.

They careened back in front of him, and Val nodded in confirmation. Wright ended with a kick and floated back into the air.

“I’ve seen you figured me out! But it will not allow you to defeat me!”

Wright fired off his blasts, and Valerie easily countered them, now knowing what to expect. Wright came in close again, attempting to rush her. His fist connected to her forearms 6 times, each blocked easily and efficiently by Valerie’s suit, doing practically no damage. She had positioned herself right near the chain that held Danny above ‘his doom’. Wright had one more hit left, but rather than take it he backed off, just as the timer beeped.

“It seems it’s time for us to end this charade, Red Huntress.” Wright declared and broke the pattern early and fired a clean and precise ectoblast behind Valerie.

The chain went slack, and Danny plummeted. Valerie grasped it in desperation shouting something he couldn’t hear, but it was too late, the upper half of his body dunked below the surface.

It was like getting dunked into freezing water, at least before he became immune to the cold. It sent shivers and rose goosebumps along every single point of contact, he saw nothing but green. It felt like the submerged half of his body had fallen asleep, pins and needles piercing his skin, but never actually hurting him. Danny thrashed despite this, desperate to get out the concoction meant to kill him, not realizing he wasn’t in pain as panic swept away any other rational thought.

(page break)

“Danny!” Valerie shouted, grasping desperately for the chain.

It skid in her grip, a yard too late and Danny slipped halfway below the surface. His whole body thrashed sending ripples across the surface but making no sound. She screamed, her voice filling the empty void of Danny’s soundlessness. It was already too late, some part of her mind spoke, but she refused to acknowledge it. As fast she physically could, she tied the chain to the closest bar and launched herself on her hoverboard. She snapped the chain Danny was hanging from with ease and a grief-filled ectoblast, and took Danny down to the ground, careful not to touch the green sludge the covered the upper half of his torso.

Valerie’s hoverboard collapsed back into her suit, and then they met eyes, something that her mind could barely register. Even more than that, she wasn’t looking at the face that had plummeted into the vat. Phantom’s eyes stared back wide, bright green and covered in ectoplasm, stared back on her, while the bottom half remained clothed in jeans and battered red converse. Her mind short-circuited, and she was pretty sure her suit as well from the beating it had just taken.

Danny… Phantom… whoever the hell she was staring at seemed to finally realize that he was out, let out a cough, rolling over onto his stomach to purge the concentrated ectoplasm from his lung, and heaved a deep breath of air he couldn’t possibly need once they were clear. He rolled back over and sat up, shifting in the chains, trying to get out of them.

Valerie saw red, and snatched the chains, pulling Phantom’s face close to hers, a snarl on her face. Phantom’s eyes widened and he yelped at the sudden tug.

“Is this what you do?! You teamed up with Wright of all ghosts to get to me?!” Valerie cried.

Phantom’s eyes widened, confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I was kidnapped!” He yelped.

“Don’t lie to me Phantom!”

Phantom froze, looking like a dear caught in headlights. He frantically tried to glance himself over, writhing in place, still unable to move his arms since he was still chained up. Valerie had no intention of unchaining him now. He caught sight of his jumpsuit and shook some of his soaked hair into his face, catching its color.

“Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘Oh’?!”

“Just learned what happens when I get drenched in concentrated ectoplasm.” His tone was even and quiet and only served to infuriate her further.

“Answer me, Phantom!”

“I didn’t lie!” He shouted right back, “He really did kidnap me!”

“Then where is Danny?! He’s still missing. Does Wright still have him?” She demanded.

Phantom shifted around in the chains again, and Valerie unceremoniously dropped him to the floor. He grunted by was focused on the chains now. Phantom’s eyes flared ice blue, overtaking their normal toxic green, and the chains froze solid. With enough strain, the metal links shattered and clattered uselessly to the floor. He stretched his arms and glanced them over.

There was a line, clear and definable, where the ectoplasm hadn’t touched him. Under the green substance, was Phantom, jumpsuit and all, but Valerie was fixated on the borderline, as was Phantom, where the jumpsuit transitioned into Danny’s iconic red and white shirt. There were no gloves on his hands, and the jumpsuit ceased existing halfway down his arms, and the skin underneath the goo was the same color as Phantom’s face, but the dry areas were the same pale as Danny’s skin.

“I’m right here, Valerie,” Phantom said, looking straight through her.

Valerie scoffed, “I see you here, Phantom, but where’s Danny Fenton?”

“I’m Danny Fenton.”

Of all the things Phantom could’ve said, that wasn’t the answer she wanted. For the second time that night, her mind reeled to a halt.

"You can’t be Danny, you’re a ghost,” Valerie justified.

“And people can die? I just happen to be caught in the middle.” Phantom said, making no sense.

“You died? Danny’s dead?” Her voice came out quietly, almost a whimper.

“I’m more like half-dead.” He had the nerve to laugh. “A bit of both ghost and human mixed together, I can be either-or.”

“What was the name of the flour baby we raised together?” She pressed, looking for a piece of information Danny would know, but Phantom shouldn’t.

“We… we didn’t name it, did we? I’m pretty sure that wasn’t one of the requirements Mr. Lancer gave us.” Phantom responded with a weak chuckle.

Valerie looked at him, really looked at him. Phantom and Fenton didn’t really look that different, in fact, they were surprisingly similar to the point it was eerie. He had always looked freakily familiar, and now she knew why. They had the same facial structure, hairstyle, and even the awful senses of humor lined up. The only difference was that Phantom was a ghost, and Danny was human.

“How can you be half-dead?” Valerie asked.

“Turns out the portal is really dark on the inside, that is until you turn it on from the inside.”

It took Valerie a minute, but then she understood. She fully understood. Her helmet and visor retracted, revealing her watering eyes. Danny was Phantom, and Phantom was Danny. He wasn’t being overshadowed, overshadowing didn’t look like this, not half-covered in ectoplasm like he was. Danny didn’t make eye contact, choosing instead to collect a bit of it onto his finger, watching intently as his skin sizzled, glowing white and the edges and spreading like a chemical reaction until it reached the edge of the ectoplasm. The skin became discolored, and a bit of white-silver glove appeared, manifesting all on its own underneath the goop. Then he had the nerve to lick it off.

Valerie scrunched up her face in disgust while Phantom seemed to contemplate the taste, still focusing on his finger. The darker skin tone and glove seemed to dissolve away on their own back into pale skin once the ectoplasm was gone. Danny really was Phantom.

Valerie threw herself onto the ground and punched him as hard as she could in her given state, her suit protecting her from the concentrated ectoplasm on his body that could possibly burn her if Wright was to be trusted.

“Ouch!” Danny complained, rubbing his arm where she’d hit, the ectoplasm spreading to his hand forming the glove again.

“I dated you!” Valerie protested, “I dated you, and then broke up with you!”

Danny’s gaze shifted around, confused and sheepish. “Y-yeah?”

“I broke up with you to focus on hunting you!”

“Yeah?”

“And you knew this entire damn time!”

“Uhhhhhh… yeah.” He admitted, looking down awkwardly and attempting to wipe his hand off on his jeans, but only succeeded in spreading the ectoplasm around. The patch of denim transformed into black rubber.

“You ruined my life!”

“I’ve told you a thousand times! It was an accident!” Danny protested, wiping his hand on the ground again in an attempt to get more off but finally looking back up at her.

Valerie stared at him for a moment, before devolving into a fit of giggles, getting to her feet from where she had seated herself on the floor. Danny looked up at her, even more confused than before.

“You really need to wash that stuff off, or are you going to lick yourself clean?” Valerie teased.

Danny huffed indignantly, climbed to his own feet, and a white ring blossomed around his waist. Valerie watched in awe as what parts were still Fenton transformed into equally an equally familiar jumpsuit and set of silver boots. The ectoplasm that still coated him slowly vanished, absorbed into his ghostly form. The ghostly halo around him grew in intensity, glowing brighter than before. His feet lifted from the floor and he began to float, eyes also growing in intensity. Danny gave a large smile, literally beaming bright enough to light up a good portion of the warehouse all on his own.

“Thanks, Val,” Danny said.

“For what exactly?” she asked.

“Well, you didn’t shoot me when I told you I was Danny Fenton, you saved me from witnessing Wright's awful sense of fashion any longer, and finally for Elmertown,” Danny counted off on his fingers.

"Elmertown?”

Danny put his hands on his hips matter-of-factly, ”Even if I don’t agree with your methods, you’ve been protecting Elmertown from ghosts. So, thank you,” Danny confessed.

He landed on the ground in front of her, boots barely making as sound and bright enough she was nearly blinded by it. He gave her a large, goofy smile, one that she was much more used to seeing on Fenton’s face than Phantom’s, but it only reinforced the idea that they were the same person.

Valerie smiled right back.

#Danny Phantom #fanfic #ao3 #some grayghost #its light though #goodfish writes #dp headcanons #floral's fault #its cute though #I like writing ridiculous characters light Wright #post was broken had to fix it

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gabriel4sam · 3 years

Text

Not love at first sight (But love at the sixty-third life defying idiocy), a CodyWan story

Written for @swbigbang, with the help of @kitcatkim in the role of the patient beta and @outernorth for artist (art just there)

Because all the other members of their small outpost were not in shape (read, hungover), Cody and Obi-Wan go on a small, simple, totally not possibilities of explosions supply run.

Cody comes back with a headache the size of Coruscant, a new hate of insectoids life. And a brand new significant other, in the shape of his exasperating General

It’s not a hangover, it’s a hecatomb. Whatever Boil had put in his new still was a terrible, terrible idea. The entire Separatist Council could do pointes in tutus on the flight deck and the vode would neither see it, nor care about it.

Cody and Obi-Wan were the only ones not drinking the day before, them and the communication officers on duty. The communication officers because they were working, and Cody and Obi-Wan, well, because they like the occasion for the men to feel free, and they can’t with their superior officers in their company.

That doesn’t mean the men are supposed to feel free enough to incapacitate the whole bunch of idiots they are apparently in charge off.

“Latrine duties, the first time we do planet fall. The whole of them.” Cody grumbles, assessing the damage with a cold, clinical eye.

“How does that even work? Does every man have latrine duties for his own latrines? Do you make them install as many latrines as they are? ” Obi-Wan remarks. He’s the usual calm and composed Jedi Master Cody knows on the outside, but the Commander is pretty sure he’s laughing on the inside. Cody had met Quinlan Vos, ok? And he poured enough hard liquor in the man to obtain confidences. Confidences which horrified him, Obi-Wan had even less survival instincts than Cody thought, but confidences he can’t un-hear. He will know forever!

Or at least, he will know until a luckier droid kills him. Cody is not an optimist about clones living long, happy, fulfilling lives. He has eyes after all and a functioning brain.

Cody glares at Obi-Wan, just in case. He has learnt, in the two years since he took his position with his General, that Jedi react pretty well to glaring. Not that it stops them from doing stupid stuff, but at least, they feel guilty about it.

If they like the glaring party only. Commander Ponds had a lot of things to narrate about Mace Windu and the horrible, horrible conglomerate mogul.

Obi-Wan takes his most innocent air, something Cody stopped believing two days in their acquaintance, when his newly minted General had destroyed a whole block of warehouses on an unnamed moon and made a grown Hutt call for its parent. It had been a bad month for Obi-Wan. No need to judge. When innocents are in danger, the cost of the repairs is less a problem and more a number for the politicians to handle. And yes, Obi-Wan knows the money used could certainly be used in other useful ways, but no amount of credits could ever buy a life, in the eyes of a Jedi. But that day, when Cody, after a few, very stressful hours of radio-silence, had finally gotten back his General, slightly charred, the hostages, hungry and thirsty and exhausted but all of them in one piece, and a terrified Hutt, in the middle of a devastated battleground, he had understood better the warning of Alpha-17. There, Cody had sworn in petto to never underestimate his Jedi, despite the irreproachable manners, the swishing hair and the smile of a holo-star.

Together, they take the time to check every soldier, to make sure nobody was busy drowning in their own fluid because they were too hangover/still drunk, to roll over. Everybody is alive, and the communication officers are getting ready to do a double shift, and ready to nib their vode about it later.

“It’s a good thing we’re on down time,” Obi-Wan remarks, “I must confess, despite the talents of your brothers, I’m not quite sure we could withstand an attack from Grievous and his various cronies right now.”

“We would get our asses handed to us, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

Obi-Wan cautiously touches one of the abandoned drink containers, with more care than he gives to explosives.

“What did he put in this thing?” he asks, fascinated.

“You’re not testing it!” Cody immediately retorts, because he knows his Jedi, “not in the name of science, curiosity or whatever.”

Obi-Wan touches the container a second time.

Cody could swear the thing moves in return, like it wants to be pet. Obi-Wan hums, his face interested and he leans a little more in the direction of the container. If the thing starts growing whatever strange means of locomotion is on its mind, Cody is using his blaster, no matter the General’s opinion. That’s how bad holo-dramas start, with an unknown thing unleashed on an unsuspecting ship/outpost/space station. He refuses to star in one of those plot-lacking dramas his brother Wolffe pretends he doesn’t love.

The thing doesn’t move anymore and Obi-Wan loses interest and goes back to helping troopers into their quarters and their bunks.

Cody helps, but that doesn’t mean he’s not plotting terrible retributions. He knows the last few weeks have been pretty hard, the hardest in a long time, that’s one of the reasons Obi-Wan and himself made themselves scarce last night.

Now, they have a week just waiting for the Negotiator to come pick them up. One week for the men to rest and to heal and perhaps to train lightly…but that’s no reason for the sort of screw-up Cody is seeing right now. Boil and his still should be transferred from the 501th and put into whatever part of the army that handles studies about biological warfare. Biological warfare that the Republic officially doesn’t indulge in, studying it only as a way to protect its worlds against it. But Cody isn’t convinced. He has a lot of questions he will never ask about parts of the army which are not led by Jedi, and that the Jedi are trying, with no success, to have access too. Obi-Wan has promoted him so much that the Commander now has access to documents he’s pretty sure nobody thought a clone ever would. He’s staying silent for now. If the Jedi need help with that, if they fail, the vode will try, but Cody is keeping this ammunition in reserve. He can only fire it once, because when natural-borns who aren’t Jedi realize exactly how much power Obi-Wan and the Jedi council has given him and some of the other commanders, they will try to strip them of it, he just knows it.

At the end, everybody is moaning in their bunks, or manning communication, and Cody and Obi-Wan raid the nice rations, the ones with the green seals, no less food of unkown origins than the rest of it, but certainly the tastiest. They sit down at the entry of the outpost, sharing a canteen of water between them. They don’t talk, most of the time they don’t need to.

Cody isn’t really hungry but it’s easier to trick Obi-Wan into eating something when those who surround him do too. The warmth of the sun, the sounds of nature, the nice, and so rare, oh so rare, knowledge that they have a little free time instead of having to run to put out another fire. All of this is making Obi-Wan soften, like a carving of stone suddenly becoming pliable.

“Commander?” Cody’s holocom disturbs them, and Cody startles, suddenly realizing he was lost in the light playing into the copper of Obi-Wan’s hair.

“It’s nothing, really nothing probably,” the shiny in charge of this particular console explains to them, “ one of the new models of probes should have been back twenty minutes ago. I tried to raise it per the procedure, but it isn’t answering.”

“We’re supposed to be alone on this world,” Obi-Wan remarks, a line forming between his brows.

“They are still working the kicks out of this model,” the shiny admits, “that’s why we used them specifically on this planet where they are in no danger. We’re supposed to go back with all of them, for study, to hammer out the last problems.”

The line between the General’s brows is growing deeper.

“I will make a report to the Council about the danger it could pose to you, to send any vode on the field with materials not totally ready, and the Jedi Order will issue a formal protest.” His shoulders are tense. No matter the number of tries, the Jedi are blocked at every corner in the Senate in their efforts to better the life of the clones, even in the small things and it’s a terrible possibility that this time will be the same.

“You know what? We should go check ourselves,” Cody decides, because he wants to erase that line, that tension. “Since Boil poisoned the men, we could do it. A little trek in fresh air before breathing the recycled air in the Negotiator again.”

“Oh Cody, I can do it myself,” Obi-Wan offers immediately, “you don’t have a lot of free time-“

“Funny, I would have sworn you didn’t know the concept…”

“I am perfectly capable of knowing when my body needs down time.”

“That’s not what Master Erin said.”

And that’s how they leave the base.

It’s almost noon, birds or other small things Cody can’t honestly identify are chirping, the air is crisp and fresh, and the sky is only slightly purple, with no risk of rain. No matter how many worlds he sees, Cody is still out of countenance on worlds where the combination of gases in the atmospheres and stars emitting other waves than the Kamino sun combine to give entire landscapes strange colours. Most of the time, he’s wearing his helmet which filters the strangeness of it, and it’s only at the end of the battle, when he takes it off, that he realizes everything is weirdly green-tainted.

Also, he’s pretty sure Arc Trooper Fives was lying when he told him once he visited a world on a body guarding mission with his own Jedi were everything was glittering. He’s not putting any money on it, because Skywalker and his men were guarding the Naboo Senator. From what Cody observes, when Naboo people enter the scene, glitter just happens. He also thinks Fives is much better being Rex’s problem than his own.

Most of their supplies have already been packed for retrieval, so Cody and Obi-Wan only took one hover bike out, and for now Obi-Wan is piloting, Cody behind, and the Commander is beginning to think he made a tactical error. The plastoid of his armour is supposed to stop him from feeling Obi-Wan’s warmth, but Cody could swear he can still feel it. For all that the Jedi can seem aloof and strange, nothing makes him remember his General is flesh and blood than encircling a linen-warped waist with his arms.

The world passes around them, the colours of the trees, the playful course of the clouds in the sky, the peaceful scenery of a wild world, with its inherent qualities and defaults. Cody likes those worlds better, untouched by sentient life. Growing up in the sterility of Kamino, there is something intoxicating in nature running its course, forests giving way to meadows, biotopes decided by climates and geology, and not by a careful hand arranging them for the maximal profits in their exploitation.

Cody understands about the need for fresh territory, with the growth of population, but certainly, certainly the most carefully hidden part of him insists quite vehemently, there must be another solution than the desolation of grey and pollution that is Coruscant. Something else than seeing the poorest people of the Republic living in deplorable conditions, never seeing the fresh green of a new leaf, as the richest ones can sample the delights of nature in carefully constructed reserves?

More and more, Cody is curious about the Agricorps, and their works to restore degraded biotopes, but he had the vague impression, when he asked questions about it to his General, that it’s a difficult subject for him.

Probably, Obi-Wan wanted to go into the Agricorps and they didn’t want him to, for whatever reasons. Cody thinks it’s more glorious to restore nature and to help feed a community than to go to war, like Obi-Wan is doing right now, or to negotiate treaties, which he vaguely thinks is Obi-Wan’s job in time of peace.

Cody’s thoughts drift gently as the journey continues, going from nature’s beauty to the exact shade of Obi-Wan’s hair when he has been under a natural sun for more than a few hours. The way the copper of it becomes richer and richer…. After a little less than two hours, they switch pilots, and Cody does his best to keep his thoughts on track. It would be stupid to crash just because he’s distracted by a flight of birds taking off with the noise of the bikes, no matter how graceful they are. He concentrates on piloting, and not on the presence of Obi-Wan behind him, his arms around Cody, and not in the colours of the forest around them, and the bucolic impression of their little expedition.

The last known position of their wayward probe put it next to a small lake, four hours away on hover bike, at the base of the mountainous regions. If this part of the world was in winter season, the most logical reason for their missing probe would be a mudslide. Cody told in his reports time and time again that the probes should fly higher, that the field itself is much less friendlier than believed in the labs, but apparently nobody listens to him.

It’s the end of spring on this part of the planet, the probe was probably eaten by a giant fish, or something equally undignified.

They unseat on a single beach, the last known location. No more probe there than dignity and decency in the Senate. Nothing. No blackened hull of the thing if it had exploded under mysterious circumstances, best known as shoddy work in the conception. Not even a trace they could track back.

Cody turns on himself, surveying the landscape. Vegetation, mountains, peaceful lapping of water on the beach, more mountains with their snowy capes, a lot of weird looking trees. For a vacation, it would be peaceful. For missing military equipment, it’s sadly lacking.

“By incredible luck, you wouldn’t sense our missing flying friend in the Force?” Cody asks, because that would simplify things. That would simplify things, so of course the answer is no. As Obi-Wan struggles with putting together the scanner, Cody gathers pieces of driftwood, intending to start a fire. If they have to circle on foot, on uneven ground, to find the probes, nothing says they can’t do it after another meal next to a warm fire. In the harsh reality of war, Cody has learnt to wisely enjoy the few moments of peace, and he would very much like to teach that skill to his General. Obi-Wan is supposed to have decades of experience in him, but apparently he’s not aware that every sentient has their limits.

Cody is less than twenty meters from the Jedi and the hoverbike, facing Obi-Wan, his arms already full of a nice load when he sees Obi-Wan let go of the scanner, which tumbles on the stones, and turns to him, a hand already at his waist, reaching for his lightsaber.

“Cod-“ Obi-Wan yells, but the sound doesn’t reach Cody, as the stones give way under him, shifting in a dip of grey sand and Cody is gulped down like Master Yoda gobbles a small fish.

For a second, he can’t breathe, there is sand everywhere around him, on his skin, in his mouth, infiltrating his armour by the neck, and the wood in his arms squeeze against his ribs. He feels he’s gonna get crushed alive and he struggles with all his strength. Death has always been the end but he wanted to leave in combat. He can feel unconsciousness threatening and just before it would take him, he’s spit up violently and he rolls over with the momentum, the driftwood, the sand, and a few bits of the armour which didn’t survive the experience.

