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furious-rogue-stuff · 8 months ago

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A Feral Interlude, Chapter 1: Gnawing Curiosity

Pairing: Victor Creed x Isabela Montecristo | Sabertooth x Vipress

Disclaimer: This series will have canon-accurate and heightened levels of violence, adult themes, slight dub-con/non-con overtones and undertones, descriptions of bloody gore and sadism, and graphic descriptions of sex. *Post-Origins movieverse.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word count: 16,500+

Series Summary: Victor Creed's reputation as the Sabertooth proceeds him. He clashes with a mysterious feral woman, an enigma and anomaly to everything he knows. What began as a hunt becomes a dance between like-minded predators.

🚨Warning: Violence, gore, language, mentions of rape, and some feral power play. I do not own any aspect or character of the Marvel Universe nor elements of the X-Men Origins movieverse.

A Feral Interlude Masterlist

A Feral Interlude, Chapter 1: Gnawing Curiosity

Work had been surprisingly scarce after the Island crumbled. Stryker had gone to ground for all he knew, and Victor took some pleasure at the mental image of his former employer being tortured or treated like a fuck-up somewhere in Washington. The pleasure fizzled as fast as the thought was replaced with his incurable boredom as of late. He hadn't seen Jimmy since the Island and it took him a minute to wonder if he even cared anymore. A stupid thing to wonder, since the fact he still thought of the runt was proof enough that he still cared.

These sort of musings infuriated Victor. He'd push them back down and concentrate on his rage, which seemed to erase anything else until his mind wandered all over again. He forced himself to not look as bored as he felt sitting across from the man who was quoting him for an espionage job. He preferred the government jobs. The brass gave him his parameters, and let him do the job as he saw fit, as long as his methods garnered the wanted results. They paid a hell of a lot more than most private contracts, and they came with so many perks and immunity privileges that Victor had no problem enjoying his work. Unlike lately with all the bullshit haggling and coddling he had to do just to get paid right for a series of crapshoot jobs. Unable to take it anymore, Victor suddenly rested his hands palm down on the table and rose, startling the man's bodyguards standing at attention on either side of him.

"Get to the point or I walk. You're boring me to tears," he grumbled sardonically and enjoyed the tension in the man's face.

The man was clearly an intermediary, meaning this job was willing to pay a chunk of cash. They had sought him out, and he'd met them at a rendezvous point as specified if his interests were piqued. Now here he was, in fucking Las Vegas of all places, getting dicked around with over some stupid computer codes or some shit, when all he wanted to know was if he was cleared to kill and the wage. The man looked very dubiously at the flunkies standing behind him while Victor feigned mounting irritation.

Truth be told, it had been quite a while since he had an espionage gig. Lately he'd been globe trotting doing people's dirty work and dealing with the drudgery himself—no network or government cleaning crews to cover things up—something that didn't really bother him but he felt on principle should. Making people disappear was old hat to him, and he much preferred the gigs where he got to terrorize a target before killing them with intimate cruelty. Espionage didn't leave much room for the former or latter, to Victor's chagrin, but a job was a job. When it came down to it, Victor was a fucking surgeon at what he did, and he was damn proud of it. His calculating savagery and ruthless keenness made him a global terror among other free agents and dastardly government fuckwits alike. It wasn't because he was good at what he did, but because he intimately enjoyed what he did. This job was already boring him to no end, but he figured giving the little man in the fancy suit sitting across from him an anxiety attack was fun for now.

Until the phone at the end of the conference table rang.

The man nodded to one of the flunkies to take the line as he went over a few key parameters of the mission. When said flunky walked over and whispered in his ear, Victor heard, "She's coming up."

"What?" the man balked at the crony. "Right now?"

Victor's brow quirked slowly before he stood straight—towering over the man even from across the heavy glass conference table. "Is there a problem?" he drawled with a gruff edge to his tone.

"N-No Mr. Creed. I just need to confer with another—!" the man was cut off by a knock on the door. His eyes widened before he nodded to the closest bodyguard to open said door.

The door was pulled open to reveal a woman. The dark red of her top was what first caught Victor's attention. Then the fierce scent that carried over to him when she strutted into the office like she owned the place.

"Mediator," she offered as greeting, not even bothering more than a cool glance over at Victor when she strode to the head of the conference table to stare out the long glass window that looked over the Vegas strip.

"M-Miss Montecristo, I-I thought you…" the man stammered, drawing a blank when the woman turned stoically towards him. The illumination of the bright neon signs outside caught the side of her face in the dim room, allowing Victor to take in her features better.

Angular features, screaming Spanish, or maybe South American, with a warm glow that was tempered into a sun-kissed tan across her skin. Her thick long dark hair was combed away from her face to cascade down behind her shoulders, with a few long strands escaping to caress the sides of her face. His eyes lingered on her mouth, painted a shade of red lighter than her top. Her eyes caught his stare, and he saw the stark color.

"My last commitment was rescheduled, so I can take on your mission," she announced with deliberate crispness before she leaned against the glass window and gave the man an intense stare.

"W-Well," the man was at a loss as he stared at Victor before quickly looking back at her. "I'm afraid my employer has had me contact another free agent" he announced, earning a dry grunt from Victor who was now staring the woman down, sizing her up.

"I understand, that is why I've interrupted these mediations and am accepting the job now," she remarked, her voice as cool as a desert night's breeze to Victor's acute hearing. She didn't have a particular accent, but the flow of her speech seemed…otherworldly, as if she'd traveled and mastered speech in every corner of the world.

"Sorry, miss, but I'm here ironing things out. You lost your chance—" Victor's condescending remark was cut short when the woman stalked towards him. He stood his ground and bared his fangs in warning when she was a few steps away from him, but found himself sneering in confusion when she skimmed right past him, as if he was a decorative plant standing in her way.

"Mediator, confer with your employer. I'm sure things can be rearranged," she spoke and glanced over her shoulder at Victor. His eyes had flickered from the sway of her hips clad in the form-fitting Calvin's back up to her bizarrely colored eyes.

He turned swiftly toward the mediator, his heavy black coat fluttering behind him from the briskness of his movement. "This better not be some bait and switch you're playing," he growled over to the waxen-faced man, giving him a searing glare.

"N-No! Mr. Creed I can assure you—"

"That I was tapped for the job first. You're just the fallback choice," the woman cut in coolly before sitting on the side of the table and inspecting her long black nails casually.

"Who the hell do you think you're talkin' to—!"

"To a very slow mutant, that's who," she cut in again, earning a growl of aggravation from Victor before she glanced sharply at him. She sniffed the air, a deliberate gesture that only he caught. "From one feral to another, move on and play big game cat somewhere else. This is a finesse job, not a field trip," she stated with an edge, her eyes narrowing for the first time.

His expression only betrayed a hint of surprise at her announcement. A fellow feral, eh? He'd never encountered a feral female, and he slightly berated himself for not realizing it sooner. Her scent wasn't tart and musky like most females. It had a heady quality. Something raw but pungent, like soil and…blood…not her blood.

His nostrils flared, and he knew she caught his fronting gesture. She smiled at him, her lips pulling to slightly reveal her gleaming teeth. The phone rang again, and this time the man was so eager to get out of the glaring session between the two mutants to take the call. The man blanched once the voice on the other line did the talking, alerting Victor and causing his boyish lips to scowl despite him.

"Yes sir…understood," the man announced and quickly hung the phone up to stare across at the two mutants. "Your terms have been accepted, Ms. Montecristo."

Her eyes flickered back to Victor in a berating stare. "Go home, cub. You were not suited for this work to begin with," she announced scathingly while her tone remained alluringly poised. She glanced back towards the mediator, ignoring Victor as he started to round the table towards her. "You know where to transfer my fee once you've received delivery," she stated and turned back to Victor. The air between them was crackling with electricity that only two ferals could emanate, his body language flaring subtly with his seething rage while she shot icy dismissal back at him and agilely walked pass him with the quality of a specter.

She moved so quick all he felt was the breeze of her movement caress the back of his palm and the side of his mutton-chopped cheek.

"Hey!" Victor barked as he whirled around to face the door.

"It was a pleasure, Mr. Creed," she announced and strode out of the conference room without even a cursory glance back. Victor lunged over to the door before it clicked closed. When he yanked it open and went to pounce on her, she had vanished down the hall, with only her scent left in her wake.

Fuming calmly, he scraped his calloused palm along his furred jaw before raking it back in his inch-long cropped hair. "You know," he growled as he turned back to the men in the room. "I don't take kindly to being made a fool of," he sneered, his jaw clenched and his blue eyes wild with anger.

"I assure you, Mr. Creed, no one intended to waste your time! She had a courier sent directly to my employer with her terms before she even interrupted the meeting. She was the first candidate—!"

"Do you think I give a shit what the excuse is?" he hissed in as he grabbed the man and hoisted him up. "I'm going to get paid what you quoted me, and if I don't get paid, you and your flunkies are going to take a long trip out that window, and if you're still moving by the time I get to the carport, I'm going to snap every bone that isn't broken," he threatened and jerked the man towards said window before shoving him back into his chair.

"Y-Yes of course! I'll pay you out of my own funds, but please—!"

"Yeah yeah, don't hurt you, just shut up and get to writing!" Victor cut in with exasperation as he gestured for the man to hurry up and write the fucking check. He gave the bodyguards a challenging stare, but they stood uselessly with fear, not prepared to die over a middleman's fuck up.

He snatched the check out of the man's trembling fingers, growling as he stalked out of the conference room. Sniffing the staling scent of the smug bitch who'd made an ass out of him, he followed the trail down to the lobby of the Stardust before stalking out into the strip's cold night. The little bitch had just phased out of sight, but her scent clung to his nose still. Sneering at his surroundings, Victor's mind obsessed furiously over what he'd do to the feral bitch if he found her.

The night sky was gritty with lights and clouds over head as he stalked down the strip, fuming contemptuously and spoiling for violence to take his edge off. A woman had never gotten one over on him like that, let alone when it involved his livelihood. She even managed to gauge the extent of his feral mutation with her mocking "cub" condescension. He fumed, unable to think of what else to do but wander to the closest hotel with a stocked bar.

He sat in a corner tucked around the counter, gesturing broodingly for the bartender. "Bourbon, and leave the bottle," he muttered with an edge as he glowered over the rest of the patrons. It was late even for Vegas, but there were a few people drowning their sorrows over debts and their miserable luck. Most of the bustle was out on the casino floor, where the dings and clicks of slot machines mingled with the sounds of winners and losers. Draining his glass, Victor poured himself another as his nostril's flared from the warm aroma. He was there for a good while, staring down into his glass and letting his mind wander. Fucking Stryker…sometimes he wondered if he had been shortsighted; if the perks and pleasure of doing his job had inevitably made him a glorified attack dog. Fuck knows where we'd be if Lagos never had happened...

The cheers and shouts of a hot streak began to grow more constant over at the high rollers section of the casino pit, which spanned directly out in front of the bar. Victor glowered out at the commotion, his nose wrinkling in a sneer as he lifted his glass back to his lips. His sharp eyes skimmed through the crowd that circled a particular blackjack table, where some self-important bastard was beating the house with his winning streak. The asshole looked like a dapper conman as he went all in on the next bet, his arm propped in a lazy way that at first concealed the woman sitting next to him, until he shifted back into his stool and combed his hand through his dirty blond mop of feathered hair when a cheer went around at his win.

"Son of a bitch," Victor muttered over the rim of his glass, his hand halting from raising his bitter drink back to his lips. The red top, the sun-kissed skin, and those sultry lips all perked up as she sat with her long legs crossed, eyeing the bastard on the hot streak when he glanced at her and ran his finger up her bare arm.

He could see a flicker of desire cross the conman's features when he halted and searched her eyes more keenly, his fingers resting at the dip in her arm. Ms. Montecristo's eyes lowered alluringly as she captured his stupefied gaze and flicked it back to the table. Victor watched as he collected his winnings and bowed out of the game, with the small crowd cheering and clapping at his luck.

Fisting a few bills out of his pocket and setting them on the counter without looking away from the couple, Victor stood and walked to the entrance of the bar just as the guy and Ms. Montecristo left the blackjack table and headed for the closest craps table that sat at a risen section of the casino floor close to a bank of slot machines near the elevators. He stalked close to the wall, following them through the crowds before he hung back against a long row of slot machines.

She looked like a poised goddess next to the cheap floosies and drunk cowboys who were shouting their bets and tossing the dice back and forth. When the lucky bastard picked up the dice, he offered them in the palm of his hand for her to blow them for good luck. His eyes honed in on her lips pursing as they blew over the dice, a stray image of her lips wrapping around his cock jumping out in his charged mind. Setting his jaw, Victor forced his heated thoughts away from sex to instead picture her getting flung into a wall before he slashed her condescending smile right off her fucking face. The ticklings of his rising bloodlust made him smile despite his better judgment.

He watched as she seemingly lost interest in the game and turned to walk gracefully away from the craps table. The once debonair conman practically twisted his neck when he turned to follow her, a desperate rise of anxiety overtaking the man as he grabbed the rest of his winnings and followed her like an eager puppy. Victor's brow quirked at the silly sight; he decided to follow them, a plan of sadistic mayhem sprouting in his vicious mind.

He came around the corner just in time to see the man catch up with her. The bastard pressed the elevator button and fished a set of keys out of his jacket. Victor saw the keychain, and knew they were heading up to the high rollers suite. The elevator opened and Ms. Montecristo entered first, quickly followed in by the stupid asshole so he could eagerly click the doors closed behind them. Smirking, he turned and made his way for the staff access, figuring he'd give the little bitch some time so he could burst in on them just at the juiciest moment.

The high rollers suite sat up on the last floor of the hotel, advertising an incredible view and accommodations that only the man with the most chips could earn, if not the biggest mob connections. It was the only room at the top floor, requiring a key just to gain access to the floor from the bay of elevators in the lobby. Well, that, and the staff elevator tucked down the hall and out of sight from the room's double door threshold.

Victor turned the corner and stared down the long hallway, a smirk pulling at his boyish lips as he began stalking quietly towards the gaudy gold and lacquered doors of the suite. His nostrils flared as they caught her uniquely feral scent, making his mouth water. Her scent had shifted somehow to something earthy but familiar to him.