He can see someone lean over him, no more than a silhouette, because it’s so dark, he can feel the sand under his head, and also the head wound and the blood seeping out of it, and he takes a long breath, and it burns, all the way to his lungs, and then he knows no more.

For a long time, Cody floats. He dreams. Or he hallucinates.

He’s on Kamino again and he learns the world is without mercy for him and his brothers.

He’s training and he can feel Alpha-17’s eyes on him, pensive.

He’s very young and he doesn’t understand where the last of his batche went.

He’s older and he’s meeting his first Jedi, General Tii, and she always has a nice word for every clone, but her eyes are terribly sad every step she takes on Kamino.

He’s meeting Rex and their friendship soars instantly.

He’s seeing brothers dying and he’s seeing rescues and the world is a never ending war, but Cody refuses to let that be the only thing his brothers will know. He watches and he checks and he learns and he places his brothers the best he can, and he’s evaluating Jedi and people, and planets and his mind never stops.

Cody wakes up. General Plo Koon is leaning over him and Cody lets relief seize him, until he realizes something is wrong. No eye covers, no breathing masks, and as much as Cody can see in the very low light, the thick leathery hide acting as skin is much lighter than Plo Koon’s. A Kel Dor, but not the Jedi Master that the Wolffe’s pack would follow to the end of the galaxy and beyond.

After a few seconds of his brain going round in circles, it finally stops at a very important point: Kel Dor and humans don’t breathe the same atmosphere, and this Kel Dor is without breathing apparels. Cody goes to put a hand on his mouth in instinctual movement, like he could stop himself from suffocating, but the other lays a hand on Cody’s forearm, his entire body language non-threatening, and says something he can’t understand. That’s when Cody realizes something translucent is surrounding his head, like a bubble inflating and deflating with every breath he takes. He pokes it, very carefully. It’s flexible, slightly sticky and it smells earthy, a little like those mushrooms his General insisted he try once, when he took him to his friend Dex dinner.

Cody takes a careful breath. He doesn’t die in terrible suffering, so he takes another one. The air entering his lungs still seems appropriate for his species. He tries to sit up, moving very slowly to make the stranger understand he’s not attacking, and the Kel Dor helps him.

Seated, he can better observe the place around him. He has been placed on a pallet of light fur, in some sort of carved place, the walls decorated, not in paint, but in carving, and his armour is against one of the walls, carefully stacked. Cody wants to touch his head, where he was hurt, but once again the Kel Dor stops him before he touches the bubble. The only light comes from a small clay bowl full of sizzling oil, where a wick has been adapted. It doesn’t give enough light to help Cody see more than the small room and a crude overture in the stone, leading to more darkness. He can’t even study perfectly the features of the Kel Dor, more than to be sure it’s definitely not Master Koon.

The Kel Dor says something again and Cody makes a frustrated noise.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak your language.” The other doesn’t seem to understand that, so Cody tries Mando’a, with the same result.

He tries the Galactic Sign Language, no results.

He knows a few signs of the Alderaan Sign Language, the one from their Southern Hemisphere. Queen Organa taught him a few lessons once during a lockdown in the Royal Palace when he was guarding her, between grumbling about clones’s rights and what her husband better do about it in the Senate, and Cody learns fast. The Kel Dor still doesn’t react in any useful way.

“A common language would be pretty useful to know if I’m your guest or your prisoner,” Cody jokes. Sarcasm now. He’s spending too much time with his General.

He shifts, trying to see if he will be stopped from standing, but the other only helps him, carefully arranging on Cody’s torso the ending of the bubble. Now that Cody studies it more attentively, he’s sure the stuff is organic. It’s like they forced his head and the superior part of his torso into some sort of ring of weird looking mushrooms, the mycelium of one of them extended around his head. If this is producing oxygen for him, he really doesn’t want to disturb it.

The world tilts when he stands up but the Kel Dor pushes a shoulder under Cody’s arm and they go out. When Cody passes his armour, he fetches his blaster, and the other doesn’t stop him. Either he doesn’t understand it’s a weapon, or he doesn’t think Cody will attack him. Her? Them? Are Kel Dol gendered beings?

Exiting the small room, Cody can’t see. Everything is dark around them. He can hear movements and the air around him has the quality of an enormous space. A cave, he would think, but the little lamp his new friend has in his claws is not enough.

“Of course,” Cody remarks, “your eyes are much much better. You don’t need a bank of lamps.” He almost jumps when someone joins them and if his head wasn’t still ringing, he probably would have attacked, but it’s only another Kel Dor, smaller, with a skin more brown. They ask something to the first one, but again, there is no sense for Cody.

He’s guided to a stone bench and the little lamp is pushed into his hands. Kel Dor are going in and out of the little circle and Cody tries to evaluate how many of them there are, but he’s, to his great shame, not good enough to distinguish between the Kel Dor easily. He can isolate one or two who have more evident features for a human, like one missing an arm, but the rest of them, all dressed in a very similar way with some furs identical to those Cody woke up on, and the alien features. Cody feels anger against himself. He judges natural borns for not making an effort to distinguish between the vode, despite their efforts to gain their own identity by tattoos or dyes, and he shouldn’t be victim of the same bias.

Finally, someone sits next to him. Cody studies their face, trying to commit them to memory.

People don’t seem unfriendly. He’s pretty sure the one he woke up with is some sort of local healer, and that it is this one who came back to him several times. Children even come to him, chattering in their language in a way which makes him think of the younger ones on Kamino, before some of their batches started to disappear and they started to understand what their fate in the world would be. A particularly daring little one climbs onto his lap and Cody looks around, ready to see the parent arrive and take its offspring from the strange being. But this community seems so peaceful nobody sees a problem with the child on the stranger's lap.

The little one shows him his treasure, a cube deeply carved with symbols Cody can’t decipher. Of course. In a world without sun, carving must be a medium and painting, or writing, must be inexistent.

“It’s a very nice cube,” he says to the little one, whose gender he can’t decipher. If Kel Dor have gender. He’s pretty sure he heard once that the biggest number of genders registered for a sentient species was eight, and the smaller zero, but he has no idea for this species.

The child seems pretty happy with the answer, even if they can’t understand it any more than Cody can understand their own opinion, expressed in an uninterrupted flow.

Around him, he can vaguely perceive people going about their day. How calm. How reposing. Nevertheless, peaceful or not, Cody can’t breathe the same atmosphere as them, and the strange organic concoction they put on his head to help will soon find its limits. He’s getting thirsty, for once, and he can’t drink without taking the thing off, which he can't. And that’s not even thinking about his General, who must be trying to reach him by any means the Force gives him.

If he knows Cody is alive.

No, no, he must know.

And even if the Force, whose exact limitations Cody is quite unsure of, even if the Force can’t tell Obi-Wan Cody is alive, Obi-Wan is not exactly a man to just go back to the outpost and declare him dead. He will search and search and search, and bring Cody back alive to his vode, or his body for his brothers to honour.

Cody knows: it had been a terrible row between the Jedi on one part and the Kaminoan and the Senate on another, this refusal to abandon dead clones bodies to the elements.

And, to the surprise of the Senate who was in the habits to bully the Jedi for centuries, the Jedi hadn’t budged. But Cody had seen what it had cost them: the Senate had made them pay, in late important reports who the Jedi needed for the war efforts, on refusal of important supplies, suddenly labelled unessential…

So, Obi-Wan is searching for him at the moment, and Cody needs to go to him. The ringing in his head, present since he woke up, has slightly diminished, and he has walked with more grievous wounds.

The question is now: how to mime exit to the Kel Dor, how to ask for a guide? Because if he has to feel around the cave until he finds an exit, he will, but that would be so much easier.

“Hoping there is an exit into your cave, little one,” he says to the child, who is falling asleep on his lap, “because if I have to drill through the roof to the exterior of the planet, it’s gonna cause breathing problems for your city.”

An adult approaches them, a long plaid in their hands, and they mime Cody putting it around his shoulders. Instead, Cody wraps the little one in it and puts the resulting bundle into the adult’s arms.

“I don’t suppose you could send me to the nearest exit?” He asks, and of course, the Kel Dor doesn’t have an answer.

He takes the little lamp and leaves to explore. He can’t see well more than two meters from the circle of light, and even with it, his eyes are struggling.

Soon, he’s stopped by a wall, which he follows until he finds a low door, with only a curtain. He risks an eye, feeling quite voyeuristic, but he only sees something resembling a storage space, big amphoras against a wall.

He continues to follow the wall, finds another one, loses himself in what is a succession of low houses. Above him, the roof of the cavern is still invisible and he can’t see the walls. He finds another little place with stone benches.

Or is it the same?

No, even underground, Cody is sure of his sense of direction. It’s another one place, and the city is bigger than he thought possible. He’s also walking way too slowly, because of the problem of light and his still ringing head.

“Kriff,” he whispers, sitting down on one of the benches.

“Obi-Wan, please find me,” he whispers before scolding himself. He’s no melodrama maiden, he is perfectly capable of finding the surface again by himself.

A burly Kel Dor approaches him, mushrooms in his claws and says something.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Cody tries to explain. The other sits next to him and gesticulates to the mushrooms helping, he thinks, him to breath, and when Cody doesn’t do anything, he starts placing the ones he brought against the first ones. They seem to merge in a frankly disgusting scene which is probably mushrooms porn.

“Does that mean you need to change them regularly for me to breathe?” Cody asks, despite knowing he won’t receive an answer he can understand.

To add another problem to the long list Cody is already shouldering on, the cave floor starts to tremble and people start yelling.

People are yelling, and despite the language barrier, Cody can understand the panic with no problems.

The soil beneath his feet grumbles again. There is a sound like a rockslide, and more yells, and terror is the taste at the back of Cody’s throat, because he still can’t kriffin see.

Finally, the trembling is so terrible he’s thrown on his knees and the sound reaches a crescendo as a great light emerges from the rock soil, three hundred meters from where Cody is kneeling. It’s some sort of giant worm, with a maw higher than Cody. It roars and glows even brighter, the bioluminescence of its chitin almost dazzling for Cody himself.

All around Cody, Kel Dor are yelling and struggling on their feet with great difficulties, as the rock soil is still trembling. The beast roars again and it sounds like a thousand ships taking off at the same time in the confined environment. As Cody is helping a Kel Dor to their feet, the pandemonium reaches an even higher spike as another worm emerges, further than the first, and the quake of the rock sends them flat on their bellies.

Cody really regrets letting Boil distribute his production yesterday, what he wouldn’t give for ten men and a rotary canon right now! Even for Hardcase, who he’s really happy is most of the time Rex’s problem, and his tastes for explosives.

He hoists himself more or less vertical, swearing all he can at the same time. He helps the Kel Dor to their feet again and then assesses the situation.

The lights of the worms let him have a good gaze for the first time at the enormous cavern they are in and the low buildings in it. Behind them he can even see big overtures, probably an entire network of caverns. An entire city in the dark, deep in the soil, protected from the outside world and its atmosphere which the Kel Dor can’t breathe, and from the Republic scanners which never knew they were there.

Protected from the sun, too.

And now that the light has come to them in the form of predators, they are defenceless. Cody can see people trying to flee, with a hand on their eyes, and with no success. By the time Cody has succeeded in approaching the scene of the disaster, at least three Kel Dor have been swallowed.

One of the worms, the closest, roars again and Cody doesn’t lose time: the maw, unprotected by the chitin covering the body, seems like a perfect target.

He raises his blaster and fires.

Another roar, even more deafening, as blood splatters all around in a gorish scene. A good part of the mandible has exploded, but the beast isn’t dead. It strikes, trying to gobble Cody like it did the poor Kel Dor. The difference is that the Commander can see in the light, on the contrary of the first victims. He evades just in time to escape certain death.

He rolls over and raises his blaster a second time, but the angle is worse than the first time, and the shot dampens itself on the chitin with no more effect than darkening it, and enraging the worm even more.

Again, it tries to kill Cody and the man dances out of range, blessing the hours of training the Jedi gave all of them. It had been the first thing the Jedi had done, because they thought the training the vode had received on Kamino didn’t focus enough on the art of dodging.

Cody never told them it was because the trainers and the Kaminoans thought the vode easily expandable and more useful for a suicide strike. He suspects the Jedi knew, if the way they act around the Kaminoans is proof.

Dodging, advancing, retreating, taking a shot every time he sees an overture, Cody fights, more a reflex than anything, to protect the Kel Dor. He wouldn’t refuse a little help; with spears even if they don’t have other weapons, but the cavern inhabitants are useless. They are not even running away from the worms, full of the terror of death, and the light, which have come in their city.

Nevertheless, the issue of the fight was never a real question. Even hurt and far away from his usual fighting grounds, Cody was bred a warrior and he had honed the skills given to him by his genetic donor all his life. The worm, a female, is in the habit of only fighting other female worms during the mating season for access to the best breeding ponds and to gobble Kel Dor and every animal it could. It never had to fight a sentient being, especially one with a blaster.

The blaster’ shots finally damage the roof of its mouth enough and one of them burns its path to the brain. The beast dies immediately, but the nervous system needs time to receive that message. For a moment, Cody fears the convulsions of the enormous body will cause the entire caves system to collapse on their heads.

When the movements finally stop, he vaults himself over a rock slide, caused by the events, and approaches carefully. The worm is still partially obscured by the rock he emerges from, but Cody can see a good twenty meters of it. He’s bringing back a chitin part to the GAR, because he wants ships protected like that!

A sudden movement to his left makes him turn, but too late. His zoological fascination has caused Cody to make a horrible, rookie mistake, the sort of mistake which makes a rookie never have an occasion to become something other than a rookie.

For a moment, he had forgotten there was a second worm.

He brandishes his weapon, but it’s too late. Only his reflexes save him from being cut in two, but a razor sharp incisor scraps against his armour, parting it like butter and only missing the skin by half a centimetre. The worm has no interest in the Kel Dor, no matter how easy prey they are. It just wants to kill the stubborn little creature who just killed its mother. His blaster clatters on the rock, too kriffin far away. Cody rolls on himself, tries for it, but he already knows it’s too late, when the sound of a lightsaber being ignited announces the arrival of the cavalry, just in time.

Obi-Wan Kenobi arrives on the scene like an armed deux ex machina. He’s wearing Cody’s helmet in order to breath in the cavern and death is burning light-blue in his hand. Rare are the materials which can resist the power of a lightsaber, and Obi-Wan doesn’t take chances with Cody’s life, no matter how he is repelled by the taking of a life, even an animal one. The head of the worm falls on the other side of the body as Obi-Wan is still airborne from one of those improbable jumps Force Sensitive do. The second his feet touch the rock; he’s rushing to Cody, trying to assess his health.

Across the galaxy, Anakin suddenly sits down in the marital bed, sending Padmé, who was asleep across his torso, tumbling into the sheets by the violence of his movements. The vision of a chitinous torso opening, full of meaty juice, dances before his eyes.

“Ani?” The young Senator asks, once he has succeeded in making her put down the blaster she retrieved from even the Force doesn’t know where. Padmé doesn’t do peaceful when she’s woken up abruptly, something he learned quickly in their marriage. Convincing the handmaiden that every noise inside their bedroom wasn’t a murder attempt and that they shouldn’t rush in, weapons drawn, was another interesting adjustment to the married life.

“I just.….I’m not sure…” He tries to grip what woke him up, but it already has disappeared. “I think I’m hungry,” he admits, “sorry to have interrupted your sleep.”

“The droids can make you something,” she suggests, burrowing into the nest of pillows, less prone to sudden shifting.

“Do you think we have insects?” He asks.

****************************

“Cody! Cody, are you alright?”

“Obi-Wan, General, are you hurt?” Cody and Obi-Wan ask at the same time, hands searching, patting the other bodies in gestures less destined to triage of wounds and more to the simple animal need for contact.

“The air of the cavern isn’t breathable for us,” Obi-Wan says, after a few seconds and Cody nods: “I deduced that, but the thing on my head….it’s helping.”

“How did you deduce such a- Oh, um, hello.”

Around them, the Kel Dor have begun to assemble, all of them an arm on their face, trying to protect their eyes.

“Your lightsaber, turn it off,” Cody says and, making something purr in the Commander’s chest, Obi-Wan immediately obeys, no question, no hesitation.

The Kel Dors guide them away from the scene of the carnage. Cody sees a few of them with stone machetes and axes, already working on taking apart the pale flesh of the worms, working from the wounds Cody and Obi-Wan made, as the chitin is too hard on other places of the big bodies.

Cody watches for a few seconds. One of a Kel Dor yanks open the cranial cavity. Cody turns to the other side very quickly, because butchering enormous worms is apparently more than his battle-hardened stomach can take. Nothing should make the noise an axe makes against flesh.

Cody finds his little lamp again. It’s not even extinguished, the events haven’t probably lasted more than ten minutes. The universe is a hard place, thinks Cody, where he could get eaten by any abomination with too much teeth in less time than an oil lamp runs its course.

They sit next to each other on the closest bench and in the halo of the lamp, Cody inspects his General better. He’s covered in stone dust and whatever else disgusting stuff is on his tunic: he probably crawled his way there.

The adrenaline is still burning through Cody, and joy too, as he turns to his General. On the whole, he misses the days life was simpler on Kamino, with no worms for example, but on Kamino, he never heard the sound of a lightsaber and knew, with a certainty so burning it could have well resonated in the Force, that he was saved. There is comfort, in the hard world he’s living in, in the certainty that his General will tear apart entire solar systems to rescue any clones. That all Jedi would. For a clone, raised to be interchangeable, this strong-willed refusal to leave even one of them behind is a balm to the soul.

“You found me,” he says, and he tries to infuse that with professionalism, and fails miserably.

“I will always find you,” Obi-Wan promises. It’s strange to talk to him like that, with Cody’s helmet on his head. Cody hadn’t realized he relied so much on the Jedi’s face to understand him.

“Yes, sir, but for a moment, I confess I thought you would more, avenge me or something.”

Obi-Wan touches his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to have been so long,” he says, “the system of caves proved itself tricky, and the Force insisted I couldn’t just blow up my way inside.”

“That would let the atmosphere on the outside enter,” Cody theorized, “and I think, our hosts….”

Like they have been summoned, two Kel Dor approach them. They are dressed as simply as all the others Cody has seen, but on the bust of the smaller one, there is some sort of ceremonial pectoral and it has a very big difference with everything Cody has seen since stepping into the cave. It’s in metal.

“Obi-Wan”, Cody whispers, “look at that.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t speak the language more than Cody. He can recognize it’s not the actual principal language of Kel Dor, which he has heard before, but no more than that. Nevertheless, it’s less a problem for a Jedi. He can feel in the Force other’s intentions, enough to understand easily that the people here don’t want to harm them, which Cody had deduced himself hours ago, and that they want to bring them to see something.

Cody is very happy to leave the dead bodies of the worms behind them.

And to General Skywalker eats insects! Bless the Force that Skywalker is Rex’s Jedi.

One cave. Another. Another one.

“How many are there? How big are these caves?'' Cody asks. He’s tired, hungry, thirsty, and more or less ready to go back to camp, thank you very much.

They find a ship, or more, the skeleton of a ship, in the last part of the caves system, the deepest one. It’s less a cave, and more the memory of a crash. The ship has been cannibalized, years after years, of everything useful, to the latest scrap of metal, except for the framework.

“It was probably made with a metal too dense for the meagre set of tools they have,” Obi-Wan theorizes.

“I can’t recognize the type of ship that is, the form itself is so strange,” Cody remarks, watching it with the eye of a man trained to recognize enemy and ally ships in a nano second in the middle of battle. Obi-Wan is touching the metal with his bare skin, with great reverence.

He always loved old things, his Jedi.

The happiest Cody had seen him was for a protection mission in a dusty archive, on a faraway world. General Skywalker was with them, and the young Ahsoka too, and the intel had been faulty. There had been no attack, Obi-Wan had had his Padawan and GrandPadawan close and safe, and spent his days making amorous noises at poetry treaties centuries old.

“It’s incredibly old. Probably before the foundation of the Republic."

"But that’s….that’s old as kriff."

"During the first time of space travel, ships weren’t as reliable. They probably are the descendants of a crew of explorers. After the crash, staying inside the caves was the only long-term possibility for them, if they hadn’t the means to produce enough respiratory apparatuses. It was the only way to survive for them. Nevertheless, it stopped anyone from finding them. And little by little, they regressed technically and lost the way to contact the outside."

"Do you really think they would have travelled from their world without a way to breath on other planets?"

"Perhaps it was stocked in a part of the ship lost during the crash. Perhaps it was so long ago, it was long before the Kel Dor knew very few worlds have an atmosphere breathable for them…Every species has the tendency to think the world at large tailored for them.”

They don’t leave immediately. Obi-Wan is of the opinion that Cody is too tired to use the path he himself used to find him. And he’s probably right. Cody’s head is throbbing where he hurt it during his fall, but he doesn’t see how he could get better here, where he can’t eat or drink.

What follows is a game of mime between Obi-Wan and the Kel Dors which Cody won’t forget, ever, no matter how much Obi-Wan asks, and he regrets he doesn’t have a holocamera.

After a time, and an unforgettable time it was, Obi-Wan and he find themselves stashed in a little room, so low they can’t stand. It’s more a bed stuffed inside some sort of structure made in the same weird-looking, weird-smelling mushrooms. Cody takes off the bubble around his head and Obi-Wan takes off Cody’s helmet.