He hadn't scented this particular shift in a woman's smell in more than a few decades, having become accustomed to pillaging more than enticing his bedmates. It was undeniable, however, that Ms. Montecristo was secreting a pheromone that was keen to his nose, which made him wonder if it was the reason for the man's sudden bumbling adoration of her.

Forcing the door unlocked with his claws, Victor slipped into the suite and extended his senses outward, scoping out the living room just through the foyer. He heard the unmistakable groan of a man coming from the bedroom as he entered the living room and had to stifle his chuckle at how starved and pitiful it sounded. He decided to prowl around the suite and look out the huge wall of windows that revealed all of Vegas, getting a feel for his surroundings and debating about taking advantage of the plush accommodations after he killed the two in the bedroom. Not like he'd have to pay for anything. The thought warmed another chuckled up into his throat as he trailed his extended claws to skim a long tear into the upholstery along the top of a huge suede couch while he eyed the bedroom door implacably.

The sounds were getting interesting, and Victor couldn't submerge his curiosity. He licked his lips when the thought of slipping in and watching them screw lingered in his considerations. Sex and killing were his top favorite things to do, especially when one followed the other. Musing the fun of partaking in both involving the lofty bitch who'd intrigued and made a fool out of him, Victor cupped himself through his black jeans with a wicked longing as he sniffed the air for another whiff of her tantalizing scent. The thump of a headboard striking the wall snapped his attention back to the door just when a cry of pain echoed through the door before it was followed by a shriek of horror.

Taken aback, Victor rushed to the door before he could stop himself, throwing it open just as a gurgle and the shifting of the mattress from the man's thrashing and struggling under the woman became more frantic. The unmistakable scent of blood hit him quickly, sending a mix of instinctual signals and stirring his feral drive to numbly gawk at the scene in front of him. The man was propped against the headboard, thrashing wildly under the voracious mouth latched viciously over his jugular. Transfixed, Victor stood at the threshold of the door watching as she dug her talon-like nails into the man's shoulder. The bone of his scapula crunched under the pressure, and he released another strangled yell as she forced his head to snap to the side by tugging the hand fisted into his feathered hair to the opposite angle.

The man's thrashing began to die down into a series of convulsions and spasms as he was quickly bled out. Life went out of his panicked eyes, leaving his expression frozen in vacant terror. A muffled moan came from her then, as if she had literally drank the last drop of his life right out of him. Victor snapped his mouth shut and honed in on her, sitting astride her victim on a plush queen bed with gold accents and burgundy pillows. A huge mirror spanned the wall and ceiling space right over the bed, an infamous reminder of the sort of debauchery that came with the Vegas nightlife. With a slick sound, she unlatched her teeth from the man's neck, revealing the gaping wound that exposed his torn carotid artery and jugular plainly. She sighed and shoved the corpse lightly to lean against the back of the headboard, her eyes closed as she basked in her bloodlust.

Victor noticed her incisors and canines were carnivorous now as she dragged her tongue across them and savored the gore that still clung and dripped all over her mouth. Her teeth retracted back to those of a human just as she flicked her tongue along her bottom lip. Her eyes opened and a predatory smile crept into her features slowly as she glanced at him from the mirror's reflection.

"Ah," she sighed alluringly, "Mr. Creed. I trust you didn't have much trouble finding your way up." She turned then and slinked sinuously across the bed to cup her face in her hands, regarding him with hooded eyes.

Victor was a reticent man, but no one had ever accused him of being at a loss for words. At this instant, however, he found himself gaping down at her from the doorway, his eyes implacable but his jaw working absently in his surprise, clenching and unclenching until the muscle in his jaw twitched. Sprawled out the way she was under a gaudy spotlight over the bed, he finally noticed the sheen of her skin. It gleamed bronze and seemed to shimmer depending on how she moved under the light, reminding him of scales.

"You're a reptilian-based feral," he stated in a gravelly tone, his brows knitted and his scowl intense as he eyed her.

Her eyes flashed with amusement as she sat up fluidly and regarded him smugly. "What gave me away?" she mused, her lips still stained with blood as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand before smiling. The light was hitting the plane of her chest, the sheen of bronze that seemed separate from her natural tan shimmering as she slinked to lounge sensuously on her side.

"Just now, your skin," he muttered bemusedly as he glowered at her, his hostility of earlier rising like ire in his broad and muscular frame. His nostril flared, savoring the scents that were bombarding him. Her scent was like a veil dragging over his keen senses, and the aroma of blood was making him want to do something impulsive. Like dominate and mount the fierce bitch who eyed him appreciatively all of a sudden. "You've been expecting me this whole time," he rumbled, as he stepped closer to her.

She rose on her hands and hissed a growl, warning him to step cautiously. He froze at the sound as an involuntary smirk crept over his lips to show off his fangs. "I suppose you've been spoiling for a fight since you waltzed in and snatched the job out of my claws," he stated as he prowled off to the side where the marble-clad bathroom was, sizing her up with a contemplative swagger.

Chuckling, she rose and met his gaze with her vivid palm green eyes, the russet ring circling her pupils puckering as her keen eyes surveyed his prowl. "We ferals are a temperamental bunch," she offered simply and smiled at the daggers he glared at her. "Especially one so young," she added as a sly afterthought.

Victor barked a derisive laugh. "Oh, now I beg to differ, viper," he countered disrespectfully and sneered at her, watching as her own patronizing smile faltered.

Her lips tightened involuntarily before the stoic mask flinted back over her features. That's a pretty tense…he mused and decided to catalogue the expression.

"You're still a toddler compared to me, cub," she sniffed the air cynically, the blasé air recovered as she leant back onto her knees. "I can smell the impetuous remnants of the antebellum age which borne you, Creed," she drawled in a smooth jeer.

He growled, and she hissed disdainfully at his challenge when a knock echoed from the foyer. Victor's eyes glanced sideways, but he refused to turn and risk having her lunge for his throat.

"Ah, room service has arrived," she announced with a pleasant air as he looked back at her more intensely, the query flickering in his crystalline eyes. "Please help yourself while I…freshen up," she offered with sultry heat flashing in her gaze as she agilely pounced into the bathroom like a graceful lizard vaulting from one perch to another. He blinked, a grunt lodging in his throat just as another louder knock urged him to turn and stalk back to the foyer.

The bellhop flinched at how suddenly the door flew open and then stiffened as he looked up at the behemoth of a man looming in the doorway. "G-Good evening, sir," he stated and forged on, wheeling the cart decked with covered platters through the door that Victor hastily moved out of the way of so the punk wouldn't pinch the tips of his boots. "I must say this is the most eccentric order ever put together by the kitchen, Mr. DeLaughter," the bellhop remarked as he wheeled the cart into the living room and walked back to the door, a crooked smile on his face. "Have a goodnight, sir," he added and waiting at the door, expecting a gratuity.

Victor looked at the cart and back down at the bellhop, his expression darkening as he slammed the door in the kid's face. He heard him yelp behind the door and the ding of the elevator doors opening and closing before he huffed exasperatedly through his nose and stalked back to the bedroom. However, as he passed the cart he halted, sniffing over it and growling at the exquisite smells wafting up from under the plate covers. Snapping one of the covers up, his mouth instantly watered at the medium rare rack of lamb. Well, it was more the lamb's whole ribcage, and it looked oh so tender.