The red head has the worst case of helmet’s hair Cody has seen, ever and Cody can’t stop an unprofessional laugh around his first mouthful of fresh water.

“I don't Not a head made for helmets, do I?” the Jedi smiles, as he tore in two a strange looking loaf of bread.

They fall on the food, famished, and tease each other at the same time. There is water and what Cody thinks is some root vegetables, and flatbread, and some meat he isn’t touching with a ten foot pool, just in case it's giant worm.

“If you swear to wear armour instead of linen in battle, I swear to the Force I will never mock your hair,” Cody smiles in return, and Obi-Wan makes a face, like he did already wear good, solid protection instead of tunic and leggings and whatever he calls the multiple layers of his Jedi’s clothes.

“I thought….for a moment, I thought…” Obi-Wan stops. It’s rare to see him lost for words, he of the Silver tongue, the Negotiator.

“I’m not dead,” Cody reiterates, because there is no need to beat around the bush. Even risking their lives every day the Force makes, nobody likes the kick of adrenaline when one of your men is missing. It never becomes normal. It never should.

“And yet, for a second I thought you were. When I saw the earth opening under your feet and gobbling you. And when I arrived during your battle, the Force trumpeting in my heart about the mortal danger you were running to.”

“The Kel Dor were pretty useless against those things. Couldn’t let them get eaten like that. Not when they rescued me and helped me.”

“I know. I know. And I would have done exactly the same thing.”

Obi-Wan sits on the bed, less gracefully than he usually does. From where he’s leaning against the mushroom wall, Cody stares. He can see the lines around his mouth, and after his late-night conversation with Master Quinlan Vos, he knows they aren’t from laughing. He can see the lines at the edges of the eyes, discreet for now, a little more present every day. He can see the first traces of grey on the temples, simply a trace of silver in the red mane…. He’s, almost, sure there was no grey at the beginning of the war, he has seen the holos of Obi-Wan against Prime, against Jango, all those years ago, on Kamino.

Obi-Wan is burning too bright, burning himself.

And Obi-Wan isn’t the only one not getting younger. The accelerated aging isn’t exactly good for Cody’s health, starting with his knees.

One day, he won’t be quick enough for the next giant, bioluminescent man-gobbling worm. Or Obi-Wan will be too tired against Grievous. Since they met, an assignment Commander- General decided by Alpha-17 himself, their life has been full of Separatist assassins, murderous fauna, Sith assassins, murderous geology, Separatist assassins pretending to be Sith assassins, and Sith assassins pretending to be Separatists assassins, brain-washed murderous Senators, murderous flora, murderous black holes, and one time a murderous sentient ship.

The whole galaxy is conspiring to kill clones and Jedi, for what Cody can see.

If his math is right, he survived today the sixty-third attempt on his life from Fate since he left Kamino. Obi-Wan was there for most of them, and Cody was around for the latest attempts on Obi-Wan’s life.

And one day, it will stop.

Cody opens his mouth before he can talk himself out of it. Life is short and he’s a soldier slave, he doesn’t have the luxury to wait for another time.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says, and Obi-Wan looks like he has been whacked on the skull with a heavy object. It’s not exactly his best face, mouth round in surprise, and Cody only feels affection. Then Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a smile like a sun, blinding, warm, and the Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

The Jedi touches the side of Cody’s face.

He doesn’t speak. Not yet. His head against Cody, his breath sharing Cody’s own air, they close their eyes, and Cody experiences the strange idea that he’s detaching himself from his brothers.

For the first time, there is something in his hands, or well, in his heart, that he doesn’t want to share with Wolffe or Boil, or even Rex, who has become his closest brother.

He doesn’t want to hide Obi-Wan from them, but he wants….

He hasn’t the words. Not yet.

But, with Obi-Wan at his side, he hopes he will learn them.

And he hopes his brothers too can find something, or someone, so precious they need to share the joy of knowing it, but also to keep it to themselves, like he wants to keep to himself the smile of Obi-Wan when Cody tells “I love you”, or the small freckles at the side of his mouth, visible only so, so, so close.

The first “I love you” Cody hears from Obi-Wan is whispered against his lips.

The first kiss tastes of the bread offered by the Kel Dor, of the cave’s dust and it’s perfect.

They’re still in the same situation, two exhausted men, in a cave full of toxic gases, only protected from them by some unknown mushrooms exuding oxygen, and Cody feels like he could take over the entire Republic. He sleeps curved around Obi-Wan, like two parts of the same whole, touching as much as they can, and if the headache from his head wound brings Cody to the surface a few times during their nap, he feels rejuvenated after it.

After, the Kel Dor help them find the surface and Cody and Obi-Wan leave their new friends, hand in hand, quite happy to find back the sun and the sky, the fresh air of a late morning…and almost all their men crawling around their area, trying desperately to find them.

Obi-Wan keeps Cody’s hand in his and a few brothers less intimidated than others by Cody’s glare, embarrassed and proud at the same time, even bumped their big brother’s shoulders as a sign of congratulation. Obi-Wan immediately goes red, like he’s a teen on his first crush, and not a seasoned Jedi Master whose touch can bring life or death.

Cody finds it adorable.

*******************

It’s the middle of the night shift on the Negotiator, but Cody is still working on a different time zone, so he lets Obi-Wan sleep peacefully in their shared bunk. Their shared bunk! A notion that still makes him giddy like a shiny at their first kiss, even a month after getting together. They are taking things pretty slow, or in the wrong order, Cody isn’t sure, they sleep in the same bunk every night, but haven’t got very far in term of sex, and this perfect, because this is them, and not some sort of artificial list of relationship’s milestone. And Cody already knows, deep in his soul, that he will never love a man like he loves this one, even if Obi-Wan is killed tomorrow, and he’s sure it’s the same for Obi-Wan.

The Negotiator is in route to join with the Steadfast, so General Koth is on board after a conjoined mission where Obi-Wan and him gave Cody new grey hairs. He finds him easily in the mess, demolishing a healthy serving. The stamps outside the rations are a different colour than the ones Cody and his brothers eat.

“Can I join you?” Cody asks.

“Of course,” Eeth Koth immediately answers and the chair on the other side of the table moves on its own, offering itself for the Commander. Cody arches a brow.

“Don’t tell Obi-Wan,” the General jokes, “or I will endure a lesson for frivolous use of the Force.”

Cody sits and they stay silent for a moment, the General apparently happy to let him come to his questions in peace, continuing to eat his meal. Despite being tailored for a different species’ nutritional needs, it looks exactly as unappetizing as most rations Cody is used too.

“General Ke-“

“You can call him Obi-Wan in front of me,” Eeth Koth interrupts. “There is no need to be ashamed of what binds you.” He grimaces. “Force knows we will all need all the comfort we can get before everything is set and done in this war.”

“Obi-Wan and I, we had a bit of an adventure, last month.”

“From what I heard, you have a lot of them.”

“Yes but….it was…it was the first time I was around civilians. Normal people, I mean.”

“Not Jedi and not clones, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Putting apart the fact that you are normal people, and that we are too, that it is a slippery slope to consider us different, because then the rights…”

“I know you’re fighting for us in the Senate. I know. That isn’t the question…I just mean. They were civilians. Even more civilian than usual. I have only met natural borns who are Jedi and Senators and politicians or some sort of official. This was different. And I realized how little we know about the world outside the GAR. And how little we know about societies, and species who aren’t us. They raised us for war only…” Cody was almost trembling with it. Eeth Koth put a comforting hand on his wrist and Cody continued:

“Obi-Wan, I don’t want Obi-Wan to become my teacher. It’s not his role. But if we want to have a chance outside the war, us, the vode, we need to learn about the outside world. I wanted to ask you if there was something…a way…”

Eeth Koth had totally abandoned his meal and Cody could feel the weight of his gaze, the same gaze as Obi-Wan, transcending their species.

“Let me call a few people,” the Jedi said.

**********

Years later, Cody thinks a lot about that moment. Eeth Koth joined the Force during the war and Cody has to remember this moment for the two of them, this simple moment around a table, this moment which became one of the tipping point of his life. Not the too numerous almost-death, not the many battles, not even his first kiss with his dear Obi-Wan. This moment, in Cody’s mind, is the one which changed his fate.

Eeth Koth died not even two months after that, one among a lot of Jedi who gave their life, alongside the vode, for a chance for the galaxy and its people. Not that people are particularly thankful about it: the discovery of the Sith engineering the two sides of the conflict rocked the easy confidence of the Republic in the solidity of its system.

Democracy is never forever, if people don’t work for it.

No, democracy is only saved for now, and never will it be saved forever and ever. But that shock to the system is treated by the most intelligent of the bunch like a chance to seize. All across the reunited Republic people are working hard, entering politics, creating organizations to teach the population, to hold those in power accountable….

It’s a sad thing so many vode, jedi and civilians had to die and suffer for that. It’s even sadder to think it didn’t almost happen. The Republic almost burned, the Sith almost won, the beloved former Padawan of Obi-Wan Kenobi almost helped murder Mace Windu, Master of the Order...Mace Windu isn’t exactly the type to hold a grunge, but Obi-Wan still needed months after that to stay in his presence, the guilt that should have eaten Anakin transfered.

Honestly, if Obi-Wan forgave Anakin much too quickly, and Windu too, the vod needed a much longer time. Skywalker had almost helped the man who had engineered them as slave soldiers, the man who would have wiped out their free will, the poor part of it they still had. The vod had needed a long time to forgive, and would never forget, but Cody still has the desagreable impression Rex’s anger is a most important consequence in Skywalker’s mind that the almost death of the democratic system and the almost rise of a dictatorship.

Sometimes, late in the night, Obi-Wan stays awake, something lost in his eyes than mediation never totally makes disappear, and Cody is sure that day figures in a good part in his dark thoughts.

Obi-Wan, and Cody too, think about what could have been. If Cody hadn’t been there that day, in the Temple, who would have been in charge of keeping an eye on Skywalker in the Council Room? No one, that who. Because Skywalker was a Council member, if a very fresh one, and there wasn’t on hand a Jedi Master with enough years to take a look at a Council Member and decide he needed baby-sitting. All those Masters were deployed, or in beds in the halls of healing. But Cody, Cody was there, and since he and his General had become an item, he had taken sometimes to act, despite what his logical brain told him, not like a soldier Anakin could order around, but like an exasperated step-father. Exasperated and concerned, as the war advanced and Anakin seemed less and less attached to his morals.

Who would have followed him to the Senate when Skywalker had refused to wait anymore, and tackled him at the last minute? Who would have stopped Anakin Skywalker from doing something as tremendously stupid as to save a Sith pitted against Mace Windu?

And all of that had been possible because Jocasta Nu had taken the first excuse she could to keep Cody on Coruscant that month. A well-known linguist was visiting for a series of talks, and she thought he could be a good professor for Cody, and more importantly that well-know linguist had enough political power to obtain permission for a clone following his courses.

And the Republic had lived, because Cody loved linguistics, or more because he had loved the little he understood of it at the time.

But Cody refuses to let the horrors of those years of war, and his terrible first years on Kamino, define him. He prefers to think, again and again, to that moment with Eeth Koth.

Cody didn’t know exactly what he wanted. His accelerated childhood, raised for war and war only, hadn’t given him the words for it. He just knew that for his brothers and he to have a chance after the war, they needed more. Or even more terrible horrors would certainly befall them. Soldiers without wars aren’t useful anymore, and tools with no use are only fated to be dismantled for parts.

Following Eeth Koth’s call, Jocasta Nu and her assistants had descended on the GAR with determination, great efficiency and anger that they hadn’t thought about that themselves. By dint of foraging the Jedi Archives, and every friendly archives of the galaxy, for legal precedent to help the Vode, they had forgotten all answers weren’t found between the terabytes of a datapad.

Master Nu is seated right next to Obi-Wan in the public and trying very hard to pretend her eyes aren’t misty, as Cody receives his diploma, earning himself the title of Doctor in linguistics, for his work with the forgotten Kel Dor city, right next to the first Kel Dor of said city to have made the jump to Coruscant.

Cody isn’t the first clone to finish his thesis. Not surprising: he left the GAR years later than some of them, refusing to leave before his lover, who had been pressed into service as long as the Senate could justify it, and even longer. With Anakin leaving the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan was certainly the most famous member of it for the public, and it was as if the Senate tried to make him pay the Jedi’s refusal to abandon the vode. But Cody was the first clone Jocasta Nu talked with, when she arrived to try to help the vode not in pleading that they shouldn’t be slave soldiers, but in demonstrating they were so much more.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to leave the GAR officially, that honour went to Rex who followed Ashoka to Orto Plutonia, the first clone to be officially accepted as a member of the Jedi Corps. For what Cody understands, his life consists of almost losing his toes ten times a month, hunting with the Taz and flirting desperately with every passing skirts, as Ahsoka flirts desperately with her own Senator and supervises Republic-Taz contacts. Obi-Wan and Cody went once during permission, and Cody swore to himself that the next time Rex and Ahsoka wanted to see them, it could be on a tropical atoll.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to find a job outside of the Jedi orbit. That honour went to Fives and Tup, who left together and chose the most pacifist world they could. “We were almost separated once, never again. I’m not touching a weapon again in my life” Fives had said to Cody that day, watching Tup, busy hugging Rex, with something ferociously possessive in his eyes. Now, they have a nursery of succulent plants on a small island, in the south hemisphere of Alderaan, and Cody still isn’t sure if they are the best friends in the world, or one of those pairs who took brothers in a quite different sense, and frankly, he doesn’t care. There is a small potted thing they sent as a gift on Cody’s desk, with red undertones and white flowers once a year, but the former Commander has a black thumb, and only Obi-Wan’s careful nursing in the Force saved the poor thing already thrice.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to enter academia, that honour went to Waxer, who now teaches mathematics on Mandalore and is busy reintroducing Fett’s genes into the population with a long string of ex-partners, who still like him very much and with who he raises an army of children, at least three of them bearing a name honouring Waxer.

Cody wasn’t the first clone to marry, that honour went to Jesse and Cody isn’t touching that choice of spouse with a ten-foot pool.

Cody wasn’t the first in a lot of things. But it’s ok. He doesn’t have to lead his brothers anymore. He doesn’t have to bear responsibilities for death and help who didn’t come, and for the horrors that were their life.

The vode are free and Cody can only be a brother like any other.

He can be only Obi-Wan’s husband, even if Obi-Wan jokes that now, it’s more him that will be only the husband of Doctor Cody Kenobi, his arm candy in gatherings.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #my fics

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

A New Home - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: A realtor ready to be hexed by Charlie

Word count: 3,695

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Nova

“So then we finally found the hole where Fang was kept and I wanted to investigate, you know, be cautious but your mum here decided to be a Gryffindor for a day and act brave and just jumped down there. I, of course, jumped right after her and I was a bit mad at her because...”

“A bit?” I raised my eyebrow at Charlie.

“Hey, I am telling the story.” Charlie stuck out his tongue at me. “As I was saying, a bit mad at her because I wanted to go first and didn't want to see her get hurt, and then we talked in a totally normal voice that one can't consider shouting...”

“Right.” I giggled at his ridiculous story-telling.

“Love, stop interrupting me.” Charlie glared at me. “Then we heard Fang and we ran to this cave that belonged to a Red Cap and well, we saved the dog!” Charlie threw his hand in the air all proud and hero-like.

“With a few alterations and details missed that's the story, yes.” I chuckled.

I ran my fingers through Charlie's hair who was resting his head on my knees telling our Red Cap adventure story to the baby in my belly. I am five and a half months pregnant now and ever since I started to show, Charlie has been talking and telling the baby stories, looking at it as if it's the most beautiful thing in the world. Sometimes he places gentle kisses on top of my bump and tells the baby that he loves them already and that he can't wait to meet them. He has evenings when I am reading a book and he gets bored and just starts to rub my belly, singing to it.

I find the whole thing adorable and it warms my heart that he is so excited to be a dad. I know that he is a family man and that he always wished to have a family of his own but I have never imagined him to fall into the role of being a dad so quickly.

The voice he used to talk to the baby was the softest I have ever heard him speak in and his exaggerated stories from the Sanctuary were my favorite to listen to. He made himself look like a strong superhero who all the dragons listen to and if I could, I would listen to him talk all the time. Less than 4 months now and we will meet our baby and I can't wait for Charlie to tell them more incredible stories, no matter how much he changes it or how many details he leaves out.

“I have another one!” Charlie exclaimed after a few minutes of him staring at my baby bump, probably daydreaming about holding our child.

“Char!” I giggled.

“Shh, love. I'm in my story mode.” He sluggishly made his way to me and pressed a tender kiss on my lips.

“So, let me tell you the story of how your mum and dad met.” Charlie went back to resting his head on my knees.

“Didn't you tell this one already?” I teased.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not in the way I am about to tell it.”

“Of course, there are variations.” I tried sounding serious, finding his excitement amusing.

“So, by now you probably know that when mum and I were at school I was a bit obsessed with dragons...”

“Was?” I raised my eyebrows again.

“Am...” Charlie playfully rolled his eyes, correcting himself. “Of course, not as obsessed as I am with your mother and with you.” He kissed the spot right under my belly button.

“Okay, where was I? Right, I am a bit obsessed with dragons...”

“A bit?” I pressed my lips together not to start laughing.

“Love, let me tell this story,” Charlie whined.

“Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” I ruffled his hair and nodded to make him continue.

“So, I was reading this book about dragons and some Slytherins came by to say hello in a bit of a rude way and your mother, amazing as she is, didn't like the way those students were talking to me and she drew out her wand and hexed them all to the ground and the look she was giving them scared them so much that they didn't leave their dormitory for a week!” Charlie gasped dramatically.

“That is not at all what happened.” I laughed wholeheartedly.

“Of course, it did! You're brain just remembers it differently because you're modest.” He smiled gently at me and sent me a wink.

“Your mum is a hero and never let her tell you otherwise, she just doesn't like to praise herself, so that's my job!” I grinned as he said those words, his eyes on my belly.

“And you're doing great and sorry to interrupt you but we have to go.” I cupped his cheek to make him look at me.

“But I was just about to tell them about Helga, the Giant Squid!” Charlie looked disappointed.

“And we would both just love to hear that story but we don't have time. We'll be late to meet the realtor.” I explained.

“That's not in another two hours.” Charlie swung his hand.

“Char, you have been telling stories for those two hours.” I giggled.

Charlie turned around to look at the clock on the wall.

“Blimey, I got a bit carried away again, didn't I?” His cheeks turned scarlet.

“No,” I shook my head, trying to get up, “I love how into your stories you get.”

He offered me his hand to help me stand up. It was already harder for me to get up and I still had so many months to go! I made my way to the bathroom. All I do all day is read baby books, listen to Charlie tell stories, and pee. Pregnancy isn't at all what I expected but not in a bad way – in a way, it's kind of fun.

“Okay, do you have everything?” Charlie asked as I walked down the stairs.

“I have to go pee one more time.” I smiled sheepishly, returning to the bathroom. “Didn't you pee five minutes ago?”

“Don't question the bladder of a pregnant woman, Charles,” I shouted from the bathroom.

“Fair enough.” I heard him giggle, waiting patiently for me to finish.

—

“I think this one will be more to your liking.” The realtor grinned at both of us before turning around and rushing to the building.

“And I think we should change the agent,” Charlie whispered to me looking a bit annoyed.

“One more house, one more chance.” I tried staying optimistic.

Honestly, I was only doing so to stop Charlie from hexing the man who was showing us houses. There are 3 wizard villages around the 3 kilometers radius of the Sanctuary and one Muggle one. We looked at 4 houses so far – one in each – and despite describing to the realtor in advance what we have in mind for our new home, the houses he showed us were nothing that we were hoping to see.

Charlie was getting annoyed, worried about me being on my feet and apparating as much as we did and I was losing all hope that we would be able to find a nice house so close to the Sanctuary. We both don't like to apparate so we wanted a place to live where we could easily walk to the Reserve.

Due to us having quite some money spared and both having a nice salary, Charlie insisted that I stay at home the second I started showing, due to how dangerous our job is. I tried protesting for about five minutes – missing my work due to being home because of morning sickness a lot already – but he didn't want to hear it and with all the years of being together I knew better than to argue with him.

Not that I have anything to complain about. Charlie makes me breakfast every morning before going to work. I mostly read during the time he is working because mum and Penny sent me so many books and the Ravenclaw in me was jumping from excitement. By my 5th month, I was so knowledgeable about babies and giving birth that I don't think I can get more ready. After Charlie comes home we eat dinner together and then we usually cuddle on the couch and tell each other about our day. He either tells the baby stories or we play a game where we try to guess who the baby will resemble more and of course, there's always the question will they like animals and beasts — more specifically dragons.

If I'm having a rough day – where everything irritates me and no matter how I sit or lay down I get uncomfortable – Charlie either massages my feet or my shoulders and brews me mint tea.

Because I was home alone for most of the day and I have a vivid imagination and know how to draw I made some sketches of our dream home. I also researched the villages around the Reserve and tried to get as much information for the realtor for him to have an easier job finding us the right home.

I know how much it means to Charlie that we stay near the Sanctuary and since I felt bad that he was working and I was just sitting at home, I wanted to do my best to make his wish to be near dragons a reality.

What the realtor showed us so far was crushing that. One house was half demolished and we would have to put in a lot of work to get it back in order despite us telling him that we want a completely furnished cottage-like house. The other one was about the size of our home now – which was the main reason we were moving in the first place and we said specifically that we wanted there to be at least three bedrooms as we weren't planning on moving again any time soon and we wanted to have more children.

The third one was empty and Charlie was sure it was haunted and the fourth one didn't have a single piece of wood in it and only a small window in the kitchen.

“Alright, one more and then let me hex him, please.” Charlie made puppy eyes.

“Deal.” I offered him my hand, a playful expression on my face.

“We are here!” The realtor turned to us, the proudest grin on his face.

“Wow.” Charlie and I said together.

“See, I told you you will like this one.”

He unlocked the front gate and rushed to the door of the house, or should I say manor.

“He is mental!” Charlie said through his teeth.

“Calm down, Char. Let's just look around and then get rid of him.” I whispered.

The house he thought so much would be to our liking was nothing like we hoped it would be.

“It has 5 bathrooms, 7 bedrooms, two gardens, and a pool!” The man almost jumped in the air.

“Great.” I forced a smile, looking up the tall ceilings of the dark room, feeling more like in prison than at home.

“I didn't know we apparated from Romania. Is this Azkaban?” Charlie tried lightening the mood, probably when he saw the disappointed expression on my face.

“7 bedrooms, what are we supposed to do with that? It looks nothing like a home and I most definitely can't picture us raising our children here. Imagine them running around and getting lost in their own home. How are we supposed to find them? Shout all around the house? It's not intimate, it's not family-friendly and it's cold!” Charlie's eyebrows came closer together with each sentence, gripping his wand.

“It's so big, I don't even know where that man is so that I could hex him!” He continued.

“Let's just go,” I suggested.

“What?” Charlie turned to me.

“Let's just leave him here. We don't know where he is anyway and before we find him we can already be halfway home if we walk.”

“But...” Charlie tried to protest.

I knew he wanted to shout at the man and probably wasn't joking about hexing him at this point.

“Char, please. I really have to pee and my feet are killing me.” I pleaded, hoping he would let this go.

“Okay.” He sighed. “But I am only doing this for you because you have to pee and I want to massage your feet.”

“Of course.” I nodded and gently entwined our fingers to pull him toward, what I hoped, was the right door to get out of here.

“Charlie, we have to apparate,” I said as we got out of the house after what seemed like 15 minutes spent in this labyrinth.

“No, love. You apparated enough as it is. Remember what the doctor said.” He gave me a warning look.

“But I need to pee and I can't hold it until we come home,” I whined, pressing my legs together.

“Okay, okay.” Charlie pulled me in a hug and started looking around. “There has to be a pub or a restaurant around here where you could go pee.”

“There!” I pointed at a sign that had a plate and a fork on it.

“Go, go, go. Find the bathroom and I'll explain to the staff why we came.” He gently pushed me toward the building.

I tried walking as normally as possible, me having to pee so badly that it hurt while avoiding eye contact with everybody inside the restaurant as I was hoping nobody would stop me. I spotted the bathroom sign at once and rushed inside.

Just as I was ready to head back out, drying my hands in a paper towel, I looked at the mirror and my eyes caught sight of something behind me. I turned around and looked through the bathroom window.

It wasn't just a house. It was a two-story wooden house. It didn't look too big and it had a For Sale sign in front of it!

I hurried out of the bathroom and found Charlie talking to the bartender, telling them why I needed to urgently use the bathroom.

“Thank you.” I smiled at them and pulled Charlie by his sleeve.

“Where's the rush, love? This place looks nice. Let me treat you to lunch. We haven't been on a date for a month.” Charlie bestowed me with one of those smiles that usually weakened my knees but I was so excited now that I couldn't let his charms work on me.

“Maybe later. I have to show you something.” I jumped a little, excitement in my voice.

“What?” Charlie got curious.

“Come with me.”

We exited the restaurant and started up the path to the hill where the house stood.

“Look!” I pointed at it as I finished explaining how I know about it in the first place.

“That looks promising.” Charlie gasped.

We knocked on the door but nobody answered. With one look at each other, we knew we have to see how it is inside. I don't know if it was the excitement in my chest or did I have a good feeling about this.

We knocked again and then tried the door. It was open.

“Just a quick peek and if we like it we go to the agency tomorrow,” Charlie said and I nodded.

It was perfect. It had big windows that let a lot of light in. It was completely furnished with modern yet minimalistic furniture. It had two bathrooms, a master bedroom, and three other rooms – just like we wanted. The kitchen with a big dining table. The living room was spacious with a very cozy sofa and a fireplace – something Charlie was hoping for because it reminds him of the Burrow. The walls were wooden but well isolated and there was even a small guest room on the lower floor.

I watched Charlie walk down the stairs as he finished looking at the upper floor and I couldn't help myself imagining him walking down those stairs every single day. I was ready to tell him that when I felt a weird tickling sensation on the inside of my belly. I narrowed my eyes, not really familiar with the feeling, when it happened again.

Before Charlie could ask me why I was making a weird face, my eyes widened as I realized what just happened.

“Oh, Merlin! Char, come here!” I motioned with my hand.

“What? What is going on? Is everything okay?” His eyes went from mine to my hands on my belly.

“I...I think the baby just kicked!” I exclaimed, moving my hands around to feel anything.

“No way!” Charlie gasped and kneeled before me.

“Yes, twice!”

Charlie didn't know what to do, he was shaking from excitement, looking at my belly as if the baby was about to wave at him.

“It happened again!” I was pretty sure that at this point, my eyes were sparkling.

“Can you feel it?” Charlie asked, hope in his voice.

“Put your hands on it. Maybe you can sense it.” I gestured for him to lift his arms and positioned his hands on my belly the second he did.

“There it was! Did you catch it?” I looked down at Charlie who was staring at my baby bump with his mouth slightly open.

“Char?” I tilted my head, rubbing circles on the back of his hands.

“I...”

“Did you feel it?” I lifted his chin gently so that our eyes met.

The second they did I knew he felt the baby kick because he was on the verge of tears.

“Nova, I felt it. I felt the baby kick!” He stood up so abruptly that I thought he was going to make us both stumble and he squeezed me in the tightest embrace, rocking us back and forth.

“This is a sign.” He whispered in my ear. “The baby likes the house, we have to go to the agency.”

“You want to live here, sweetheart?” I looked down at my belly as Charlie let me go and I felt another kick.

I didn't know if the kick was coincidental or if the baby could understand me, but I didn't care. I looked around one more time and I knew this was it. This was exactly what we were looking for.

“Who are you?”

We both jumped in the air, startled by the voice.

“We...we saw the sale sign and we...we wanted to look around. We...we didn't know anyone lived here.” Charlie stuttered, his cheeks bright red.

“There isn't anyone living here and the house is for sale. I'm the realtor.” The woman carefully took another step forward, offering Charlie her hand.

“Is it still available?” I couldn't hide the hope in my voice.

“It is.” The woman grinned when she saw how excited we were.

She showed us around and told us that the owner who built the house figured that the still life wasn't for him and decided to travel the world instead. She took us to see the garden which was perfect for children to play in. We felt as if we just got the best birthday surprise and without speaking I knew that Charlie already felt at home as much as I did.

However, our smiles were wiped off our faces the second the woman told us the price.

“That is a little bit out of our budget,” Charlie said to me when the realtor left us to discuss her offer.

“A little bit?” I sighed, disappointed.

“We can manage.” Charlie put his hands on my shoulders, making me look at him.

“Char, that's all our savings, and I won't make any money when I'm home with the baby, we can't be that reckless.” I shook my head.

Even though I was in love with the house, I knew we had to think reasonably.

“I'll work extra hours then.” Charlie offered.

“Char, we have to think with our heads here.” I pressed my lips together, to stop my jaw from trembling.

I couldn't stop myself from being so emotional. Of course, it was too good to be true. The house was exactly as we pictured it. I knew it was farfetched that we would get our dream home.

Charlie's brows furrowed when he saw the expression on my face, me obviously failing at hiding my emotions.

“Stay here.” He kissed my forehead and went outside.

I turned around to look at it one more time, to say goodbye to the house we could almost afford. I sighed and turned around to go outside. I stopped, however, when Charlie walked back in with the biggest grin on his face.

“Welcome home, love.” He cupped my face and kissed me hard on the mouth.

“Charles, what did you do?” I wanted to be angry with him so badly.

This was supposed to be a mutual decision and he wasn't thinking clearly, already being in love with this house. But at the same time, I couldn't blame him.

“I played the baby card.” He winked at me, looking proud of himself.

“What?”

“I told her that we can't afford it and asked if there is any way to lower the price a little bit. She asked me why we wanted the house so badly and I told her that we looked at so many today but that the baby kicked for the first time right in the living room and the woman melted when she saw me tear up, lowering the price to our budget!” Charlie jumped in his spot.

“No way!” I breathed. “Saying that I am pregnant, really does wonders!”

“I know!” Charlie lifted me and twirled me around.

“So, this is really our new home?” I asked one more time, the biggest smile on my face, my eyes glistening with tears.

“It's our home.” He kissed me on the nose and then leaned down to press his lips on my belly as well.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” He said with a shaky voice and rubbed my belly.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 31

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Taken a while to get here, huh? Officially less than 10 parts now though! If you enjoyed it, please reblog this and leaves me some comments or send me an ask. It helps to encourage me to get the motivation to write again :)

; Flower Masterpost

“Ow,” You whimper, wincing as the stiff fingers of the masseuse dug into a knot in your muscles. “I thought massages were supposed to be relaxing?”

The snort to your left comes from Chungha. You’d look over, but you’d learnt that the person working on you didn’t like that. Instead, you were stuck staring down at the floor through a cutout in the table. It wasn’t even hugely comfortable in this position, lying on your front and feeling like you had more in common with a corpse than a person.

“Sure they’re relaxing; if they’re coming from your boyfriend. But a real massage is only relaxing after the fact. Getting knots out of your muscles isn’t the most pleasant experience, as you’ve discovered.” She points out, causing you to pout at the floor. The masseuse doesn’t have any input to give, and you presume he’s used to hearing things like this.

“They make it look nice on tv and film.” The whine in your voice is apparent even to you, causing you to feel a little hot with embarrassment. You’d been flustered enough to find out that you would have to be almost naked for this massage, the very idea of having your body seen by a man other than Hoseok unnerving you. Until you’d seen how completely uncaring he was.

Soyeon had pointed out to you quietly that he’d probably seen more women’s bodies than a hundred men combined by now. Which was probably right, given he looked around 40. It made you feel a little better, but you still felt a little uncomfortable. This massage had better make you feel unbelievably relaxed to make up for all this pain.

Of course, your comment simply couldn’t be left alone, and Soyeon lets out a laugh from your right. “Yeah, and they also make it seem like a woman orgasms from three pumps every time. Curse the people who think it’s okay to put that in films and shows. The number of men who don’t even try anymore.”

You feel a little embarrassed at the subject, even if you know that Soyeon has never been one to censor herself. You and Chungha were now proudly in the knowledge that not only was Jungkook also bisexual like Soyeon but that they’d had a rather delightful threesome with a guy who had been in one of Jungkook’s classes last year.

She’d relished talking about it, and you couldn’t even ask her to stop out of worry for Jungkook; you’d experienced the fact that they seemed to be made for each other when Jungkook happily discussed his sex life with Hoseok when he came over. If it weren’t for the fact that you’d quietly texted Soyeon to ask if she was okay with him doing that and received an enthusiastic ‘hell yes and please give him tips’, you’d have been mortified to hear it.

Even Hoseok had been bemused that day, giving you looks as Jungkook had described in detail how he’d gotten Soyeon to fuck him with a strap on. An image you most definitely did not need in your head of your best friend and someone who was becoming a close friend.

But again, it didn’t surprise you. Soyeon was always the most open sexually and believed that something so natural to humans should be celebrated and enjoyed. You just told yourself repeatedly that you were just happy she’d found love with someone who had the same interests and desires as her.

Plus, Jungkook was a complete sweetheart outside of his sexual interests.

Still, there was something mildly mortifying about her saying something so casually in such a public place. Sure, there was only the three of you in here alongside the masseuses, but the point still stands.

“Anyway,” Chungha says loudly, distracting the conversation away from whatever Soyeon might have been about to follow up with. “Have I told you that Dahyun and I are going to be moving in together? She asked me last night, and I said yes. And before either of you ask, we’re moving into her place. Being a trust fund baby must be awesome as that house is huge.”

You want to desperately sit up and look at her, shock on your face as your eyes widen in surprise. Things between Chungha and Dahyun had been going well obviously, but you hadn’t expected them to be going this well. Okay, that sounds bad, but you didn’t mean it like that. Just that they’d made this decision much faster than you’d decided with Hoseok.

But again, you had to remind yourself that there was no such thing as ‘normal’ when it came to relationships. Everyone worked at their own pace. Above all that, you were just happy for Chungha. You were satisfied that she’d found someone to love and was making steps towards a possible future with them.

“Oh my god! Congratulations, I’m so happy!” You say excitedly, your words overlapping with Soyeon’s equally enthusiastic comments. It’s only the pressure on your back from the masseuse that means you stay in position, recognising the subtle ‘stop moving bitch’. Pulling a face that no one can see, you force yourself to remain calm and relaxed.

“When are you going to move? You should get the guys to help; I’m sure they’d be happy to.” Snorting, you smile to yourself as you hear the certainty in Soyeon’s voice. She’d become a lot closer to Hoseok’s friends than you had, given her effervescent personality and you had no doubt that even if they complained, they’d be doing what she wanted.

Jungkook was the baby of their friend group, and none of them seemed to want, or like, Jungkook being sad. Denying his girlfriend help when she asked would be a surefire way to make the adorable pout come out, so you did not doubt that they would be making their way to Chungha’s to move stuff.

That included Hoseok. It was incredibly amusing to you how a group of fully grown men were all so whipped for another grown man. Just because he had sweet eyes and the cutest whine. On second thoughts, you too would do anything Jungkook wanted to make sure he didn’t get upset.

How on earth Soyeon managed, you didn’t know.

“I can’t offer up help because Yeonnie has just done that, but I can like...help decorate or something. Even if Dahyun has been living there for a while, so I don’t know. Or maybe I can just be like moral support?” You were probably better for moral support. From what Chungha had told you before, you knew that Dahyun had been living in her ridiculously beautiful house since she finished college.

It had been a present from her parents for graduating, which completely blew your mind. Hoseok’s parents were very wealthy, but Dahyun’s were the kind that made your eyes widen when you saw what they considered a reasonable purchase.

Thankfully though, Dahyun was a sweet and kind girl who hadn’t turned out nearly as spoilt as she could have been. Instead, she’d started work at a low position at the broadcasting agency she worked at and was working her way up slowly. You liked her. And you would like her for however long she remained a good, loyal girlfriend to Chungha. That was your main concern as one of her best friends.

There was no doubt in your mind that both your best friends held the same opinion when it came to Hoseok. If he made one wrong move, then their ruthless side would come out. It’s what friends are for, after all.

“That’s fine. Dahyun has said that we can decorate the whole place, so it suits both of us instead of looking like her bachelorette place. Which I’m glad about because I fucking hate the kitchen. Why she let them paint it mint green, I don’t know. But I can’t stand it.” Chuckling, you try not to move too much so that you won’t annoy the man kneading your back.

“Does she...know your opinion on the kitchen? I mean...it’s her kitchen.”

“Yeah, but it was fucking ugly. She knows and doesn’t mind. Her mom was the one who had the place decorated at first, which explains why it looks like an interior designer's wet dream and has all the soul of my grandmother. That’s none, by the way. She’s a soulless husk of a woman sent by Satan, I’m sure. Dahyun is excited to get a choice in the decorating so...couple bonding, right?” You can hear the gentle note of confusion along with quieter uncertainty.

“I wouldn’t know, never lived with someone before. Y/N? As the only person here who has lived with a partner, is it normal to redecorate when moving in together?” Soyeon’s voice sounds curious, and you have a moment to wonder at it yourself.

The fact that you, out of all three of you, were the one who was now officially the most experienced in a relationship was bizarre. Not something you’d ever thought would happen. But then again, Chungha and Soyeon had been in longer relationships but hadn’t ever taken that next step; usually, because those relationships had petered out very quickly.

Still, you make noise without realising as you think. Scrunching your brow, you twist your lips and shrug, even though neither of them can see you.

“I mean...I don’t know? We redecorated everything, but that’s because we moved into a new place together. It’s not like he moved in with me or anything so like we had to. It doesn’t matter anyway, why are we talking about this? It’s not important! What’s important is that you’re happy. Happy enough to move in together!”

You’re pleased that the attention leaves you quickly when Soyeon agrees cheerfully, giving a few thoughts as to what colour scheme they could go for instead of whatever Dahyun has now. It makes you think about your kitchen. You and Hoseok had decorated it before actually moving in so that everything was ready, deciding on a more neutral scheme.

As a result, the cabinets on the walls and the countertops were a dark walnut while the units on the floor were an off white, all with rustic style handles. It was easy to understand Chungha’s excitement about being able to go wild with her new home; you’d enjoyed being able to turn the house into something that would become your home with Hoseok.

To say that you’d felt closer with him after that was an understatement. You felt like you’d been able to understand Hoseok a little better, getting to see into his mind and how he thought. Even though he’d mainly just let you decide on everything, he had given plenty of options, and you’d made sure to keep his opinions in mind when picking.

There was no chance for you to give this advice though as the massage finally ended and the three of you were left alone in the room. Wrapping the towel around yourself tightly, you stretched carefully and let out a small sound of wonder as you felt almost no tension in your muscles.

“You were right; I do feel good. Oh my god. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this relaxed before.” You almost purr, smiling at the other two. Soyeon accidentally flashes the two of you when she opens her towel to readjust it, revealing a slim and toned body that causes a small flash of envy within. But you push that thought away. The last thing you wanted was to get insecure over your own best friend.

Besides, she worked hard for her body. You were proud of her for it.

“Told you so. You should get one regularly; I promise that you won’t regret it,” Stretching her arms into the air, Soyeon grins at you before bringing one arm to her face, smelling the slightly shiny skin of her bicep. “And it leaves you smelling all nice too. If a tiny bit oily.”

“Yeah, I’m not really into the oily feeling.” You murmur, wrinkling your nose as you run your finger along your arm. The pad your fingertip slides easily, the massage oils that had been applied and carefully rubbed into your skin still a little slick. Though she was right, it did smell nice.

“Anyway, come on, you two. Let’s get our robes on and get these nails sorted! I’ve been dying for a pedicure for ages but held off when you invited me to this.” Chungha laments, lifting one delicate foot and wiggling her toes while she scowls at them. Chuckling, you follow along to the next item on your spa day itinerary, enjoying the fact you were spending time with your best friends while also pampering yourself.

“There’s not even four trillion bears on Earth, so how the hell would they manage to get to the sun?” The lakeside view is particularly beautiful right now, with the vibrant colours of sunset kissing the tops of the lush green trees that surround the crystal clear lake. Oranges clashed with reds before sinking into sultry pinks, mixing in a beautiful image that mirrors on the lake top.

It was almost pretty enough that you wouldn’t even realise the comment that had just been made by Jungkook. The only ones who’d come for this weekend break outside of you, Hoseok and the girls were Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi and Taehyung. Eden, Jimin’s fiancée, had to work a weekend shift and Namjoon was too busy with his kid and wife. You weren’t quite sure what Seokjin’s excuse was, to be honest.

All of the guys were currently sitting on the sandy beach that made up this end of the lake. It was entirely human-made and now and then there were fire pits and sectioned logs in circles for people to use. Unsurprisingly though, no one was sitting on one of those uncomfortable logs.

Instead, they were all sitting around on the sand with various brands of beer bottles stuck upright around them. They’d piled their empty bottles together into one of the beer boxes in an attempt to keep everything clean, and you nodded to yourself absentmindedly in approval at them keeping the space tidy.

“Fucking hell,” You hear Hoseok mutter, his colourfully tattooed arm on show as he rubs at his forehead. “It’s like I’m at home. This is something I end up talking about with Y/N.”

“Well, she’d be right. It’s an important question. The sun wouldn’t be able to fight off that many bears.” Jimin slurs slightly, his eyes squinting at the others and you realise he’s probably sauntering his way past tipsy and into a straight-out drunk. It explains why his question is said entirely seriously, and you can’t help the chuff of laughter that leaves you as you flop down into the sand beside your boyfriend.

He blinks at you for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair, the strands still a little wet from where he’d been in the lake earlier before he smiles at you sweetly. There’s a slight glaze to his eyes, and you recognise that he’s not drunk yet but instead just having a good time.

“He’s right; it’s an important question. However, the main problem here is that even with four trillion bears, the sun is still a giant ball of gas that’s on fire and is superheated to temperatures we can’t even comprehend. So, unfortunately, the bears would all die. Now, what we need to be doing is questioning how we can destroy the sun by cooling it?” You state, leaning against Hoseok’s body and enjoying the warmth from both him and the fire in the chill evening.

“Meeps, no...please no.” Hoseok whines softly, his chest vibrating against you and you laugh as you kiss his chin. He’s not being mean or anything; it’s just that he hears these kinds of conversations all the time with you. And he knows full well that once you start, you will happily keep talking until the topic ends up so bizarre that you’ll give even yourself a headache.

“Look,” Taking pity on him, you instead lean your head against his shoulder and flare out your fingers so he can see how pretty your nails look after your manicure. “They’re so nice until I bite them again and smell me! I smell so good, and I’m sooo relaxed.”