"That smells divine," she purred, stirring his gaze towards her. She was leaning against the doorframe, her eyes lowered in contemplation of him, her mouth clean from the gore of her kill. "No need to be modest now. Help yourself," she spoke as she slinked around the couch towards him.

She ignored him entirely as she uncovered a lid and inhaled the seasoned and almost raw meat stacked on the plate. His muscles were flexed tight from tension as he growled down at her, hating how hard it was to read her motives, let alone her perplexing behavior.

When she stood up and scanned his features, something snapped in him. He grabbed her and flung her back, unable to repress his burning rage and the nagging feeling she was trying to make a fool out of him again.

She vaulted in the air and landed against the wall where she dug her nails into the plaster before snarling at him. He tried to submerge his surprise as he bared his fangs and snarled back. Shoving the cart away, he prowled in his aggressive stance, spoiling for a clash. Instead, she skated down from the wall to land in a crouch, the couch between them, and tossed her long hair out of her face.

"Must you behave like a petulant brat?" she hissed and stood slowly, a predatory inclination flashing in her angry eyes. "So I took a job from you. It was my job to begin with," she jeered sharply.

"Keep talking to me like that and I'll skin your scaly hide and fashion a new coat for myself," he growled threateningly, incensed with this unpredictable bitch.

She only scoffed mockingly at his threat. "I heard the ruthless Victor Creed was a vicious and brooding bully for hire, but this by far exceeds anything I would've expected from a supposed professional," she chided regally, and before Victor could react, he was flung against his own wall from a shift kick to the gut. Before he could scramble to the balls of his feet, she pounced onto him and clasped her hand deftly around his throat.

A sensation began to lace up his skin as he thrashed trying fling her off of him, but found his arms feeling heavy and useless at his sides. He snarled wildly up at her, but couldn't move as a numbing feeling trickled down into his extremities. She curled down close to him and dragged the back of her hand up the side of his neck and along a mutton-chopped cheek, leaving the same tingling and numbing sensation in its wake. His lips could only manage a sharp sneer, baring his fangs as he seethed at her through his clenched teeth.

"Oh stop your braying," she grumbled, a hint of her Spanish accent slurring into her tone from her aggravation. "This should've been a lesson learned decades ago, cub," she scoffed and sat astride over his broad muscular chest.

"What—th'fuck you do to me?" he spat out and tried to will his body to react, only to manage a slow struggle under her.

The light above her head poured over her arms, and he watched as her skin seemed to flicker from a bronze sheen into a more golden shimmer that complimented her sun-kissed skin. "A reptilian defense mechanism. My skin allows me to secrete pheromones that are transferred through tactile contact with another person, manipulating their own nervous system," she offered simply as she stood off of him and walked gracefully to the cart. "I can manipulate the type of pheromone, lacing either rapture, stillness, or poison into a person through skin contact," she explained over her shoulder as she plucked a piece of lamb and popped it into her mouth, savoring the pink flesh before turning to stare down at him. "As you can guess, my skin was shimmered with stillness, so just touching your skin laced the pheromone to frazzle some of your neurotransmitters, forcing your nervous system to go haywire. The sensation will last for a few more minutes, which is just enough time to talk, eh cub?" she expounded smoothly as she waltzed over and crouched at his side.

It explained why she wore a top that left her lithe form mostly bare. He turned his head as best as he could and glowered at her. "Why not kill me," he slurred, but wasn't stammering as he was a moment ago.

"I figured it would be a great indignity to the both of us if I just poisoned you. We're ferals. We mutants might be a quickly growing species, but there aren't a lot of ferals like you and I," she explained unperturbedly and extended her fingers to scratch affectionately at the scruff on his jaw, as if he was rambunctious pet. "Besides, we both know poisoning you wouldn't kill you, and you went through such trouble to stalk me that I'm a bit flattered. Not everyday one is prowled by the Sabertooth," she purred affably.

His features were implacable and chiseled into a biting scowl as he eyed her. "Didn't know you were a fan," he ground out, the numbness wearing off slowly, his fingers flexing and his muscles beginning to clench against the stillness, as she called it.

"Not a fan, Mr. Creed. My business is information. I know my market and conversely, I make it my interest to know of agents who kill for hire. Anyone sensible knows their competition, as well as stays aware of the industries that crisscross their own market," she spoke, stretching to lean over him so he could see her skin shimmer again. "So instead of lunging at me, live and learn, cub."

He grunted sourly and wrinkled his nose. "So to your logic, not only did I encroach on your job, but I degraded your area of expertise," he snorted derisively. "Tell me, miss, when was the last time you got dominated?" he suddenly mocked, and at the intake of her breath, he knew he had flustered her a bit.

"Bite your tongue or I'll tear it out of your wretched mouth!" she seethed in his face, feeling the wave of hostility wash over him. Her scent fluctuated from earthiness to musk, a musky scent that piqued his interests. Victor couldn't help admire the viciousness of her threat, or feel the electricity it caused in him.

"Oh, did I brush a sore subject?" he sneered and sat up suddenly, the stillness still making it hard for him to be as fluid and agile as he normally was, but flitting away to allow for some mobility. Instead of scampering away from him, she grabbed a fistful of his coat lapels and hauled him effortlessly to his feet, before letting go so he'd stumble onto his knees. He bared his teeth and lunged an arm out at her but she was too quick for him, indignant at being put in a submissive position. "Once this shit wears off I'm going to rip you to pieces, bitch!" he spat as he skulked towards her on his hands and knees.

She rolled her eyes down at him. "When you're quite through, I'll be in the bedroom," she huffed and grabbed a platter to take with her to the room.

Victor bellowed at her, and fell to his side, trying to will every fiber of his body to fucking work already. Lying on his side, he contemptuously mused over how much of a fool he felt like. He had continually underestimated this feral woman and was becoming her puppet for fodder. His mind had been on a steady collision course, but he hadn't bothered to anticipate her feral prowess. He tried to argue that his lapse was purely momentary, but here he was, on the carpeted floor like a useless frail waiting to regain his faculties. Whatever personal berates he had were ebbed away by his trigger temper, which caused him to scornfully seethe and try to ignore that intrigue had played part in his folly.

From the minute she had walked into the conference room, his eyes had roved over her trying to quench a gnawing curiosity he hadn't nurtured in several decades. This woman was a complete anomaly to him, having thwarted his feral instincts with her own, which were far more honed than his. At the very least, he was confident that her little 'stillness' ploy wouldn't work on him again, but she still had two other skin pheromones left.

He flexed his arms, regaining his faculties fast enough for him to skulk into a crouch before attempting to stand. His head rushed a bit, but for the most part he felt like he was owner of his body once again. He lurched over the couch before bracing himself on the back spine. Okay, this was going to be problematic. He wanted to pounce on the bitch and brawl, tear her apart, while a small part of him wanted to dominate her lofty ass. The idea of her begging under him and her sultry mouth crying out and mewling uncontrollably was like a slap that momentarily deterred him from doing anything but contemplating her.

Strategy usually took a back seat to raw instinct, but Victor had been bitch slapped with the fact that instinct wasn't going to help him against a fellow feral, especially one as sly and cunning as Montecristo. She had the forethought to know how dangerous he was, even enough of his background to openly mock him, but still considered him an opponent and a challenge to her autonomy as a female feral. His experience was limited. When he and Jimmy were together, he'd been the clear leader, while Jimmy followed him and respected his alpha status. Of course over the years that slowly eroded into something else Victor didn't want to acknowledge, especially now as he glared at the cart of food and then over at the bedroom, but the fact remained: he was the dominant force, always had been, and he planned continuing to be so.