Chuckling, he takes care to make the right noises to you as he takes in the sight of your perfectly designed fingernails before having an obligatory sniff of your skin. A nod of approval is given to you before he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in even closer to his warmth. It’s beautiful and peaceful, with the soft sound of the waves lapping at the shore making an excellent background beneath the talk of everyone else.

Jungkook is currently in the process of pouting as Soyeon shows him her nails, her smile so pretty and her eyes so bright with happiness as he whines that he wants a manicure too. It makes you feel happy in turn to know that she’s content with herself and her relationship right now. She’d always been the wilder one out of you all.

“What have you guys been doing anyway?” You ask, the question louder than you intended and catching the attention of the others. Jimin goes to gesture towards you, only he’s not quite got the aim right, and he also doesn’t seem to realise he has a bottle in his hand.

As a result, half of the beer tips out and sloshes into the fire pit, the alcohol burning fiercely for a moment as his eyes widen and his lips form an ‘o’ shape of surprise. Yoongi snorts in amusement before carefully taking the bottle and placing it down next to him, looking over at you with long-suffering expression.

“We went quad biking earlier, and then we’ve just spent the afternoon in the lake. Swimming, fucking around. Even gotta go jet skiing. Your man made a rather spectacular re-entry into the lake. He can’t jet ski.” There’s a twinkle to Yoongi’s eyes as he glances over at Hoseok and you look up, your boyfriend's cheeks darkening slightly.

“'Apparently he can't jet ski'. Oh, I'm sorry. I must've missed that lesson in high school. What are you? A fucking Kardashian?” He mutters, lips puckering into a sweet pout and you giggle. Reaching forward, you accept the bottle of water that Chungha passes you from the blue cooler that had one of them had brought from one of the cabins you were all staying.

“With your parents and that education you had, I’m surprised you didn’t.” The snapback from Yoongi is quick, but you can tell he isn’t harsh. His small smile gives that away, and you can tell that Hoseok isn’t offended or anything. He’s way too relaxed against you.

“Sorry, between my fencing lessons and the lacrosse there just wasn’t enough time to fit the jet skis. Busy schedule, you know?” Snorting, you push at his side lightly while rolling your eyes. Everyone else seems to find his witty quip just as amusing, and there’s a wave of laughter that spreads around the others as they enjoy his easy-going comments.

Taking a sip of water, you relish the coolness of it and let out a small hum of appreciation. Hoseok hears you and looks over with a raised brow, lips quirking on one side before gesturing for him to have a drink. Without a word, you lift it to his mouth and carefully let him take a drink.

At least he was having something other than alcohol. Maybe you could even get him sober before bed if you tried hard enough.

“Ewww, you’re spreading germs.” Taehyung says quietly, his face wrinkled in disgust as he watches the two of you. Lifting a brow of your own at him, you can’t help but laugh at his reaction, mainly when Hoseok gives him a disbelieving stare of his own.

“You’re...that’s what you’re worried about? I don’t think a bit of shared germs between a couple is that big of a deal.” He mutters, rolling his eyes ever so slightly before accepting another drink when you lift the bottle back up to his mouth once more.

“It’s just...a bit gross.” The currently blonde-haired man pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and making his remarkably broad shoulders look incredibly small suddenly. You could tell he was a little embarrassed given the soft blush over his beautiful, golden cheeks.

Still, it makes Hoseok look at him with more than a little disbelief. Enough that it’s got everyone else giggling quietly as they have the same thought process that Hoseok is having.

“Tae...we’ve shared germs many times when kissing. If this shocks you,” He pauses dramatically. “Wait until you hear what we’ve done in the bedroom. You’ll be scandalised.” His words are so serious that you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from snickering, instead of cuddling closer into Hoseok’s firm warmth.

“Stop teasing him.” You mumble, pressing a small but loving kiss to his impressive jawline. Before you get any further, Jimin starts to make some loud comments. What they are, you’re not quite sure because he’s slurring even worse. Yoongi sighs deeply and stands, lifting the drunk man and holding him steady as he sways.

“I think that’s our cue to end the night here everyone. I’ll take Jimin back if you guys clean up here?” Everyone nods in acknowledgement, watching for a moment as Jimin staggers ahead of Yoongi up the small sandy beach. Chewing on the skin inside your mouth, you frown in concern at the slight figure.

“Does he always get this drunk?” It’s asked quietly, but everyone hears over the crackling fire as they shake their head negatively.

“Not always, it’s just because we’re away and he has no responsibilities. He likes a good drink now and then. Or a good night of drinking I guess it would be. Don’t worry; he also doesn’t suffer hangovers.” Taehyung states, leaning back against one of the legs and stretching with a groan.

“Asshole.” Hoseok mumbles quietly, causing you to grin. You knew very well that Hoseok got hangovers, the poor man. Shaking your head in amusement at the memory, you stand up and carefully brush off any annoying sand before looking around at everyone.

“Come on then, let’s clean up. I want to see how good of a sleep I can get now I’m all relaxed.” Exaggeratedly rolling your shoulders, you smile as you manage to make them all laugh before they finally bring themselves to stand up as well.

It takes no time at all to clean up the small area that the guys have been occupying for a few hours now. The recyclable bottles are split into plastic and glass and disposed of in the appropriate bins nearby. At the same time, Jungkook puts the fire out carefully, making sure that there are no lingering embers that might cause it to spark.

Hoseok is carrying the cooler, now obviously lighter given the way he playfully lifts it like he’s at the gym. Though it could be heavy, he has been working out a lot lately. He likes the relief it gives him and helps him to destress.

Perhaps most surprisingly, you’ve been going with him. You still hate the knowledge that he’s seeing you all super sweaty, stinky and gasping for breath. Surprisingly though, you often feel quite invigorated with him there. Like he’s some barrier to any of the negativity that might be thrown your way by others.

It was probably silly. But you’d told him plenty of times that he made you feel safe, and that included being in an environment that had historically made you unhappy and self-conscious. There was something different about being there with someone who found you attractive anyway.

“Getting my gains for the day,” Hoseok smirks, letting out an exaggerated ‘oof’ of effort as he lifts and lowers the cooler. “Can’t forget arm day, even on vacation.”

Watching him for a moment, you shake your head before letting your smile take over. You’d discovered over the past year and a half that it was impossible not to be endeared by him. Somehow, he always found the right thing to say to make you smile.

It made being annoyed over something he’d done very frustrating because you’d regularly find yourself laughing at him. But at the same time, you loved that about him. He knew that you were easily lured into a negative headspace and that you didn’t like confrontation, so he always tried to keep things positive for you.

“Come on, Popeye, I’m hungry. They only had rabbit food at the spa. Which is great because it’s healthy and everything, which I’m all for. But I’m on a mini-vacation. I don’t wanna eat lettuce and cucumber. I wanna eat greasy crap that I will regret for a solid week after.” Whining, you slip around to his other side and link your fingers together with his free hand.

“You’re gonna complain to me in five days that you’ve put on some invisible weight.” His voice takes on a sing-song note as he teases you, causing you to poke at his side while glaring at him.

“That’s a problem for us in five-days, it’s not a problem for us now. Right now, I want some damn pizza or something. Do we have pizza in the cabins? Or can we order some?” Peppering the questions at him, he shakes with laughter slightly before tugging at your hand until you’re facing him.

Playfully, you avoid his affection as he tries to kiss you, causing him to whine quietly every time you shift back. Grinning at him, you take him in for a moment and simply pause, your heart warming with love as you see the sad pout on your tall, tattooed and pierced 29-year-old boyfriend. He’s got a slight tan from the day’s activities, the sun still strong enough as the year eases to autumn.

Giving in, you simply hold still when he leans slightly towards you. Upon seeing you’re not pulling away this time, he’s a little more forceful and presses a short but sweet kiss to your lips. It’s probably not what anyone would have expected given how much he’d been trying just now, but it was enough for you.

“Hey! Stop sucking face and come here already! Jungkook ordered enough pizza to empty Naples for us from some local pizza place so hurry up.” Soyeon’s shout interrupts you both, causing you to look over to where she’s standing on the porch of the cabin you’re sharing with her and Jungkook.

Grinning brightly, you nod and give her a thumbs-up as she stands with her hands on her hips, no doubt glaring at you both for being so far behind everyone else and wasting time. However, she should be okay with it all really, given what you knew about Jungkook and her.

“Sometimes, I think you and Kook are the same person. You’re far too similar.” Hoseok whispers, kissing your forehead affectionately before beginning to walk towards the cabin once more. Looking at him, you raise a brow and tilt your head in silent questioning.

“Food on the mind.”

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peachmusesa · 3 years

Text

@charaisuke / CONTINUED.

love and being in love were two distinctive words plus state of mind. love, o’ that is not a feeling, certes, love is what one does in spite of how they feel. it's what one does for another despite being wholly aware the courtesy will not, if ne'er, reciprocal. love is giving, even though the person receiving it will never value the sacrifice you did and will keep on taking. love doesn't always feel fuzzy and warm. sometimes it resolves to a sharp and constant pain. watchful nights wherein slumber is lacking as a blizzard with its webs of gossamer frost would crawl e'er so slowly within our essence,'till our the entirety of our being would captive, prisoner of its grasp, for fear would be the sole thing all could feel. fear to be abandoned, replaced or not being enough for the ones our heart — the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure — love is not always bright. moreover, being in love is not just a state or a mere sentiment — being in love... it's akin to being nude fore the eyes of so many. this horrific and dreadful state one refer as : vulnerable. when nude, one is, in that moment, more vulnerable to harm and coerced control. thus, the noble, the good of heart, should make sure that when they talk they reduce fear, that they take actions that neutralize fright and restore proper healthy functioning. because when vulnerable, we are the true reflection of our essence, our heart is too busy to unveil secrets rather than protect and guide its owner.

now, was this philander ever found in such state? admittedly, he had. he had known love, he knew it was all about comfort and protection, it was nurture and acceptance. it was calm and passionate. it was stoic and spontaneous. it was generous and forgiving, a steady ship into any horizon. but the love he encountered was a taker and a giver, the giver, he, as the bucket of water and the taker poking new holes in the vessel, quenching their thirst. the love he had known was painful. so long did it take him to realize there was a difference between symbiosis and a parasite because this love was a living organism that lived on his benefits by deriving his essence at his expense. hence his feature contorted into a flinch whilst a sentiments of guilt and severe ignominy tumefied within his being, for he was cognizant of his mistakes, naïveté and grand lack of prudence conjoined with sageness in apropos of such matter. love and trust.

“ i... ” he first muttered, his hesitancy apparent within his mobility, for his equipoise shifted, weight going from one foot to the other. “ i didn't know you were curious about such thing, ino. why are you interested? ”

ino hadn’t expected the answer she received , blonde brows furrowing. she looks around the street for a moment and decides that it was not a good position to actually have a conversation about love. not here , not in the open area where any of his fangirls -- or worse , hinata-chan , could hear her. or even sakura-chan. her lips come together to frown before she grabs his arm and hauls him into her shop , “ make yourself comfortable , sasuke-kun. ” it’s the most aggressive she’s ever been - at least to her friends ; and she busies herself with flipping her open sign to closed. “ i didn’t want anyone else listening to me. ” she explains before locking the door. with those finally done , she moves and gestures for him to follow her up to her apartment where she then busies herself in the kitchen pouring herself a glass of mint tea, “ would you like something to drink sasuke-kun? ” she pauses, “ i know i’ve kind of just dragged you away , i hope i’m not taking up your time -- or that you were doing anything of importance , but --- i felt you would have much more knowledge on the topic than i would. ” she pauses, pulls her glass closer to her after passing him some mint tea if he wants it, and moves to place herself on a black velvet couch. “ i haven’t ever been on a date , you know ? ”

#charaisuke #ic ⸺ ino.#:)

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martialstories · 3 years

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Tape to tape - Chap. 2

Coops - High School AU

All credits for the world & the characters for @lumosinlove. I’m kind of sad that SW is ending but luckily there’s still Coast to coast left and 12 days of ficmas isn’t far away.

I wrote this fic(of a fic) before the last chapter was out. In case someone hasn’t read it yet, I won’t tell any details but I have to admit that the ending was far better than I could have hoped for. I was literally jumping up and down after reading that❤️

Happy reading!

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Tw: child abuse (not direct but definitely implied)

In the three months that Sirius had known Remus they had gotten pretty close. Sirius had to admit that he enjoyed being with Remus but he was rather surprised that Remus seemed to also like his company. You see, Remus was one of those people who was rather popular with his peers. Remus had adjusted to the team quickly and found his place easily. Of course there were some people who didn’t like him but he didn’t care about them. Luckily Remus had found his place within the better people in Sirius’s opinion.

Sirius on the other hand couldn’t usually come along with people like him. Or rather people like him didn’t like Sirius’s closed off nature. Remus seemed to be an exception. They had spent a lot of time with each other in practice and school as they shared the same French class and usually paired together in training and he hadn’t (yet) gotten sick of him.

Autumn was finally starting to blend into winter with temperatures dropping and sun rising later each day. This also meant Sirius’s birthday was getting closer. He didn’t really enjoy his birthday as it didn’t come with any special occasion in his family. Somehow his parents seemed to be even more annoyed by him around his birthday which resulted in Sirius getting a few punches more than usually. Especially his father seemed to consume rather impressive amounts of alcohol around this time as well.

Previous years he hadn’t had anyone who genuinly wanted to wish him happy birthday and pay attention towards him. Of course his teammates wished him happy birthday but they didn’t really notice his sullen mood and certainly didn’t bug him about it.

”Sirius, are you sure you are okay? It’s just that you seem a little quieter today than you usually are.” Sirius was stretching in the gym with Remus. They had already figured this routine that worked well for them. They both liked to stay and stretch well before showering so why not do it together?

”Yes. I’m fine.” Sirius answer came out maybe a little harsh but on his defence he was tired and just wanted to get to his bed and sleep. This wasn’t the first time Remus had asked the question and somehow it was getting harder and harder not to lose his temper.

”Okay, I believe you. I was thinking, we could maybe do the run together that we are supposed to do over the weekend. Since your birthday is on Sunday maybe tomorrow?” Remus asked.

”I think you should go alone this weekend. I’m going to be pretty busy.” Sirius said while l lying on his back and stretching his thigh.

”Oh. That’s alright.” Remus sounded a little upset and they sat in silence for a few moments.

”Are you really fine Sirius? I mean you just seem-”

”YES! I am fine, Remus! Just stop asking. Please.” Sirius let out a shout. He closed his eyes and sighed little. What are you doing? He is just worried. Sirius rose from the ground and walked to the locker room for the showers. He hoped Remus would say something but the silence wasn’t broken.

One shower later Sirius packed up his gear and headed outside. After a quiet drive Sirius opened stepped inside his home. He tried to be as quiet as possible getting to his room but apparently he wasn’t quiet enough. He heard his father calling for him from his office. Sirius knew he had no choice as he slowly turned and headed for the office.

When Sirius gained his consciousness the first thing he registered was how much his head was pounding. The second thing was how his back ached. The third thing he registered was the bunch of little sniffs he was hearing. He felt how something tickled his nose.

Sirius opened his eyes to see a tiny black puppy with wet eyes on his bed with him. It was sniffing at him before it curled up next to his head. They looked at each other for a while before Sirius properly processed what he was seeing. He slowly raised his hand to pet the little ones head. The puppy let out a tiny whine and pushed against his hand.

After a few pets Sirius started to wonder how the puppy had gotten there. That startled him awake. He was sure that he had locked his door before he had passed out here.

He rushed to turn around to see the whole room and search for any danger. When he looked at the door it was still closed and locked. Wait. Can this puppy teleport or something?

In the soft glow of the desk lamp Sirius’s eyes landed on the boy sitting on his desk looking at him. He frowned. How did Remus get in here?

”If you are wondering how I got here, I climbed through your window. And no, no one saw me. It is already dark outside.” Remus said quietly.

Sirius coughed before answering. ”I see.”

Remus looked at Sirius face. Sirius knew that he propably looked bad. He could tell that he had at least a black eye and his lip was split. There might be other bruises but he wasn’t sure.

Remus got up from his place on the table and walked into Sirius’s bathroom. Sirius could hear the sink being turned on and a while later Remus emerged with a wet cloth in his hand. He sat next to Sirius, scooped up the puppy from his side and dumped it onto Sirius’s lap.

”It wants attention. Can you pet her?” Remus asked as he raised the cloth to wipe at Sirius’s lip. Sirius’s breath hitched at the contact but he still started to pet the little puppy on his lap.

They stayed quiet while Remus cleaned his face from blood. After he was done he got up to take the cloth back to the bathroom. Sirius concentrated on the puppy and holding it close.

”You don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to lie to me, but remember that I am here.” Remus said quietly when he came back. Sirius lifted his gaze from the floor to see Remus looking at him.

”I- umm…” Sirius hadn’t talked about this before with anyone. He trusted Remus with his whole heart but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bear Remus with the knowledge of it.

”I’m not sure if I can.” Sirius’s voice was shaky when he spoke.

Remus nodded understanding. ”You don’t have to. But if you change your mind I’ll be here. Always.”

”Thank you Remus.” Sirius scooted to lay against the wall with the puppy on his lap. It had gotten comfortable to Sirius’s presence by now so it was play-attacking his hand and whipping its tale around uncontrollably. He felt the bed dip with Remus weight as he got up to retrieve something from his jacket’s pocket.

While Remus wasn’t looking at him, Sirius let himself tear up a bit. He finally felt like the universe was paying back for all the shit it had given him over the years. He had finally found someone who cared about him, and who Sirius cared for as well. He hadn’t known this was something he needed but now that he had it he didn’t know how he had survived without it. Now he couldn’t help but dream about more.

Sirius quickly wiped his eyes as Remus sat next to him. He took the puppy from him but exchanged it with a little present.

Sirius’s eyes shot up. ”Happy birthday Sirius.” Remus said with a small smile.

”Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Sirius answered little unsure of how to handle this situation. He hadn’t received gifts in years.

”I know but I wanted to. Now, go on. Open it.” Remus assured Sirius while holding eye contact.

Sirius whispered an okay and proceeded to carefully unwrap the present. He let out a wet laugh when he saw that the wrapping paper was hockey themed.

Inside the wrapping paper Sirius discovered three chocolate bars. One was regular, other one was dark chocolate and the third one was filled with mint chips. Sirius was tearing up again.

”I wasn’t sure what you liked but I thought, how wrong can I go with chocolate?” Remus laughed a little worried as Sirius didn’t say anything. ”These are from my favourite brand. If you like these, we’ll have to try their special winter edition. They change the formula every year, you know. I heard rumours that this year they’d do one with gingerbread.” Remus started rambling as Sirius still just stared at the chocolates.

”I- Thank you, Remus. This is the best present I have ever gotten.” Sirius glanced at Remus.

Remus flushed a little. ”Oh. Well good. Though I doubt this is the best one you’ve got-”

”Trust me. It is.” Sirius said and opened the regular chocolate bar. He broke off two pieces and handed one to Remus.

After they had eaten a couple pieces in silence Sirius opened his mouth looking at the puppy now asleep on Remus’s chest. ”So. I didn’t know you had gotten a puppy.”

Remus petted the puppy and smiled. ”This one actually isn’t our own. You know my parents are vets, right?” Sirius nodded. ”Well, now that we have fully adjusted to life here they have gotten back to their usual antics. When we lived in the States they used to bring sick animals and ones that needed to be fostered back home all the time. They had to take a brake from that hobby for a while but yesterday they brought this little guy home. He was found on the side of a highway abandoned.” At that Sirius frowned worriedly and Remus grabbed the puppy gently and laid it on Sirius chest. The puppy nuzzled contedly and fell back asleep.

”After I couldn’t reach you all day I decided to come check on you. When I got up to leave she woke up as well and wanted to come outside with me. I didn’t want her to wake the whole house up with her small barks so I just scooped her up and put her in my pocket for the walk.” Remus told him.

”My phone must have died. I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I didn’t know you even wanted to reach me.” Sirius muttered.

Remus shook his head. ”If you think I the little argument we had after practice is enough to scare me away, you are very wrong. And stop apologizing. It’s not your fault.”

”I’m sorry, I’ll stop-” Sirius was quick to apologize.

”Sirius!”

”I’m sorry- NO, I mean okay. I’ll stop.” Sirius stammered.

Remus laughed a little. ”Okay. Good.”

They continued talking for about half an hour after that. They talked mostly about puppies to avoid any uncomfortable subjects. The clock was nearing 3 a.m.

Sirius yawned loudly.

”I think I should go. We should both propably get some sleep.” Remus yawned as well.

Sirius stretched under the covers. ”We propably should.” And threw his hand over his eyes.

Remus rose from his place where he was sitting on top of the covers. Sirius watched him walk over to his desk and put his jacket on. After that he reached inside his pocket where he pulled a dark brown beanie that he put on his head.

Remus turned around eyeing Sirius suspiciously. ”Where is the puppy?”

Sirius cracked a smile at that. ”I don’t know what you are talking about. I haven’t seen any puppies lately.”

Remus walked over to him and suspected his form beneath the covers. Sirius knew what he was looking for but he still blushed a little. Remus grabbed one corner of the blanket covering Sirius and yanked it off of him. Sirius quickly turned to cover the puppy sleeping near his side. Sirius started to laugh as Remus tried to reach the puppy but ended up tickling him. Remus smiled brightly at the sound but despite that he dove on top of Sirius to reach the puppy. He managed to grab her and turned with a wolfy grin towards Sirius. They both froze at that since their noses were almost touching each other.