This woman wasn't going to be intimidated, coerced, or beaten bloody, no matter how much he lamented the last part. She'd clearly been a rogue, not backing down from a challenge to her autonomy or being prowled by any other feral…except tonight. Then he wondered if she had invited his curiosity, nurtured it even.

Oh yeah she did—he mused to himself and growled. The food, letting him stumble upon her kill, even not killing him when he'd made his motives clear were all indicators that she had something else in mind. Impetuous…Cub…She hadn't been mocking him. She had been teasing him! The realization made him feel awkward in his own skin. No one had ever gone out of their way to bait him playfully, not even Jimmy. This was a game to her!

He snarled. Playing games that he wasn't in on…not sure he wanted to be in on, was a dangerous scenario. What he was trying to figure out was whether it was dangerous for her, or for him.

Steeling himself, he growled and stalked towards the bedroom, prepared to show the little viper what he did to people who crossed him.

"Do you know what era was my favorite?" She glanced up briefly from the portable machine resting on her lap; the corpse still slumped besides her.

Victor's eyes roved over her, and the weight that settled on his tongue formed a lump in his throat when he swallowed. He took in her bare legs, sculpted sinuously and stretched out on the bed. She'd shed her Calvin's and that sexy red top, which were now draped over the chair next to the bedroom window, and was wearing a man's silk dress shirt. The dead man's scent was laced on the shirt, so he figured she raided his things. He noticed the clutter of papers and discs that were rifled out from the briefcase still ajar on the foot of the bed, the plate cleaned of the meat discarded on the night table.

He was still in the doorway, sizing her up and trying to pick up a scent of guile from her as she continued speaking, "The 1940s. Everywhere you went, there was such vitality, even during Nazi occupation. Even here, with fear and death just around the corner as war raged in far off continents…you could taste people wanting to live, fighting for it with everything they had. I love that."

"Love, huh," Victor rumbled with a savage gleam in his eyes as he repressed a derisive smirk. "I gotta say this for you," he sauntered towards the briefcase. "You're keeping me on my toes," he sneered and shoved the briefcase carelessly to the floor as he leaned on the bed, purposely invading her space with hostile boasting to cajole a response out of her.

She remained poised and unflinching, eyeing him with a cool air dancing across her features before she flashed him a smile. "What's your favorite period so far, cub," she purred, skating her legs up to cross at the knees as she shut the monitor of the portable machine, her left foot dangling teasingly a few inches away from his face.

Her slim foot was tipped with black toenails, and he knew they were naturally that color because he didn't smell acrid chemical polish. "Don't have one," he rumbled in a measured tone as he prowled onto the bed—the mattress sagging with his heavy frame— her foot casually swaying away as he chomped the air dangerously close to it. The huge mattress was protesting under his muscled frame as he skirted towards her right on his hands and knees, his entire body exuding animalistic interest. "Every decade had its own delicious appeal,'' he mused snidely. He couldn't sense any malice from her, or any wound up tension that told him she was buying her time before she pounced at him. If anything, he was being bombarded by her fluctuating scent.

She smelled of blood and something musky, heady in quality but sweet in sensation as it raked over him in undulating waves. His mouth was watering from the instinctual pull of a male predator prowling around a female predator, and he knew she was eyeing him the way an animal silently cues another that they are lying in wait for their move. He recoiled suddenly, halting and laughing scathingly at her as he announced, "Oh, you want to fuck, is that all? Expecting me to initiate?"

It was her turn to laugh at him. "Oh, aren't you the alpha male. So cute," she condescended and gently placed the portable computer onto the night table. "I like seeing you sweat, cub. Trying to figure me out and decide just when to lunge for my throat," she declared with a heat he couldn't place in her fluid tone. "It really is a scrumptious sight…almost as scrumptious as your scent," she purred and ambled over the corpse to the opposite side of the bed he was skirting.

Fuck. She could smell the lust that ebbed through the fronting and ravenous fury that was simmering under his skin. His brows furrowed with tension before he bared his fangs at her. "I don't like being played with, viper!" he spat and lunged at her.

Just as his hands pawed at her shoulders, Victor was unceremoniously flung into the air when she rolled back and used his own momentum to flip him away from her. He grunted when he skidded into the bathroom and slammed into the sink, demolishing the porcelain basin. Incensed, he roared as he galloped toward her and pounced onto her, flinging them both over the bed before rolling and crashing to the floor.

She hissed and wrapped her legs around his waist, vaulting him over her head so she could roll and land on top of him. When she leaned close to brush the skin of her cheek against his, Victor gripped her by her clothed upper arm and tossed her off of him. She landed on her stomach before crouching into an animal attack stance, her teeth extending to snarl at him.

He was on his feet just as she lunged at him, her nails clawing at him and nicking the side of his neck before he grabbed the back of her head and plunged his claws into her toned belly. She cried out harshly and gripped his wrist before she forced him back against the wall and snapped her vicious mouth towards his throat, his grip on the back of her hair preventing her from gnarling a chunk of him. He twisted his wrist and received a searing gash as her nails dug into his skin while his claws simultaneously gnarled deeper into her abdomen. His pulse spiked and he roared against her lips just as she dove forward and kissed him.

The contact jarred him, so he shoved her away and hesitated when she panted wildly and absently trailed her hand over her belly. His eyes widened at how her puckered slashes began to knit together and returned to smooth skin. It healed so quickly blood didn't even have a chance to seep out of the wounds. She eyed his wrist before focusing her searing gaze on his. "Accelerated healing factors will make this one long dance, Creed," she scintillated and tugged at the tear in the shirt.

"You cunning fucking viper," he scoffed harshly, knowing it shouldn't have surprised him. If she was older than him as she kept boasting, her mutation had to involve some sort of regenerative trait comparable to his. Didn't mean he had to fucking like it. "Doesn't change my plans. I'm still going to skin you alive, just now I think I'll do so after I fuck you bloody!" he growled in controlled vexation as he took his coat off and flung it out to the living room. She couldn't help but laugh, the sound sultry and dripping with allure. "The prospect of getting raped amusing?" he snapped and stalked towards her.

She crawled backwards onto the bed and hummed at him. "Unfortunately for you, Mr. Creed, you can't rape the willing," she offered with a biting edge of seduction as she sprawled onto her side before him.

That did it. His cock was straining painfully against his zipper at her luscious jeer. He'd been half-hard since he walked into the suite, even when she'd had him stunned out of his system. Now he felt a primordial need that paled in comparison to the violent urges he wanted to inflict on her. This was baser than the desire for sexual conquest, and that fact was like a brick to the face. The adrenaline in his blood was floored, with every nerve standing at attention and commanding him to force her into submission and mount her just like the big animal he was. He usually obeyed his urges as soon as they jumped inside of him, just like he would when the desire to kill and devour roared in him. But the fact remained that a willing conquest was alien to him, especially when his current prey was a huntress capable of fighting him tooth and nail for dominance.

Then the situation snapped into full clarity.

"Oh," his baffled mutter was soon washed away by the raucous laughter that burst to life in him, "You sexy, vicious little viper." His voice lowered to a hungry husk when she raised a brow and leaned up on her hands and knees, her muscles tightening in anticipation. "I should've figured it out earlier. Hah," he mused and turned away from her to exit the room, his demeanor dismissive; he'd finally figured out the rules of the game.

She made a noise of confusion in her throat, vaulting off the bed and unto her feet to tentatively follow him. When she entered the living room, he was at the cart, flinging the plate covers to the floor and polishing off a plate of sirloin steak as he considered the other entrees. She blinked at him before looking at his dark heavy coat at her feet. Picking it up with her foot and flinging it onto the back of the nearest chair, she measured her unconsciously fluid lope towards him, her hands twitching impulsively. Her senses were sharp and wary, while his had suddenly diminished to an unperturbed frequency.

All the cues were wrong now. He wasn't the alpha predator drunk with rage or desire. Instead, he was exuding disinterest. Flippancy in a predator towards another predator was tantamount to a challenge, a silent jeer; you're not worthy.

He smelled the shift. She was fuming, growing livid from how he'd disregard her as a predator that deserved fear and challenge.

"Got anything to wash this down with, viper?" Her eyes were boring into him as he tossed an empty plate to clatter on the cart before reaching for another. "Ah, nevermind. The bar is right in here," he snickered nonchalantly as he headed behind the marble counter to his right and rummaged in the cabinets, snatching out a few bottles of scotch and bourbon before walking back around to drop into the smoky loveseat closest to where the cart was. He twisted the bottle of scotch open and took a long swig from it, eyeing her impishly over the rim when he pulled it away from his lips with a content sigh. "What, suddenly not hospitable, frail—?"

She lunged at him, her momentum tipping the couch back and jostling them into a tangle of limbs as they fought to maim and chomp at each other. Bottle of scotch flying out of his hand, Victor barked a berating laugh when he rocked her over his head and flipped to slam down onto her. She head-butted him in the mouth swiftly, cutting his laugh off and causing him to bite into his bottom lip. Suddenly, she wrapped her legs around his waist and dove for his mouth to latch her lips onto his.

The coppery taste of his blood drew a moan from her, and Victor could smell her spike of feral accomplishment as she bit down and drew more of his blood into her mouth. He froze, growling against her mouth before tearing his away and snarling at her. Her hand tried to claw at his face, but he slammed it to the floor before pinning it between their struggling and flailing bodies. The little bitch was trying to touch him for who the hell knew what!

"Nah-ah-ah, viper," he hissed haughtily at her when her other hand tried to scrape against his throat. He pinned that one against his clothed chest, her nails clanking against his dog tags. "You're not playing by the rules," he goaded and she growled like a serpent under him.

"I see it took you this long to realize just what the rules were, brat!" she lunged and chomped at him, but he reared back on his heels before taking her by the cuffed wrists and swinging her away from him. She rolled onto the carpet before flipping into the air and onto her feet like a martial artist. "I guess you were right, cub," she bitingly announced, hissing as she kicked the small coffee table at him.

The table shattered when it crashed against his shoulder and fell in a splintered heap at his feet. "Oh, don't be such a spoiled sport, bitch," he chuckled viciously and stalked over the destroyed furniture to rush at her. When she skated out of his grasp and pounced on him, he used her own momentum to slam her down on the large suede couch. The damn thing sagged and the legs snapped from under them from the force.

Unfazed, she yelled and kicked her long leg up, the heel of her foot connecting with his mandible and snapping his head back with an audible crack. He wavered on his feet, the blow making him see stars before he stumbled over the upturned loveseat. Shaking his head, he felt the whiplash jar down his spine before he popped the vertebrae in his neck back into place like an expert.

"If you open your fucking mouth," she bellowed, pointing a wrathful finger at him, "I'll pump you full of so much poison you'll choke on your own fucking tongue!"

"Oh-ho! Feisty. Keep talking like that and you might get me hot, sugar," he laughed, instigating further by swaggering around her in a wide, slow stride. "And what am I right about? That you're in a rut looking for a fuck?"

This time she returned his contemptuous grin with a chilly smile. "No, that I should've killed you as soon as your brute ass came prowling after me like a horny dog," she seethed as she trailed her hand up her side to snap a button off the now shabby silk shirt.

He snarled a warning. "Your mouth is going to look so good choking on my cock, frail," he growled sadistically, his eyes flashing when she popped another button off her shirt, "Not to mention feel delicious." The lapels were tugging wide, revealing the plane of her clavicle, and the sudden copper sheen that shimmered over her skin. Gold, bronze, and copper. He realized each were the subtle indicator for one of her pheromones. Gold was from the stillness. "Planning on using rapture on me, viper?"

Her eyes flared before cooling bemusedly. "I don't use rapture on the likes of you, Creed," she sneered.

So it was poison then. "Aw, but you'll poison me? How frigid," he bared his teeth in a sinister smirk. "I saw you use rapture on that fucker you bled in the room. What's he got that I don't?" he teased, nostrils flaring at the wave of anger that flooded her scent.

Flickering with something unreadable, Ms. Montecristo's features grew smooth and composed. Victor knew he hit a nerve, but was taken aback when she replied softly, "He was food. You're an animal. I don't play with my food."

He paused in his prowl, contemplating her with blazing eyes. "Why not use it to get what you want?" he rumbled, his gaze intensifying as he stalked closer. "Face it, toots, we both know you want your pretty ass dominated. You've wanted me to mount you since the conference room. Why not caress some rapture into me and get what you want?" he husked in order to submerge the gnawing curiosity he had about her convoluted motives.

She scoffed, and actually turned away to stare contemplatively out the windows at the glimmering desert night. A soft laugh warmed up her slender throat; Victor watched her, roving his eyes over the now translucent shirt that was too pale to hide her tan silhouette, too intrigued to take advantage of her lowered guard.

"Where is the struggle; the battle to take what you want from..." her words drifted and she waved the sentence away dismissively.

"An animal vying to take and be taken," he finished for her, his voice a gruff statement.

That was the drive of most rogue animals. To fight, devour, and dominate another just as strong and feral as them; to lord over an equal or be taken by one worthy enough to square off against you…to be claimed by a stronger adversary and relish in the struggle. You could taste people wanting to live, fighting for it with everything they had. Her words purred back to him. I love that.

"Why take someone unwillingly under the rouse of will," she muttered pensively as she wandered away from him, trailing her nails against the glass as she neared the bedroom. "If you can't see the struggle in their eyes, the fear and thrill, the burning of blood and muscle clawing to be on top, and the pure rapture that comes with the fight for conquest…the vitality of it all," she stated and turned towards him as she leaned against the doorframe. "If all that is numbed and handed off for the sake of empty lust, then what's the point of living like an animal to begin with?"

He totally agreed. She had obviously faced facts that being stronger didn't matter if everyone else was naturally weaker than you. The lure of strength, of dominating, was not about all the weaker people you could crush, but the other stronger people you could clash against; that could tear you down just as savagely as you could tear them apart.

She gazed at him with composed strength, her poised and curvaceous figure barely contained in the now tattered and torn shirt. When she crossed her arms, the shirt's tails rode up and showed a hem of white lace along her hip. His mouth watered as he stared back up into her eyes. He knew his heated look was something voracious and wild from how her eyes lowered in silent instigation.