”You found the puppy.” Sirius breathed out.

”That I did.” Remus said as he rose from the bed. He composed himself quickly before turning back towards Sirius who was pulling the covers back on. Remus held the puppy in front of Sirius’s face and smiled a little. ”Say bye. Now you’ll at least have a reason to start visiting.”

The corners of Sirius’s mouth lifted as he looked at the puppy. ”True. I’ll have to come see this little one.”

Remus slid the puppy into one of his coat’s inside pockets and walked up to the window. On the way he shut off the lamp leaving the room to be lighted up by the moon. He opened the window and raised one of his legs onto the other side.

Sirius took a breath in. ”Remus, thank you. For the chocolate. And for bringing the puppy.”

”It’s alright. I hoped you’d like them.” Remus said quietly. ”Good night. Text me when you wake up.” ”Good night.” Sirius whispered as Remus climbed out the window and slid it shut. Sirius burrowed deeper underneath the covers and let his eyes close. In the quiet darkness Sirius noticed how he could still smell the puppy and a slight tint of chocolate.

That night Sirius didn’t dream of pain and flying punches but of brown curls peaking out beneath a beanie and small puppies. When he woke up he wasn’t sure if last night was real but at the sight of chocolate on his desk he let out a relieved sigh.

Chocolate really is good no matter what time you are eating it. He thought as he munched on a piece while texting Remus.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #sweater weather #high school au #puppylove #wolfstar

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cynthiaandsamus · 2 years

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Custom Toonami Block Week 94 Rundown (Valentine’s 2022 Edition)

Uzaki-chan Wants to Hang Out!: So this is the only one on this list I’ve actually seen a few episodes of so I’m not starting from zero here. Sakurai has a dream in class about trying to rescue a cat and falling off a building because cats hate him and they’re a weird recurring thing in this series like rabbits in the Simpsons. Anyway this of course results in Uzaki teasing him both for falling asleep in class and about the dream meaning which results in him coming back with shit like “If you keep falling down the stairs you’ll get a complex and never be able to climb stairs again” which is probably a fair back and forth. Sakurai’s friend Sakaki returns from his random cross-country trip and Uzaki is surprised that Sakurai actually has a second friend and wasn’t just lying to her. Sakaki is all “Y’all fucking or what?” and seems to buy into a more direct intervention on shipping Uzaki and Sakurai (because the whole damn town ships them apparently) and this puts him in contrast with Ami who wants to observe and let things progress naturally like she’s watching a tv show. Meanwhile Sakurai wisely excuses him and Uzaki before this argument starts and gets Uzaki some ice cream which is honestly pretty cute that he knows he can placate her to get them out of a sticky situation. Still she gets chocolate minit dippin’ dots ice cream and this becomes a whole tumblr rant about how chocolate mint lovers are the most persecuted minority on the planet and it’s really pretty fucking funny how Uzaki gets Higurashi eyes from this and a standing ovation because this is a college campus and seeing a busty girl willing to die on the most random hill is just kind of a normal occurrence. Anyway they share the ice cream and do the whole ‘oh no indirect kissing’ thing cliché anime likes to do that was a lot more effective in the early 2000s when that part of Japanese culture was more of a novelty but it’s kind of tired to come back to now that romance anime is basically porn with extra steps. Still though, Uzaki herself is weirdly charming and as far as bitchy girlfriend serieses go it’s kind of cute because she’s so damn ineffective at actually teasing anyone that isn’t the incredibly irritable guy she likes and is generally well-meaning enough that it doesn’t come off as abusive like some tsundere pairs go, all in all it’s pretty good fun.

Don’t Tease Me Nagatoro-san!: Wow this one couldn’t be more different from Uzaki-chan, even if they’re technically in the same weirdly specific bitchy girlfriend teasing a bland guy genre, the first five minutes of this are shot like a horror anime and while Sakurai and Uzaki have at least some back and forth where Sakurai can hit back against Uzaki’s innocence, this is just twenty minutes of Nagatoro punching play-doh, not even really gonna recap the plot because that’s basically the one joke the whole time it’s like the Pop Team Epic “Are you upset?” sketch over and over again and this dude is just cringe enough to fall into Nagaotoro’s knowledge of tropes but not interesting enough to push back at all. Also I’m watching the dub for all of these that I can and the voice acting on Nagatoro is honestly pretty good, she’s got that weird condescending tone and it fits really well. Idk if I could really watch the whole thing, Nagatoro herself is pretty fun but watching this dude get bullied and abused over and over and kind of like it but also not be masochist enough to ACTUALLY like it makes it really kind of cringe to sit through, the MC just kinda kills it for me. I’d really just rather watch MM! because at least that dude’s an actual masochist and Tarou Sado is one of my favorite protagonists in one of these kinds of shows because he’s a genuinely nice and straightforward guy but also a goofy masochist and the fact that this dude’s an artist legit making a self-insert comic where this series originated as a self-insert comic about a presumed adult wanting to get bullied by high school gyarus just reminds me of Jon Arbuckle being a cartoonist and it’s just a little on the nose, idk how I feel about this one.

Komi-san Can’t Communicate: So that thing I said in the Uzaki recap was a small lie, I’ve technically only seen the episodes for Uzaki-chan but I HAVE read the first volume of the Komi-san manga, but this is my first experience with the anime. And holy shit is it gorgeous, like fucking hell this show is beautiful, the aesthetic seems pretty similar to A Silent Voice (ironically enough given Komi’s predicament) and the extra flourishes the anime puts in and the way they play with the narration and visuals is honestly fantastic. The scene of Komi and Tadano building their relationship little by little by writing on the chalkboard is just as fantastic if not moreso than it was in the manga. Also for as boring as the other male protags are in the former two shows, Tadano is pretty good for a white bread protagonist guy, like he’s in the vein of “I’m an average dude doing average things” but he’s one of those protagonists that actually sell him being a good person, for all his jokes about not being able to read a room he’s the one to pay enough really attention to Komi to see her problem and be patient enough with her to help her solve it, like the man has the patience of a saint to wait for Komi to take baby halfsteps towards communicating and his intentions are entirely pure, Tadano really is a good boy and after my mixed feelings on some of the other shows I can say this one is really fantastic and probably has the best chance of me continuing watching after this.

The Girl Who Can See “Them”: So this one definitely changed up the pace a little, Miko is an average girl who no one understands (okay I swear I start off every new series like that but most of the time it fits) but yeah most of this is Miko hardly reacting to things and paling around with her big titty friend Hana who’s basically Orihime and would probably be the protagonist of one of these other shows, but then Miko starts seeing ghosts and… continues not reacting to things. It’s this strange clash of tones between the weird fanservice shots combined with the Discount Junji Ito style monsters and Miko’s absolute poker face of freaking out internally but playing it off like nothing like a boss because she thinks that 1. Admitting to ghosts that she sees them prolly isn’t good and 2. If she acknowledges this in any way she prolly had to accept she’s going insane. It’s really pretty good character stuff because she thinks this through in an instant and is just like ‘nope’ like that comic of the girl who runs through her life saying no to every protagonist role she’s offered. I think this awkward mix of tones can be a bit weird but I also think that’s exactly what they were going for so can’t really fault it for that. It’s hard to get a read on from just one episode but it is really funny to try and watch Miko poker face her way through being the Sixth Sense kid.

My Dress-Up Darling: Okay so this one doesn’t have the same fantastic theming as Komi-san but it’s still relatively decent for this genre of ‘normal guy slowly dates the most popular girl in class for no reason’ deal. Like it has some good theming with Gojo being a weirdo who talks to inanimate objects like Bob fucking Belcher and Marin also being a weirdo but being interested in what makes other people passionate and being very passionate herself. It sort of implies that Gojo’s eccentric interests aren’t what isolates him but it’s that he gives up before he even tries to connect with anyone since Marin is also a freak but is an outgoing freak so people gravitate to her (being hot also probably helps). But it’s just interesting after going through three series where the protag’s like “Oh I’m a nobody and have no friends until this hot girl sweeps me up” that this one kind of calls out their protag for not even trying before. Like Marin’s one stage of cringe away from wearing an ahegao shirt in public but she’s so enthusiastically open to everyone it makes you want to be open to her too (again, being hot also helps). But yeah it’s not exactly great art or anything but it’s probably the best of the three of the Uzaki/Nagatoro/Marin trilogy, it also helps that it seems to be one of those anime that actually knows what it’s talking about with its hyperfixation like Food Wars for Food or Dr. Stone for science and I always appreciate seeing what anime authors randomly know a ridiculous amount about so if I continue this one we’ll see.

Dirty Pair: So this is definitely the strangest most out of place show on the block today but ngl I did enjoy it. The plot jumps around a lot but the Lovely Angels themselves are full of personality and a lot of fun. Kei and Yuri are a pair (a Dirty Pair if you will) of general-purpose problem solvers IN SPACE, which sounds like the premise for an Adult Swim show but that’s kind of thing that was done in the eighties I guess, also they have a pet bear for some reason and a robot that flies their ship that looks like a pink Imperial Shuttle crossed with a dildo. Essentially the supercomputer that runs this city has gone all Hal 9000 when it discovers they put a killswitch in it and is now just kinda wrecking up the place and holy shit a lot of people are just definitely dead because there’s floods and fires and shit falling apart all over. So after climbing around the wreckage for a while, Kei and Yuri get to their ship and distract the computer by… I shit you not, having it calculate which of them is the better waifu, which takes this advanced supercomputer that manages a whole fucking city SEVERAL MINUTES to figure out, which I just fucking find hilarious. Also they have the warp station just warp a whole garbage ship directly into the computer’s mainframe to get it to shut down which I guess the girls didn’t do anything but think of the idea but it’s still a fun solution in the “getting dust on the motherboard breaks the computer” way of thinking with the way computers were back then or how they thought they would be in the eighties. All in all this show DEFINITELY shows its age but it’s still a good amount of fun to watch these quirky girls do shit for a little bit.

Why The Hell Are You Here Sensei!?: How the fuck is this series real? Like I though ‘haha I ended last year’s marathon with Interspecies Reviewers, might as well watch something a bit raunchy to end this year too’ and FUCK how is this series WORSE than that!? Like I’ve seen some fanservice shots from this series on tumblr but I didn’t know that basically WAS the series, like I guess the nude version inside cover of the DVD should’ve tipped me off but lost of anime are really raunchy these days but this show is basically hentai setups without the fucking, somehow I feel dirtier watching this show than Interspecies Reviewers which was actually taken off the air for basically being a porn, though I feel like that had more plot (albeit more directly sex-focused) than this which is basically ‘here’s a porn scene except no dick or pussy” like dude legit sticks a suppository in her pussy and they pee on each other, and THIS ONE STAYED ON AIR AS FAR AS I KNOW. Like I know it was heavily censored on-air and all but holy shit I’m still baffled by how the fuck this is a real show. It’s hard to praise or condemn it because there’s just… nothing here, like it’s basically just watching the parts of porn that most people fast forward through, I mean gotta give it them they have a market for it but like… wow… just wow.

Anyway that’s the end of this marathon, gonna watch The Girl Who Leapt Through Time on Monday and then it’s back to the regular schedule next week. Boy this was a roller coaster, most of these seires I hadn’t seen much of so I didn’t know what to expect. Uzaki-chan was fun enough, Nagatoro was kind of cringe just because of the subject matter, Komi-san was fantastic, Mieruko-chan was weird but fun, Dress-Up was cute enough if a little average, Dirty Pair was really outdated but a fun little romp back at how waifu anime worked forty years ago and Sensei… holy fuck I still can’t get over that, anyway hope everyone had fun watching me slowly become more and more unhinged over waifu anime.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

#ooc #Toonami #Custom Toonami Block #uzaki-chan wa asobitai!#ijiranaide nagatoro san #komi-san wa communication shougai desu.#mieruko-chan #sono bisque doll wa koi wo suru #Dirty Pair #nande koko ni sensei ga!?#uzaki-chan wants to hang out #Don't Toy With Me Miss Nagatoro #Komi Can't Communicate #My Dress-Up Darling #Why the Hell are you here Teacher!?

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aer-in-wanderland · 3 years

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구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Lost in Translation EP02

Back by, possibly not popular, but certainly very enthusiastic demand: my sister’s and my continued adventures in mistranslation and cultural subtext. You can find EP01 here. Buckle up and settle in for another monster post because, wow, a lot happened in this episode. Contains spoilers.

Prologue

We open with a sweeping view of Baekdudaegan as Yeon narrates about his past as the god who presided over it. For context, Baekdudaegan is the biggest and most famous mountain range in Korea, taking up an enormous swath of the Korean peninsula (to the extent that it’s often referred to as its ‘spine’ or ‘backbone’). So Yeon wasn’t lying when he said he was a ‘major’ mountain god. ;)

Yeon: You could say these were my Leeds Days. I was the master of Baekdudaegan, a mountain god who controlled the wind and rain,* and a gumiho who was, from the start, of a different caliber than the mongrel foxes you see in Hometown of Legends. ...Or, I was.”

[*Note: Can also be taken to mean ‘the natural elements’ in general.]

When Yeon refers to his ‘glory days,’ the term he uses is ‘Leeds Era’ (리즈시절). Originally a sporting term for the height of a footballer’s career, in Korean, the expression has come to be used to describe a person’s bygone glory days. The modern figure of speech (complete with English loan word) makes for a funny counterpoint to the Yeon we see on screen and recalls the mint-chocolate loving American TV show enthusiast we’ve known him as so far.

The other modern reference he makes is to Hometown of Legends (전설의 고향), which has been the title of numerous dramas and movies (1977-2018) centered around Korean myths and legends. This is basically the equivalent of an alien referencing the X-files. Overall, the narration serves to remind us just how modern our gumiho has become and clashes humorously with the visual onscreen.

Yeon’s above narration concludes with the first appearance of little Ah Eum, who immediately proceeds to pet the mighty master of Baekdudaegan as if he were her pet dog pfft (thus the ‘....or I was.’)

As an aside, tvN released some backstory information revealing that Ah Eum had gone to find Yeon in order to pray for rain. Which means she pet him in spite of that lol We also know from the past-life sequence in episode 10 that she had actually been warned never to venture anywhere near his mountain because a 1000 year old gumiho lived there. It’s almost as if her guardians don’t know her at all...

For anyone keeping track, Ah Eum uses banmal with Yeon from the very beginning. We find out why later. As a princess (even one who had been discarded), she’s used to outranking everyone around her and therefore speaking almost exclusively in banmal. To be fair, with her temperament, Yeon being a 1000+ year old mountain god probably just wasn’t enough to get him an automatic pass from her. Point for Ah Eum/Ji Ah character continuity.

Yeon: If I could rewrite* my past just once, I would return to this moment without hesitation. So that that child could never find me.

[*Note: Literally, ‘A/S my past,’ which I’m pretty sure has its roots in computer usage. So again, thoroughly modern vocabulary from the former master of Baekdudaegan.]

We transition from young to grown Ah Eum with a sweep of the Red Umbrella. According to tvN again, this umbrella was actually a gift from Ah Eum to Yeon, and it’s also the same umbrella Yeon still carries everywhere. It’s somewhat poetic, then, that it was this umbrella that lead Ji Ah to him. So, a meaningful item on multiple fronts.

Yeon: Some called it, ‘the scandal of the age that shook Baekdudaegan.’ To think, a mountain god who had given his heart to a human... Nowadays, it would have felt like a disciplinary hearing, but I didn’t care a whit. I liked her [presence] permeating my woods.

As you might have guessed, this love story ends in tragedy. Someone stole her life. Once she crossed the River of Three Crossings, I would never be able to see her again. I couldn’t hold on to her, but nor could I bear to let her go...so I resorted to abusing my power.

The BGM playing as Yeon narrates the ending of his tragic story is ‘The Parting at the River of Three Crossings,’ which I think of as the epic love theme of TotNT alongside ‘Sad Fate.’ Why do I keep mentioning the BGM? No reason, other than that it interests me. ;)

On a linguistic note, Yeon’s line, ‘Someone stole her life’ caught my attention from the first time I watched this due to his unusual usage of the word ‘life.’ Korean has multiple words for ‘life.’ The one that would typically be used in this context is ‘moksoom’ (목숨), which I think of as having the nuance of one’s life force. So to steal one’s ‘moksoom’ would mean to kill them. Instead, he uses ‘insaeng’ (인생), which is more like the life one leads. To steal someone’s ‘insaeng’ sounds more like a case of identity theft. As we find out later, that actually is what Imoogi did, and this hinted at that linguistically.

I’m not sure how well this translated, but the gesture of Yeon kneeling is both epic and heartbreaking. Kneeling is a very weighty gesture in Korea, so for Yeon to use his godly powers to freeze the very River to the Afterlife only to kneel and beg for one last moment with Ah Eum is just... It’s a momentous enough gesture for Taluipa, the ultimate stickler for rules, to make an exception and grant his request.

The fox bead: In Japanese lore, a fox’s bead is often akin to its life force, but that’s clearly not the case for Yeon. In Korean lore, fox beads are sometimes called ‘the treasure of a fox’s lips,’ since the bead is supposedly located within the fox’s mouth (and can thus be stolen/gifted with a kiss). Some tellings claim that someone who swallows a fox’s bead gains understanding of all things and phenomena in the universe, while others say they grant the bearer’s wishes.

Yeon continues his narration, describing how he’s encountered women with Ah Eum’s face over the centuries, but that none of them were her. For anyone interested, you can find my hot take on that here.

Okay, can we please have a spin-off of Yeon hunting down folklore monsters in Japanese-occupied Korea Gaksital (2012)-style?

Fun fact: Based on some of the still cuts they released, there was actually a deleted scene in which Yeon pulled the late-Joseon era Ah Eum look-alike aside, checked her for the fox bead, and then erased her memories. (And by ‘fun’ I mean, ‘why would you delete that??’)

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Iconic.

Fun fact: Lee Dong Wook picked this as the most memorable line of the drama due to it’s thematic echoing across multiple episodes.

On the topic of the tranquilizer, there was a deleted scene in episode 1 in which Ji Ah very openly 'borrowed’ it from Shin Joo’s vet clinic because she already suspected Yeon was a fox: fox fur, Fox Ridge... She was taking a pretty big gamble though since he’s not exactly your average fox.

It’s worth noting that Ji Ah doesn’t say she was ‘looking’ for Yeon (although she was, because she’s a go-get-‘em kind of girl); she says she was ‘waiting’ for him. I took this to mean she was waiting for him to return and make good on his threat to kill her (since, not only had she not forgotten, she’d been actively sticking her nose into anything remotely supernatural or unexplainable), at which point, presumably, she planned to turn the tables on him.

Episode 02 Title Card: I’ve Been Waiting for You

For anyone wondering how Ji Ah managed to get Yeon back up to his penthouse, apparently she told the security desk her boyfriend was drunk and boldly took him back up in the elevator (presumably with help) haha

Possibly coincidentally, Yeon’s first line to Ji Ah when he regains consciousness is the same as his first line to little Ah Eum: ‘Do you want to die?’ (minus the sageuk speak)

Ji Ah’s line, “I wouldn’t be sipping tea here if I was worried about that,” would more literally be: “If I valued my life, would I be sitting here drinking flower tea?”

Lol Ji Ah. “Want a cup?” is such a classy power play.

Sub: “After the stunt you pulled, you’re actually offering me tea?” Ha. Also, what Yeon literally says is: “You pulled that variety-esque stunt, and your next line is what? ‘A cup of tea’?” ‘Variety’ here is an English loan word meant in the sense of ‘variety shows’ (ex. Running Man or 1 Night 2 Days), though to my knowledge, no one has ever been tranquilized on one.

The following exchange was littered with enough small things I would have changed that I’ll just translate the whole thing here for reference:

Ji Ah: When a man and a woman have that level of physical contact, don’t they usually also drink tea or eat meals together, too? These days, the whole pure and noble act doesn’t go far.

Yeon: Whether it does or not, when you’re at a disadvantage, isn’t it considered common courtesy to come [to the table] having put aside either your pride or your self-esteem [i.e. at least one of the two]?

Ji Ah: Listen until the end before you determine who’s at a disadvantage.

Yeon: (Nodding) In exchange, if my thinking still doesn’t change, you’ll pay the price for having tested me.

Ji Ah: Price?

Yeon: Your sight (literally ‘eyes’). I’ll be taking your eyes that have seen what they shouldn’t have.

Ji Ah: Deal. (literally, ‘call’ as in poker)

Rang & Yoo Ri Crash a Funeral

In the off chance you were wondering why this is basically the only time we see Rang driving Yoo Ri and not the other way around, it’s because Yoo Ri is ‘in character’ as the daughter of a major conglomerate and wouldn’t be expected to drive herself if there was another person in the car. In Korea, there’s a whole code of etiquette around who sits where in the car.

Instead of ‘Lee Rang-nim’ the subs have Yoo Ri addressing Rang as ‘sir.’ That just strikes me as so distant and cold...

To my thinking, this scene was peak ‘Hoket-dan.’ It was nearly the same level of over-the-top campy as some of the old supervillains. If I’m being perfectly honest, I was worried at this point that Rang’s character would turn out to be equally 2D. Joke’s on me though, ‘cause this later became a hilarious character quirk when Sajang says to Rang, “It can’t be that you came to enjoy watching me die?” and Rang responds, “I love doing that! Look, I even brought popcorn. I even go about visiting funeral homes and stuff on purpose.” lol

Ji Ah’s Gamble

Okay, but Yeon actually took her up on tea haha I love it.

Subs: “So you’re a fox that’s pretending to be human.” The word they use here (and throughout the drama) is ‘doongap’ (둔갑), which is literally ‘to assume the form of.’ Unfortunately, there’s no verb in English that neatly conveys that, so this gets subbed a lot of ways. I’ve mostly been translating it as ‘transform,’ but that’s more properly ‘byeonshin’ (변신). Sometimes with translation, the best option still isn’t great.

It’s also worth noting that this is actually not what Yeon is doing here, since he sees those sorts of tricks as beneath him. Yeon is a cheon’ho; his human form is his own.

Sub: “What a lame reaction. A normal human being would scream...” More literally: “What kind of reaction is so lacking in sincerity? Generally, if [you’re] a human, I should at least get a scream...” Again, both ‘reaction’ and ‘scream’ are in English, and, somewhat humorously, Yeon uses the verb + juda (주다) form, implying he was hoping to elicit a scream with his reveal pfft

Sub: “No. I knew something like you would exist somewhere out in this world. I started directing a TV show about urban legends so I could catch you myself.” This is mostly fine, but what she says more literally is: “No. I knew something like you would exist somewhere in this world. In order to catch [one] myself, I buried my bones in a TV show about urban legends.” To ‘bury ones bones’ means ‘to devote oneself entirely to’ and implies more drive and dedication than in the sub. The subject is once again omitted, so she could mean Yeon, but I think she actually means ‘things like Yeon’ more generally.

Yeon’s line to Ji Ah when she asks him about their long ago encounter was subbed as: “I followed the smell of blood, and I ended up saving a little kid. But I can see that she’s very ungrateful.” I would translate this as:

Yeon: I smelled blood and followed it, and ended up saving some little girl (lit. young child), but now I see that that child is trying to repay a favor with enmity.

The expression Yeon uses here, to ‘repay a favor (eunhye) with enmity (wonsoo),’ is a common turn of phrase. It’s the Korean equivalent of ‘biting the hand that feeds you,’ or ‘repaying good with ill.’ Considering eunhye has actual consequences for Yeon, he doesn’t seem all that put out.

Lol Something about Lee Dong Wook’s delivery of Yeon’s line, “So you lost your parents...” reminds me of the Oscar Wilde quote: ‘To lose one parent may be regarded as misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.’

Sub: “I’m not threatening you. I’m taking my chances.” This should be: “You’re mistaken. I’m not threatening; I’m gambling.” This turn of phrase is rather clever in Korean since ‘threat’ (협박) and ‘gamble’ (도박) are only one syllable off. In terms of the subs, while ‘gambling’ and ‘taking my chances’ are similar on the surface, they’re different enough in nuance that I would consider this a mistranslation. ‘Gambling’ implies an informed, calculated risk, whereas ‘taking my chances’ gives the impression of improvisation and leaving everything up to luck.

The Funeral Parlour

This scene is Rang in a nutshell. I actually don’t have much to comment on linguistically, but it was definitely an important scene for establishing Rang’s MO and motivations.

Shin Joo & Yeon

Yeon and Shin Joo meet up at the ice cream parlour to debrief on the situation with Ji Ah, and it’s cute how Shin Joo is more indignant over what went down than Yeon.

Subs: “It’s like we exist to repay people for their kindness.” This has been grossly paraphrased due to lack of cultural context. His line is literally:

Shin Joo: It’s not as if we’re magpies meticulously repaying our eunhye! Geez, how long do we have to be bound by that sort of premodern contractual relationship?”

This is another Korean folktale reference, this time to the story of The Grateful Magpies. I elaborated on it a bit here.

Yeon: “It’s old-fashioned but romantic. And it's also a fox’s dignity.” ‘Romantic’ here is the French loan word ‘romang’ (로망). In contrast to the English ‘romantic’ (which is also used), ‘romang’ is used to refer to ‘anything marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.’ ‘Dignity’ could also be translated as ‘grace of character.’ Yeon’s preoccupation with style/swagger/dignity is enough of a recurring theme (and occasional joke) that it features in his character profile.

For anyone keeping track, Shin Joo refers to Ah Eum as ‘Ah Eum agasshi.’ ‘Agasshi’ meaning ‘miss’ or ‘lady.’

Shin Joo’s line is subbed, “Does she bother you?” but it should be: ‘Does it bother you?’ where ‘it’ refers to the fact that Ji Ah so closely resembles Ah Eum.

Sub: “I’ve seen tons of people who looked like her for hundreds of years.” It’s actually not ‘tons of people,’ but ‘a couple’/‘several’ over the course of hundreds of years. Let’s be honest, people as pretty as Jo Bo Ah just aren’t born every day. ;)

Yeon’s line may be overly blunt, but it’s sweet that he calls Shin Joo, ‘Shin Joo-ya.’

Back over to Ji Ah. The way this scene suddenly switches from sentimental to horrifying is great. I also like that it’s unclear when she fell asleep. The boundary between reality and unreality is as blurred for the viewers as it is for Ji Ah, and it leaves us with a similar sense of disquiet.

In case it wasn’t already clear, it’s the tooth on this skull that leads Ji Ah to Eohwa Island. She sees a skull with an identical tooth in the news and goes to investigate.

Afterlife Immigration Office

LOL Hyeonuiong briefing the newly departed on death via powerpoint is hilarious. The powerpoint reads: ‘A Guide to Hell for the Dead, Presenter: Hyeonuiong.’ The red sigil on the right bears the characters ‘十王’ (the Ten Kings), so I guess this is an official, Afterlife-approved slideshow. heh

Side note: I’m impressed with the way this show seamlessly shifts between genres. We went from emotional to creepy to funny without it feeling forced or jarring (or at least, it didn’t to me).

The powerpoint (complete with webtoon) continues cheerily: “Hell! What is the Afterlife?” / “The 10 Types of Hell.” pfft Who made these slides? Whoever they are, point to them.

Subs: “You know King Hades, right?” WOW This is bordering on cultural whitewashing if you ask me. This should be King Yeomra (aka King Enma). He’s one of the Ten Kings of the Afterlife, and quite arguably the most famous.

The sub here says Taluipa is Yeomra’s older sister, which is understandable since the antiquated word Hyeonuiong uses (누이), doesn’t specify older or younger. We find out in the final episode, though, that Taluipa is actually Yeomra’s younger sister. As far as I’m aware, this is not part of the original lore.

Lol Yeon being a drama king: “I’m going to take revenge! Thanks to her, my obligatory military service has already gone on for 600 years~!” (You’re not fooling anyone, sir)

“No way! A man’s hair is his life! My red-brown...” Fun fact: It was actually Lee Dong Wook’s idea to make Yeon’s hair red-brown, both as a nod to him being a fox, and to give him a more otherworldly look.

Why do the gods keep saying reincarnation is random when everyone we see reincarnated kept their face??

‘Oh my god” lol Watching kdrama characters react in English never gets old. Possibly because there’s something exaggerated or overdramatic in the conscious decision to use English instead of Korean.

A++ response from Yeon. I saw something going around to the effect of, ‘this show really just said love is love,’ and I love that. Point to the writer.

The BGM here is once again ‘Thread Rings.’ Given where it keeps being used, I’m fairly certain they’re somehow related to Ji Ah/Ah Eum... (So I guess there actually is a reason I’m paying attention to the BGM ;p). Lee Dong Wook just disclosed the behind the scenes scoop on the rings in his latest VLIVE.

This bulgasari is such a mild-mannered person. Like Shin Joo, he calls Ji Ah ‘PD-nim’ and speaks politely and deferentially.

Not for anything, but I really liked Jo Bo Ah’s delivery of Ji Ah’s line, ‘I saw a corpse.’ Her little mannerisms really sold Ji Ah to me as a person and not just a character.

Bulgasari: “That dream, can you sell it to me? I want to play the lottery.” In addition to the concept of symbolism in dreams, Koreans also have a common notion that dreams can be bought and sold. It’s funny, though, when you consider he’s probably just planning to eat the dream.

I love whenever Taluipa calls Yeon, ‘Yeon-ah.’ She’s normally so prickly that it’s notable when she's affectionate. Also, seeing as Yeon is older than 95% of our characters, there aren’t many who might address him like this with the affectionate diminutive.

Heh, Yeon refers to Ji Ah’s favor as a ‘civil complaint.’

When Yeon asks Ji Ah for her parent’s times and dates of birth, what he’s actually asking for is their ‘saju’ (literally, ‘four pillars’). You can find my explanation here.

The Snail Bride

Bok Hye Ja: “It’s the first time he’s brought someone (literally ‘a person’).” Normally this would mean, ‘it’s the first time he’s brought a guest,’ but in this case, I’m fairly certain she means, ‘it’s the first time he’s brought a human.’ ;)

“I won’t ask you to understand.” This was another exchange that made me love Ji Ah. I found her frank and sincere apology refreshing.

On a personal note, I loved watching Yeon recalibrate his estimation of Ji Ah in this scene. And it was also a scene in which viewers got to recalibrate their impressions of Yeon. Yeon is feigning indifference, but he makes a point of asking after Ji Ah’s feelings, which is not insignificant. It’s also in sharp contrast to what we’ve seen of Rang so far.

Oh my gosh, THAT PUFFBALL DOG (and it’s name is Bean-ie) XD

Minor detail, but where did Shin Joo get his necklace? Wait. OH MY GOD. Shin Joo is the Aquaman of TotNT. Yeon gets to be Batman and Superman rolled into one and Shin Joo’s power is that he ‘talks to fish animals.’ Dead.

Lol Ji Ah watching Yeon eat. I feel like this is a running joke. In the tales, gumiho notoriously eat people’s livers, so seeing him eat normal food must be a bit eye-opening.

The text description for Shin Don was left untranslated in the version we’re watching but it reads: In A History of Goryeo, there’s record of Shin Don, a monk from the time of King Gongmin’s reign (1351-1374 C.E.), having been an old fox.

Subs: “Is it true that the monk of Goryeo Dynasty was a fox?” Us: ‘Yes, the one monk in all of Goryeo and for all of Goryeo. Guess he’d have to have been a fox in that case.’ This should probably have been translated as: "So then, Shin Don...is it a fact that the Goryeo monk Shin Don was a fox?”

Ji Ah: “Oh my god.” heh

Do You Really Want to See It?

Wait, they walked all the way from Insadong to Digital Media City? Okay, this is one of the (few) pitfalls of being fairly familiar with Seoul. Sometimes it’s really obvious when two locations don’t connect and then it pulls me out of the drama. I think we’re supposed to believe that the Snail Bride is in the vicinity of Ji Ah’s broadcast station, seeing as her team are lunchtime regulars, but the the two neighborhoods are nowhere near each other.

Yeon’s line in the subs here is: “A. I’m a busy man. B. We may currently be living in the same world, but there is a big difference between where we come from.” Personally, I would have translated this as: “Firstly, I haven’t got that much free time. Secondly, we may be unavoidably living mingled together, but the world I belong to and the world you belong to are incontrovertibly different.”

Subs: “Those who got a peek at my world ended up going crazy or dying young.” More literally: “In the past, there have been those who got a glimpse of the world’s secrets. Well, most of them either went mad or had their lives cut short.”

Minor detail, but Ji Ah’s response subbed as: “I don’t care. I’ll stay out of your way. Just don’t disappear.” should more literally be: “Just don’t disappear from my sight (lit. ‘from before me’).”

The sub on Ji Ah’s line here reads: “She (Sae Rom) and I both had nightmares.” What she actually says is: “Me and my hubae also had nightmares,” meaning that she (Ji Ah) and Jae Hwan had nightmares in addition to Sae Rom. Which is why Yeon refers to them as ‘contagious’.

Okay, is it just me, or does LDW look exceptionally unreal in this scene?

Bulgasari

I’m not familiar with the actor who plays the bulgasari (pretty sure he’s a new face), but he did a great job making his movements uncanny here. The firey CG effects are fun too.

Heck yeah! Yeon sure knows how to make an entrance. Seeing as how he instructed Ji Ah on what to do, I’m pretty sure he was there the whole time......show-off.

Once again, I’m digging the fight scene underscored by ‘The Uninvited.’ I would happily watch an entire series that’s just Yeon and Ji Ah solving supernatural cases and hunting down baddies who disturb the peace.

The Smirk™ XD I’m 90% sure this was another LDW ad lib.

Lol Yeon. Subs: “Really? Then am I the jerk here?” More literally: “Really? Then I guess I’m the only bad guy, huh?”

On a linguistic note, the bulgasari speaks to Yeon in old-timey speech, once again playing up their mutual identity as creatures of lore.

It’s only at this point that, prompted by Ji Ah, Yeon finally reveals the bulgasari’s identity. This is accompanied by a brief chyron telling us that they appear when the world is in disorder, and Ji Ah supplies that they eat nightmares.

To elaborate a bit, bulgasari are one of the better known Korean creatures of lore. There are two different sets of hanja for them: (bulgasari 不可殺伊 ‘can-not-kill’) and (bulgasari 火可殺伊 ‘fire-can-kill’), which explains why, depending on the telling, they’re either un-killable or only die by fire. In traditional lore, feeding them metal makes them grow larger and stronger, which, while not the case in TotNT, is probably what inspired the coin-gobbling.

Subs: “Yes they are especially fond of broadcasting studios, which are packed with people. Eating metal reveals their true identities.” That subtitle went a bit sideways. It’s not that they like broadcast stations in particular, but crowded places like broadcast stations. So it should read: “They like places with lots of people, like the broadcast station, and if you feed them metal, they reveal their true colors.”

Okay, Yeon’s line that’s subtitled as, “The hostage will answer,” is more literally: “Hey, hostage. Try answering me.” It’s worth noting that, while he calls her ‘injil-bun’ (injil = hostage + bun = the polite word for a person), he’s still speaking to her in banmal, so he’s once again being cheeky.

It’s taking some license, but I would translate Yeon’s question to Ji Ah here as: “In this moment,* what exactly can you do other than rely on me to save you?” which is essentially what he means. [*Note: literally, ‘at this timing,’ and once again, ‘timing’ is in English.]

We get a series of short scenes lining up some of the side characters who will become our key players on the island: the fisherman find the severed head, Ji Ah grills Detective Baek about the case, and Rang approaches Pyung Hee with his usual devil’s bargain pitch. I didn’t really notice anything here that I think is important enough to the central plot or characters that it’s worth commenting on (especially given how massively long this post is already), so I’m just going to call it good and move right along. ;)

Pfft I definitely wasn’t expecting the bulgasari to be literally chilling in Yeon’s freezer (not that he had a choice). This is somewhat interesting given they’re typically thought to be weak to fire, not ice.

Subs: “I’ll die even if I tell you where he is.” More literally: “Whether I die in this way [by Yeon’s hand], or that [by Rang’s], it is all the same.”

Brother Complex

Sub: “Don’t even think of hurting her.” More literally: “Just try touching one hair on her head.”

Oh my gosh Rang’s face ㅠㅠ This was the first time I felt Kim Beom really got to display his acting chops in this role, and boy, was I glad to see it. This was also when I knew Rang was going to make me cry.

Yeon: “You’re acting like this because you lack affection.” The expression Yeon uses is ‘aejeong gyeolpip,’ which literally does mean ‘affection lack/want/absence,’ but I would have translated it as ‘affection-starved,’ since saying Rang ‘lacks affection’ could also be interpreted to mean Rang is incapable of expressing affection.

Yeon: “Why’s that?” Lol Lee Dong Wook. Also, this one line is cheekily in polite speech.

Subs: “Just because of a woman you gave up your position as a mountain spirit, left the mountain, and you even...” More literally: “Just because of one mere human woman you gave up your position as a mountain god, turned your back on the mountain, and..!!”

Yeon: “Yes, I know. I even abandoned you.” Rang-ah~ ㅠㅠ I recently received an ask as to whether or not I believed Yeon had truly abandoned Rang, which I answered here.

Oof, Yeon giving Rang advice as an older brother. In Korea, nagging is seen as a sign of affection. You may recall Ji Ah was very excited for her dad to nag her about her boyfriend in episode 12.

Sub: “You crazy fool.” Rang literally calls his brother a ‘michin nom,’ ‘michin’ meaning ‘crazy.’ ‘Nom’ is a pronoun that, depending on how it’s used, can mean anything from ‘guy,’ to ‘jerk,’ to ‘bastard.’

Sub: “I don’t need to know.” Actually: “There’s no need [for you to tell me].” The two are subtly different. Yeon’s saying he’ll find out on his own, not that he doesn’t want to know.

Fun fact: Kim Beom said in his script reading interview (before they started filming) that he was a bit worried about his onscreen dynamic with Lee Dong Wook because, while Rang has to hate Yeon, LDW is a hyung that KB likes so much in real life. What a cutie.

We cut briefly over to Ji Ah on the phone with Jae Hwan, asking him to look after Sae Rom while she chases down the skull lead.

As an aside here, Ji Ah calls Sae Rom, ‘Kim-jak’ (short for ‘jakga,’ meaning ‘writer’). In Korea, it’s common to refer to someone by their role or title. This might indicate distance, but Ji Ah’s shortening it makes the term familiar and speaks of their camaraderie. In the subtitles, this has become, ‘Ms. Kim,’ which is oddly distant given their frenemyship.

The Island

Is it just me, or does it feel like there should have been a scene here explaining how and why Yeon came to be on the boat? I’m assuming it got deleted due to time constraints, but I feel like it was needed.

Pfft The way Ji Ah pops up from behind Yeon, cutting comically into the dramatic shot of Lee Dong Wook’s windswept profile + BGM was great.

In case it wasn’t already apparent, Kimite patches are used to alleviate sea sickness, so this is further undermining the mood of a second ago haha

Yeon’s line is subbed: “I’d like to keep it to myself,” but this should more literally be: ‘Let’s each work individually/play it solo.’

Sub: “No, thank you.” What Yeon actually says: “Hard pass.” hahaha (Literally: ‘I’ll immediately/urgently decline,’ but tonally, ‘hard pass’ is closer).

The subs have Yeon’s line as: “You need to be careful what you pay attention to.” I would have translated this as: “If that’s the reason [you’ve come], go back. You mustn’t recklessly lend an ear [to such things].” His tone and phrasing are both surprisingly gentle.

Subs: “My guts keep telling me, that this is a very suspicious combination.” Well, my guts keep telling me, that this is a very suspicious sub haha I would have translated Yeon’s voiceover as:

Yeon: The same boat...the same island...a woman with the same face as that girl. My instincts speak to me relentlessly, telling me there’s something amiss about this combination.

Pfft The contrast between Ji Ah's dismount from the boat and Yeon’s.

Lol Yeon’s ‘excuse me’ was totally rude

For the record, from the moment Yeon sets foot on the island, he speaks to everyone in banmal. That’s bad form towards any stranger, but it’s especially rude considering their age. Sure, Yeon’s way older, but they don’t know that.

Ji Ah mouthing “What?” in English haha

Yeon clocking the effectively creepy villagers. Turns out the right BGM and camerawork can make anything creepy. Point to the director.

Settling in on the Island

Ji Ah’s line subbed as, “I thought you didn’t want to be involved,” should more properly be: “I thought you just said we should each play it solo?”

Yeon’s line is similarly mis-subbed as: “I changed my mind. Don’t let it bother you.” What he actually says is much ruder: “I’ll do what I want! Butt out.” Which explains Ji Ah’s affront heh

Lol Yeon walking right in front of the camera. Anyone who has ever had a pet recognized this moment.

I love how Yeon is being completely tactless and insensitive but then grudgingly course-corrects when Ji Ah glares daggers at him.

Fisherman (subs): “It gives me a bad feeling in my mouth.” Excuse me, what? haha The line is: “The more I think about it, the more it bothers me.”

Lol Ji Ah: “In the documentaries I watched, they say digging holes is your speciality” (complete with digging gesture).

Fun fact: Ji Ah blocking the way with her leg and Yeon burrowing under it was something Jo Bo Ah and Lee Dong Wook came up with themselves. Ji Ah’s line was scripted, but I’m nearly positive Yeon’s comeback of, “Burrowing is my speciality,” was an ad lib by Lee Dong Wook. Once again, casting Lee Dong Wook is the gift that keeps on giving.

WAIT. Subs: “You can’t go.” / “Borrowing is my specialty.” Hahaha What even? Cheon’ho Lee Yeon: professional mooch.

The way we then cut to Yeon ‘burrowing’ into a freezer of ice cream is just perfect. Point to the director.

Once again, Yeon is talking to all the village elders in banmal.

“You have a terrible service mentality.” pfft

OH. Ji Ah’s response to the misogynistic fisherman is just A++

Her line here is literally: “Oops, I’m afraid I’m overflowing with ‘jeong.’” ‘Jeong’ (情) can be a little hard to translate. It literally means ‘emotion’ or ‘affection,’ but the way it’s used linguistically can be a bit complex. The sub here was: “I’m afraid I was too generous,” which I actually think is pretty decent. The turn of phrase in Korean though, using the word ‘overflowing’ while over-pouring on the man, made her response doubly witty.

Hah. I love the way Yeon just raises his eyebrows when he comes out of the market and spots her.

Subs: “How dare a witch from outside come here and...” He actually calls her a ‘michin nyeon’ meaning ‘crazy bitch,’ so the line is: “Crazy bitch, where do you think this is that you dare...”

Ji Ah’s line that begins, “If you’re going to hit me...” is just SO great. We stan (1) queen.