In three long strides he was in front of her.

Gathering her up in his arms, Victor dove hungrily for her mouth, kissing her roughly and nipping his fangs over her lips bestially. She clawed at his shoulders and wove her legs deftly around his waist as he hoisted her against him, purring when he ground his crotch against her. He stalked into the room and scraped rough kisses along her jaw before latching his mouth over her pulse, pricking his fangs into the skin and savoring the taste of her heady blood. She arched and hissed against him, rubbing herself along the prominent ridge of his erection and dragging her pointed nails down to his collarbones. He shuddered, sinking his teeth deeper into her neck and growling as he sprawled onto the foot of the bed.

He extended his claws and kneaded her round ass, loving the texture of her smooth and burning skin while she clawed her hands down his spine. She suckled hard on his bottom lip before flicking her tongue against his fangs. "Your scent is making me dizzy, cub," she hissed and arched against him when his hands snaked from the small of her back to journey up her sides and cupped her breasts roughly in his warm calloused hands. Shoving his unbuttoned dress shirt hastily off his shoulders and tugging them off his arms, she followed up by forcing the snug sleeveless shirt over his head before he grabbed her possessively and scraped his fangs angrily down her neck to her shoulder.

"Keep calling me that, and I'll stuff that hot mouth of yours with my cock," he growled. His claws raked over the taut muscles and pinched superficial gouges that scented the air between them with blood, the scratches healing quickly before his nails bit into more of her skin. She pursed her lips in amusement against his throat, her tapered fingers digging into the back of his scalp as she scraped her teeth down his neck before clamping her mouth down on the juncture linking shoulder to neck. Victor grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the bed, digging his nails into her skin when she hissed in challenge. "Extend your teeth and bite me for real," he demanded, snarling in her face before she flipped him over her head and rolled to land on top of him.

"So eager for pain already?" she sauntered provocatively against his lips as her canines and incisors extended. "What if I like how you taste and decide to nibble, cub?" She raked her nails down his sculpted torso to start working his jeans undone, nipping at his abdomen while her nails tugged roughly on unfastening his pants.

Victor growled in favor of her ardent suggestion, the pet name ignored as he fisted his hands into her long dark hair and felt the constricting pressure in his crotch ease from the confines of his denim prison. When she freed his erection, she scraped her ferocious teeth down the underside of the shaft before laving the angry welts with her tongue. Victor hissed in pleasure at the sensation, his hips bucking off the bed and urgently thrusting toward her mouth.

She hummed in amusement, ducking away and leaving Victor desperate for the heat of her mouth. A groan of impatience lodged in his throat. He was content with having her suck him off, but a burning urge in his gut began to simmer while he debated about mounting her or pounding into her. An image of her legs draped over his shoulder as he plundered her sent a jolt of pleasure to his groin. The sting of her teeth tickled, making him even more ravenous. A grin played on his lips as he sat up to watch her, stiffening when he saw the corpse still slumped on the bed. The cadaver was blue-faced and left limp, shifting with their movements on the mattress.

Fisting her hair and tugging her up from her delicious oral torture, the sour-faced mutant feral sneered, "Do us a favor and get rid of that? It's stinking up the mood…and I don't like the way it's staring at me."

She peered over her shoulder at the corpse before turning to meet his comical gaze. She laughed lightheartedly and pawed at his chest as she leaned in to muse, "What, you've never forgotten to toss your leftovers?"

Her playful cruelty made him hot. "Just get him off the bed or there won't be anything left of you," he husked, adding thoughtfully, "I wouldn't mind making you my dinner." He smiled nastily when she raised a brow at him.

"You devoured most of the room service already," she sneered and combed her talons through the dark hair of his chest, fingering the chain of his dog tags before idly admiring how they glinted under the light.

"Oh, hunger has nothing to do with it. You've provoked me enough to owe me a chunk of flesh," he tersely snickered and emphasized his point by dragging his fangs down her neck and biting down hard on her shoulder.

Sighing at the heat of his mouth piercing her skin, she hesitated in shoving him away and reluctantly eyed her kill, not wanting things to cool. But, he really didn't like the corpse, so she slinked over and hauled the dead man up by his shirt and arm, lifting and dragging him into the bathroom where she unceremoniously chucked him into the huge bathtub.

"Goodness, the staff will be cleaning this mess up for weeks," she mused and strutted over to stand at the threshold. She crossed her arms, the shirt hanging precariously in a tattered heap on her shoulders, only two buttons holding it closed. The vivid russet around her pupils seemed to glow, standing out in the frond green of her eyes.

Determinedly focused on her ravage-worthy body, Victor leapt off of the bed and slammed her against the wall, pressing into her and clutching at her as he tore her tattered shirt open. She gasped and arched against him, her legs nimbly wrapping around him as she struggled to align her hips with his while simultaneously trying to shove his pants off his hips down to his thighs.

He seized her wrists and jerked them over her head to be pinned brutishly against the wall, thwarting her resolute urging. "Ah-ah, you didn't get permission to undress me, viper," he hissed darkly while his eyes took on a lustfully smoky quality.

"You didn't object, cub," she wriggled against him, nubile and limber as she laughed heartily down at him. "I've allowed you this much, so just how are you going to claim supremacy with your pants still on?" she purred, watching as his eyes flashed angrily at the challenge. It was as if he didn't have her under submission. So she thought she was still in full reign, eh?

"I think you're right, viper," he grinned ferociously, his canines denting his lip. "I keep forgetting you're no ordinary frail," he mocked before tossing her to the bed. When she bounced into the air, Victor took the moment of her freefall to savor the sight of her generous breasts and her hourglass shape as she shrugged out of the shirt.

Only wearing her pristine panties, she landed on her knees and laughed, discarding the tattered shirt. "You're not going to provoke me with silly terms, cub. 'Frail'? If you're going to bait me you need to try another strategy," she jovially teased and combed her hair back out of her face. "Now get over here before I use you for a scratch post," she purred, her teeth clicking as she grinned leeringly at his ramrod cock standing proudly from his pants.

He looked incredibly delectable to her, especially when he shoved his boots and stripped his intrusive pants off. There was no question that he was the most virile and worthy specimen that had crossed her path in her brief eon of life…at least not for many decades. His presence electrified the air around her, tickling her skin and disarming her more than she would ever show.

She hadn't expected him to be the free agent vying for the job when she stormed into the conference room. His scent had been abrasively tantalizing her from the minute she stepped into the hall, a wild and heady mixture of soil, blood, and his own kind of feral musk. Ferociously heady, but surprisingly appealing to her. He smelled warm, as if heat itself melted outwards from his pores. No, she had never seen him before, but his reputation preceded him.

She hadn't been completely sure of who she was contending with until the mediator had flustered his name, terrified of the feral behemoth dressed in black with the eyes of icy water. The fact that the Sabertooth stood across from her had taken her aback. This wasn't his kind of work, nor was she sure he even knew how far he'd strayed into the quicksand of private contracts. But she knew exactly who he was. His work had left a wake of stories and bodies that had most cold-blooded killers stiff with wary respect…and fear.

Fear tasted so delicious.

His eyes caught hers in a silent struggle for dominance just as she crawled provocatively towards him on the bed. Their cues were of two dominant forces unprepared to relinquish control. No matter how much she wanted him, there was no way she was going to roll over and be dominated without a real battle.