Subs: “Nice. You’re tough.” This is a bit hard to translate. Yeon’s line is literally: “Oh~ What ggang is like this?” ‘Ggang’ can be translated as ‘guts,’ ‘tenacity,’ or ‘persistence.’ Naver dictionary describes it as: ‘a personal trait found in one who never gives in, when put in whatever difficulties,’ which is so spot on for Ji Ah. I might approximate this as: “Woah~ Just how gutsy are you?”

The way he's just like, ‘I approve. Here, have a shikhye~’ is mildly adorable. Did you buy that for her, Yeon, or were you planning on having two but decided she’d earned one? haha

Ji Ah’s response is equally great. The sub says: “That was nothing.” which isn’t a bad option for a subtitle, but what she literally says is ‘saesam-seureopge’ (새삼스럽게), where ‘saesam’ means ‘now? at this point? after all this time?’ So she’s basically saying, ‘You’re bothering with that observation, over that little stunt, after everything else you’ve seen me do?’ haha

“I plan to mooch off of you as much as possible.” Pfft I love how Yeon actually moves to stand behind her just to underscore the point. That’ll be Lee Dong Wook again.

Wow, these are some sketchy old people.

Subs: “People aren’t the only ones with eyes and mouths.” What he actually says is, “Are people the only ones with eyes and ears?”

The Forest Spirit

Wow, the lighting in this scene is just A++ Point to the lighting team (or is that just natural? It feels almost too pretty to have just been natural).

I was too distracted by Lee Dong Wook to notice the first time, but Ji Ah’s face when Yeon shushes her is great haha

On a linguistic note, this scene is one of the few in which Yeon code switches to archaic speech as he’s addressing the tree spirit. It’s the linguistic equivalent of him putting on his ‘mountain god’ hat. (He still speaks to Ji Ah normally, though).

We cut briefly to the mudang (shamaness), and I’m sorry, I know this is a traditional way of speaking, but it always makes me laugh because it’s so over-the-top.

The spirit addresses Ji Ah as ‘agasshi,’ which would be strange if she was actually a modern young girl, but makes sense for a spirit who’s at least 600. Overall, it helps to remind viewers of her supernatural-ness.

Yeon telling Ji Ah she did a good job is so cute. I feel like they’re rapidly becoming a quirky tag-team duo and I’m 100% here for it.

Mudang: “His body returned to shore before his head did! Your father!” This line was explained in the backstory collection.

Okay, the mudang needs to dial it back like 10 levels here.

Possibly just me, but Yeon swatting the air with his hand as he peers into the cave struck me as vaguely fox-like.

Minor detail again, but the chyron here is subbed as ‘Jangsansa Cave.’ It’s actually ‘Jangsan sagool,’ not ‘Jangsansa gool.’ ‘Sagool’ is written with the characters 蛇窟 meaning ‘snake hole.’

Lol Yeon freezing mid-motion when Ji Ah tells him to stay put. That is 110% Lee Dong Wook’s sense of humour. Praise the drama gods for Lee Dong Wook - this show wouldn’t have been half as fun without him.

Fun fact: This cave is actually intimately tied to Ah Eum’s past with Imoogi and the story of how she came to be his ‘bride’ (read: sacrifice). I translated the tvN description here. I actually think this was fairly important information, so it’s a shame it wasn’t covered in the drama.

Sleepover with a Gumiho

When Ji Ah asks Yeon why he’s insisting on staying at Pyung Hee’s, his response is subbed as: “I have my reasons.” This is more properly: “You don’t need to know.”

Sub: “We don’t eat that crap!” Yeon’s line doesn’t have a subject, but this should properly be: “I don’t eat that crap!” We know from Yeou Nui that some gumiho in this world actually do eat liver.

“Heard of the Chinese liver fluke?” Ha. Yeon literally says ‘kan distoma,’ i.e. ‘liver distomiasis’ or ‘liver fluke’. While there was a well-known outbreak in China, it isn’t inherently Chinese. There’s a Korean word for it too (간흡충), but once again, Yeon opts for the loan word, adding further humour to the gumiho disavowing liver consumption - for health reasons, no less pffft

The BGM playing as Yeon sees Ah Eum in Ji Ah is once again ‘Parting at the River of Three Crossings.’

Bok Hye Ja’s line to Shin Joo is subbed as: “He went to the island to find this reincarnated girl?” The word she uses is actually ‘gakshi,’ which is an antiquated word generally meaning ‘bride’ (as in ‘the Snail Bride’), but it can also just mean ‘young woman.’

For the record, the Snail Bride speaks to Shin Joo in banmal, who speaks to her in jondaetmal

Shin Joo: “Contrary to how he looks, he’s the devoted type, after all.” Et tu, Shin Joo?

Shin Joo’s line is subbed: “As if that’s a good thing,” but I would have translated it as: “Romantic, my foot!”

Sub: “At least once in our lives we come across that one person we want to give our lives to.” This should be: ‘risk our lives for.’

Sub: “I won’t ever devote myself to love. My goal will be to protect Mr. Lee.” Actually: “I won’t ever risk my life for love. I’m going to protect Lee Yeon-nim!”

“Well that can also be called love, can’t it?” Thank you for this, Show. I know some people think TotNT champions romantic love above all else, but I simply don’t agree.

When Yeon checks Ji Ah again for his fox bead, the BGM playing is once again ‘Thread Rings’

I love how they did the CG on whatever is happening with Yeon’s powers here. I would have loved to have gotten more of an explanation of the fox bead and its powers (and Yeon’s, for that matter), but alas.

I love that Yeon tucks Ji Ah in even after re-confirming (or so he thinks) that she isn’t Ah Eum. It was important to me that he came to like and appreciate her for herself before learning that she was, in fact, his lost love.

Morning on the Island

Ji Ah wakes to find Yeon gone, the blanket tucked around her, and her expression tells us she’s onto him: sure, Yeon can be a grump, but he’s also a complete softie. heh

Yeon is, once again, talking to the elders in banmal. Why do I keep mentioning it? Because no matter how many times I see it it’s still funny.

Okay, Lee Dong Wook has this way of pointing at things with his entire arm that I find ticklish. Yeon ends up coming across like a petulant child. On a cultural note, in Korea, pointing at people like this is considered impolite.

Yeon dangling the ginseng behind Ji Ah as extra incentive pfft Wild ginseng can be massively expensive in Korea (on the order of hundreds of dollars), so this is actually a very effective bribe.

Also, can we take a moment to appreciate that Yeon woke up before dawn, and, instead of going back to sleep, went into the mountains to hunt for wild ginseng, then set about using it to bribe the elders into answering Ji Ah’s questions for her. Entirely of his own accord. Like I said: softie.

Side note: Lee Dong Wook’s eyebrows are working overtime in this scene and I’m honestly a little jealous.

The newspaper Jae Hwan finds at the library is dated August 13, 1954, which Ji Ah immediately recognizes as having been just after the Korean War (if you’ll recall, this is when the forest spirit told them something ominous had come to the island).

This newspaper is actually really cool. You can see how, in the past, Korean newspapers used a lot of hanja in addition to the phonetic hangeul, similar to modern Japanese. The headline reads, “Headless Corpse, Discovered on Eohwa Island, Investigation Hits Dead End.” (頭 없는 屍身, 漁花島에서 發見, 捜査迷宮으로).

Okay, to be honest, this final scene - absent the extra context given in the next episode - made me question Ji Ah’s smarts again. I wondered why she was chasing down the clearly unstable guy just to question him, but it makes sense once you know she meant to warn him his life was in danger.

As usual, Yeon knows how to make an entrance. Cue ‘Gumiho’ theme.

Yeon stopping when Ji Ah tells him to never stops being satisfying.

The BGM playing as we cut over to Rang is ‘The House of Ghosts.’

Okay, those shots of Thirsty and Hungry were full-on horror movie and I actually kind of like it? I never watch horror as a genre, but for some reason, I found I missed this spooky element when it dropped out of the later episodes.

Oh, I like that Yeon went and made her a poultice. Very ex-mountain god of you, sir.

“Long time no see, Lee Yeon.” Iconic. And creepy. I love the attention to detail Jo Bo Ah displays in the difference between how she acts Ji Ah vs. Imoogi. Imoogi’s voice is higher pitched, and gives off more of a loose-cannon feel compared to Ji Ah, who speaks in a lower, more grounded tone.

Sub: “It’s me. The person you’ve been waiting for.” Imoogi literally says: “It’s me. That thing you’ve been waiting for.” This is obviously a big clue since normally one wouldn’t refer to oneself in such a way. It also reflects the fact that, unlike Terry-Imoogi, Jimoogi perceives no value in Ji Ah herself. (Yes, I call Ji Ah-Imoogi ‘Jimoogi,’ and sadly, no, I didn’t come up with it).

Yikes, Jimoogi tracing Yeon’s face was all menace and zero cute. Point to Jo Bo Ah.

Boy, this show really knows how to make an exit.

Blue Mooooooooon!! The guitar (bass?) riff is just so catchy.

And that concludes Episode 2. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first one. If not for your encouragement, I probably wouldn’t have continued. I also genuinely enjoy hearing from people, so send me your thoughts! This is a weird, unprecedented mashup of a live reaction post, behind the scenes info, and detailed language and culture notes, and I’m still learning how to balance the three. Your feedback is always welcome.

I’d also like to take a moment to credit my sister, who, in addition to weighing in on a lot of the translations, is also the chief researcher and fact checker for these. I, meanwhile, am in charge of bad jokes and snark. I mentioned before that these take longer than you might expect, but it’s really true. The time we spend watching the episode is actually the least of it, and as much as I enjoy them, they are a huge time suck.

So. This is what I’m going to do. If you’d like to see more of these, or if you enjoyed this, or if you’ve enjoyed any of the translations or commentary or whatnot I’ve been posting recently, please consider buying me a coffee. If you follow the link, you can buy me a $2 cup of virtual coffee. I’ve never done this before, but I’ve decided to give it a try. It’ll help me to gauge how much interest there is, and, possibly more importantly, it will help me to justify all the time haha. If and when I’ve established there’s enough interest, I’ll proceed with Episode 3. ;)

#tale of the nine tailed #totnt #lost in translation #구미호뎐 #kdrama #korean language #korean culture

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violetwolfraven · 3 years

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Write Out Some Colors

@the-gay-trashmouth this is a gift for the newsies filmiversary exchange! You asked for newsbians getting together in any au and I decided to do it in my superpowers/rebellion au!

@newsiesgiftexchange one gift down, one to go!

Ngl I’m super excited to flesh out my take on Sarah’s personality here!

Tw: non-graphic injuries, mentioned abusive parents, war-like elements.

...

Sarah had thought she’d seen it all. A 15-year-old who could pull weapons out of nowhere, a 13-year-old who could see the future, even her own twin revealing out of nowhere that no, her own powers hadn’t been misfiring, he did have powers too and could talk to animals and had never told her.

All three of the kids in their family had powers, which made them illegal, which meant they were on the run with a handful of other kids with powers, whom they’d met through a boy Davey met in jail.

Strangely, that situation had worked out okay, as it turned out Jack Kelly was pretty good at keeping a gang of a couple dozen kids safe, and he didn’t have a problem with adding the Jacobs siblings to the mix.

Davey was probably the least-powerful of them, as he could communicate with animals of all kinds, but that didn’t mean they had to do what he said. Les was the most powerful, able to convince anyone to do anything, and Sarah was squarely in the middle despite technically being the oldest.

Her power was that she could see auras. Read them to know what kind of person she was dealing with, who they cared about, and what their powers were if they had any. Occasionally, she could drain power from an aura to put a person to sleep or even kill them, though a general rule of their gang was that they didn’t kill unless absolutely necessary.

Given the information she learned from auras, Sarah could literally see the tension between certain pairs in the group. She could see when they fell in love and instantly tell what power-levels they were dealing with when they met up with other gangs of powered kids. She’d pretty much seen it all.

Sarah had, however, never seen an aura like the one surrounding a girl she didn’t recognize, who was accompanying Spot and Hotshot on a meeting from Brooklyn.

Bright magenta, a glow of power that flickered and rippled in a sphere around her. Not quite as bright as Spot and Hotshot, but powerful nonetheless.

The girl herself was maybe a year or two older than Sarah, with red curls and brown eyes, a hard gleam in there like most Brooklyn kids. Unlike Manhattan, that gang didn’t have qualms about killing if they had to.

The way her aura moved suggested that she wasn’t especially attached to either of her friends yet. Probably a new kid. And the contained energy of it, the way it didn’t quite disperse into the air like, say... a pyro’s, was similar to Jack’s, like it needed to be consciously manifested by an action like drawing or something.

To say that Sarah was curious was an understatement.

Analytically minded in a way that made her good in fights, she liked knowing all possible variables. And she had no idea what power set they were dealing with, with this girl, so naturally she wanted to find out.

But while Jack was talking to Spot about something the Brooklyn and Manhattan gangs could potentially work together on and Hotshot was hanging out with one of the Guzman twins, Specs was already making friends with the new girl. They seemed to be getting along pretty well.

Sarah was going to go over to join the conversation, but... she wasn’t the most diplomatic in the group.

She was on good terms with Spot, but not great at making friends. And that girl was almost definitely a new kid, so it was probably better for relations between gangs for her not to try too hard to figure her powers out and scare her away.

She didn’t even find out her name until after Brooklyn left, when she asked Specs.

“Her name’s Katherine,” he responded, “Katherine Plumber. Nice enough, I guess, for a Brooklyn kid. She’s 18. A bit of a late bloomer, I guess. Apparently Spot considers her some kinda secret weapon.”

Brooklyn was a powerful gang, so if Katherine Plumber was considered special by their standards, that meant she had to be a serious powerhouse.

But, Specs didn’t know what her powers were. Which was rare because Specs was widely considered so trustworthy that he knew pretty much everything about everyone.

It wasn’t unheard of for one gang to turn on another, so Sarah figured it was safest to find out, which was definitely the only reason why she offered to come the next time Jack went over to Brooklyn to talk to Spot.

Screw Jojo and Albert’s laughter. She was only scoping out a potential threat. Power sets she’d never seen before needed to be planned for.

Specs wasn’t there this time, so Sarah got the chance to talk to the new girl alone.

Katherine Plumber was... really funny. And sarcastic. And she’d discovered her powers later than most and therefore was new to this world, but she was figuring it out quickly. She was smart. A fast learner.

Her aura was even more fascinating up close. The energy had an unexpected chill to it, kind of like mint—definitely similar to Jack’s—and Sarah was very curious because it clearly wasn’t the same power set. Jack’s power of bringing drawings to life was so unique that no one had ever heard of anyone else with the same one.

But Katherine wouldn’t demonstrate hers, although she accepted Sarah’s invitation to go on a scouting mission the next week.

And though staking out an office building was dull and boring, she still wouldn’t demonstrate her powers. Fascinating and frustrating.

It was amazing, how she always found a reason not to show Sarah what she could do. There was always a counter argument, always an excuse. And Sarah had just as many ways to ask for demonstrations, so they were constantly intellectually challenging each other. And they were spending a lot of time together, just because Sarah kept offering and Katherine kept accepting.

“You’s got a crush on her!” Albert teased as he and the others cackled after she explained how she had plans with Katherine again this weekend.

“I do not,” Sarah retorted, “I’m being practical for Manhattan’s future!”

No matter how Albert and Jojo and Les and even Davey laughed, it was only to find out how big of a threat she was in case Brooklyn ever became a rival.

2 missions became 3, became 6, became 10, until Sarah could count 27 excuses she’d made up to see Katherine in 2 months and she still didn’t know what her powers were.

Until Manhattan’s hideout got raided while Katherine happened to be over visiting, and as everyone else scrambled to their defense positions to let the less-powerful and younger members of the gang escape, Sarah saw her whip out that little notebook and pen she always kept in her jacket pocket.

Like over a bog, we need some fog

The thick mist rolled in out of nowhere, and all of Manhattan escaped, following Katherine to Brooklyn’s latest hideout. Spot was willing to let them stay until they found a new place of their own. After all, they were on the same side.

Only after she’d helped Jack conjure replacement bedding and supplies for the stuff they hadn’t had time to save did Katherine sit down with Sarah off to the side and explain exactly what she could do.

“I have to write it in verse for it to happen,” she explained, “Rhymes. That’s why I didn’t notice I could do anything until I was 17.”

She explained that she’d pretended she didn’t have a power at all for almost a year, until her 2 closest friends found out and told her it was too dangerous and she had to run away before her parents found out, because they would inevitably find out if she stayed.

Remembering how her parents had told her and Davey to take Les and run for their own safety when she was 16, Sarah was inclined to agree. Powers had a tendency to come to light eventually, no matter how you tried to hide them.

Katherine was a real powerhouse. She was like Jack—Sarah was right—just slightly to the left. A creator. She had endless potential, and power like hers was bound to show through.

However, some powers were good for hiding, and Kenny and Blink had a place for Manhattan to move into within a week.

Sarah was surprised about how she... wasn’t excited about that, and she told Race as much, figuring he would understand. It was common knowledge, at least among the older kids in Manhattan, that he was closer with Brooklyn than any of them.

Plus, Sarah could see it. She could see the way his aura moved around a certain Brooklyn boy, trailing towards him and tangling pale blue with dark red, like all they wanted was to hold each other close.

It didn’t make her jealous at all, being able to see who was in love with who and that it was requited. It didn’t matter that powered people rarely lived past 21 and Sarah was 16 and unlike many of her friends, she hadn’t found anyone yet. She was happy for him that Race had that.

“I’d like to stay, yeah,” he admitted, “Brooklyn’s... part of my heart’s always gonna be here. But Manhattan’s my home. My family. ‘Sides, Jack and Crutchie needs my help runnin’ things.”

In the end, that conversation was completely unhelpful, because Race’s main reason for leaving was that he was one of the gang’s seconds. Sarah wasn’t a second. She wasn’t staying out of responsibility.

The only responsibility she really had was to Davey and Les, and... did they really need her?

“You wanna stay, don’t you?” Davey guessed randomly the day before Manhattan moved out of Brooklyn’s hideout, “Stay in Brooklyn.”

“With Katherine,” Les added.

This time, neither of them was teasing.

“I’m thinking about it,” Sarah admitted, “I’m not sure if I should.”

To her surprise, Davey shook his head quickly, “No, Sarah. If you wanna stay I think you should stay. Especially if the only thing you’d be coming with Manhattan for’d be me and Les.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine without ya.”

“Thanks, Les.”

“I mean we’s got Jack, and Crutchie, and all the rest of Manhattan. You don’t have to worry ‘bout us, Sar. You wanna stay with Kat, so you should.”

Sarah was conflicted until the day they actually left, and though her bag was packed, same as the rest of them, she stood at the doorway of the hideout watching her friends leave in small groups to sneak to Manhattan’s new home for an unreasonable amount of time.

Fuck it. She knew where they were going. She could visit. Her brothers got more powerful every day, same as her. She and Les had survived just the two of them for a while before Davey broke out of jail and brought Jack and the gang into their lives. The boys had each other and Jack and the gang. They would be fine without her.

So Sarah stayed, and she was pretty sure Spot and the others knew why. If she didn’t know any better, she could swear the king of Brooklyn was a little jealous that she was free to. It was nice to get to know him better. They’d always gotten along well, but building a real friendship meant they found out how kickass of a pair they could really be.

She wasn’t sure if Katherine knew why she’d stayed. Her aura gave away nothing but surprise.

The only aura Sarah had trouble seeing was her own.

It was a periwinkle color when she cared to stretch her powers to see it, it had barely any glow, and it moved like a kind of fog, spreading out and weaving through others’ energies, a little bit of it always lingering around the people most important to her even more than others’ auras ever did.

Katherine’s aura was so bright that it was even harder than normal to perceive her own.

But no matter how she denied it to her friends and brothers... she could still see traces of periwinkle flickering around and tangling with the magenta.

“So, you decided to stay,” she noted, and Sarah gave up on trying to see what she was feeling about that, because Katherine’s aura had the contained energy of a creator. Like Jack, it was hard to read her because her aura hardly moved at all.

“I did,” Sarah responded, trying to gauge her reaction the old fashioned way; through her face.

Unfortunately, the difference between the two creators was that Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions in his eyes, and Katherine, of course, was making things difficult. As usual.

“You’re not going to ask me why?” she asked after a couple seconds of silence.

“It’s because we make such a good team, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s because we all know Spot and I would be the ultimate power friendship.”

Katherine laughed, “I can tell you’re kidding, but you’re not wrong.”

Sarah was strongly considering making some clever remark again, but after thinking about it in the loaded silence for a couple seconds...

“What would you say if it was something like that? Us being a good team.”

She definitely wasn’t holding her breath while she waited for her response.

“I’d say we are pretty kickass together,” Katherine answered, “Maybe even more than you and Spot.”

Sarah was obvious about it intentionally when she gave her a once-over, and she saw Katherine smirk mischievously.

“Definitely more than me and Spot.”

“I think I’m gonna like you sticking around.”

Sarah wasn’t sure who moved first, but they both lunged for each other within the space of a couple seconds, hands tangling in hair and lips meeting as a few months worth of tension released with one kiss.

Albert, Jojo, Davey and Les were going to be so annoying when they found out they were right.

Still, Sarah grinned as they pulled apart, “I think I’m gonna like me sticking around, too.”

#newsies #newsbians #sarah jacobs #katherine plumber #davey jacobs #les jacobs #jack kelly #crutchie morris #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #newsie powers/rebellion au #non-graphic injuries tw #war-like elements tw #violet’s writing

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