"Do you need a written invitation?"

Her teasing jeer made his ire rise, a primal growl rumbling from his chest as he pounced onto her before she could suppress the pleasure that shone in her eyes. They slammed against each other and thrashed wildly for the upper hand, earning them both slashes and stinging wounds that mended just as quickly as the next blow came. Victor pinned her under his barrel chest, grinding against her breasts and charged by the friction of her skin against his. Hissing and arching against him, she purposely slammed her pelvis against his hips, crushing his erection against the heat of her apex before grinding wantonly against it.

Victor roared his approval before clawing his hands between their burning bodies to paw at her god-forsaken panties. When he pulled back to yank the intrusive underwear off her, she dove up at him and slammed him back against the bed, digging her nails into the back of his shoulders as she sunk her elongated canines and incisors into the ropy muscle joining his neck and shoulder. Victor stiffened under her and purred drunkenly, extending his vicious nails and digging them into her back. She mewled and tore into his muscle more before worrying the bloody flesh between her teeth soothingly.

Betraying himself to the bliss of pain and pleasure, Victor allowed her to taste his blood again, her lips pursing and sucking hard on the wound and keeping it from healing. His head was swimming with sensations, but the incensed animal inside of him couldn't believe he was on his back, being devoured by another. The savage half of him that would never listen to reason rose to the surface, and the world spun as he roared irately and slammed her indignantly against the headboard, the mirror rattling above the bed dangerously as he yanked back on her dark mane of hair and bared her throat to his ravenous mouth while his claws dug into the small of her back.

She gasped as his teeth sunk into her throat, blood rising to sputter into his mouth while she arched and clutched onto him. Her reaction jolted Victor and slapped him back to rein his sadism before the animal inside of him ran too wild. He unlatched his teeth from her throat and reared back to stare into her searing eyes hooded with desire. The fact that she was arching and clutching at him wasn't what had electrified him, oh no he had experienced that thousands of times…it was how she did it; not from fear or in the throes of helpless agony, but with desire—wanting and demanding more brutality from him as if his sadism was sweeter than bliss itself.

He watched as the wound his fangs had left on her throat mended shut, her eyes staring into his with a tickle of approval. She exhaled a breath through her mouth like a soft sigh before lulling her head back to stare up at their reflection in the mirror. His eyes followed hers up to the mirror, and he took in the sight of them with a ferocious accomplishment that he reveled in for seconds longer than he should have. When she wrapped her hands around his neck and nimbly ground against him, it took all his control not to ram into her to the hilt. He knew she wanted him to go wild, and as a true sadist he would do anything to prolong her torture, even if it meant delaying his usual bestial repertoire.

Leaving a frail broken and bloody, gasping for death before proudly delivering her to an excruciating end was normal custom, one he had grown to enjoy with every fiber of his vicious being, but one he knew with begrudging resentment and enthralling intrigue wouldn't work on his current prize.

The prey in his arms was willing, ruthless, and hungry for everything he could give and was damn willing to reciprocate with equal intensity and ferocity. She wouldn't break, or fall to pieces from the hot white pain he could inflict. The proof was literally staring at him in the mirror. She was watching him, intoxicated by the heavy current of possessive desire and bestial longing that was in-tuning them to each other. The viper was daring him to mark her; to make her his just before he claimed her body the way a feral should.

He wouldn't oblige her just yet. No, the animal wanted to have at her, wanted to pound into her and latch onto her until he found a way to make her bleed and scream…the animal wanted to devour her, to claim her just like all the other kills. It wanted to relish in her death and climax all at once, but unlike the Sabertooth, Victor Creed still remained and knew he could not devour her. Not physically. She was an enigma the feral side of him was astonished and distressed by all at once. Was it the same for her? No, clearly it wasn't. She wanted the animal…and the animal wanted her just as bad, but Victor craved more than the ferocious glee and fulfillment of crushing the life out of her. It vexed him…worried him, and that made him angry all over again. But the craving remained, viscerally compelling while the anger fleeted away.

No, he wouldn't oblige either of them just yet.

His fist tightened on her hair, yanking her taut as a bow against his chest as he leaned over her. The breath hitched in her throat and her nails dug into his biceps, but he ignored her reactions and pressed his nose against the hot skin of her neck. She smelled sweet and wet, her anticipation like a soft current along her skin that tickled his tongue when he dragged it leisurely from her neck down to the dip of her clavicle. His other hand pawed up to clamp over one of her breasts, the pads of his fingers savoring the texture of her skin as he lulled his mouth down the valley of her chest.

She hissed and dug her nails deeper into his arms, but he ignored the pain and the impulse to retaliate, focusing instead on driving her wild under him. When she wriggled in his grasp, he tugged warningly on her hair and continued committing her to memory. He knew she could sense the wound up tension and bloodlust that emanated behind his every touch and caress, which is exactly how he wanted it. Instead of relaxing under his unabashed touch, she tensed further, her senses frayed and expectant of the claws and teeth that wanted to tear into her but just weren't.

Eyes staring up into the mirror, she watched as he coursed from worrying her studded nipples between his teeth to rub his hand over the lithe plane of her belly. He seemed struck by the smooth texture and hairless skin, tantalized by the uniqueness of her feminine form. She numbly stared as his eyes lingered over the thin shadow that curved faintly down her belly shy of her womb.

When she tensed and jerked from his fingers firmly caressing the length of the smooth scar, he snapped his gaze up to hers in the mirror's reflection. They gazed at each other implacably before he shoved his hand between her thighs and brushed his knuckles along the cleft of her sex, rubbing against her hidden bud. She shuddered and thrust against his hand, gasping when the grip at her hair moved to clamp around her throat instead.

The ire in her eyes aroused him from its intensity while he licked his lips and tasted her on them. Her hands unhinged themselves from his biceps to drag down to his forearms, her glare challenging him to dominate her.

Instead, Victor dove for her mouth, kissing her fiercely before positioning her onto his lap. When he pushed up into her tight heat, she cried out and shut her eyes at the delicious intrusion. Chuckling against her jaw, Victor snaked his hand from her throat to wriggle her wrists together, holding them behind her back in a vice like grip before meeting her captivating eyes with his smoky gaze.

"Now that I have your attention," he hissed darkly, rotating his hips for emphasis. "We're going to mate. I'm going to fuck you with everything I have, and you better damn well do the same. No muss, no fuss, and if you fuss, I'm going to leave you in your rut, no matter how good your cunt is, understood, viper?" he declared nastily and allowed his smirk to creep slowly across his lips as her eyes intensified on him and her lips softened.

Leaning up to meet him nose to nose, despite the strain of having her arms pulled taut behind her, the feral woman returned his smirk. "That's the most sensible thing you've said all night, cub," and with that biting purr, she kissed him voraciously while simultaneously contracting around his throbbing shaft lasciviously.

She savored his groan, their tongues laving over sharp peaks briefly before Victor slammed into her. Biting down on his lip, she mewled in approval before Victor knocked the wind out of her with the pounding force of his next thrust. He rolled suddenly and forced her taut under him, his grip still tight around her wrists behind her back and leaving her precariously supported by his hips between her thighs and her legs around his waist. They were both charged with predatory lust after all the challenging and chest beating, which had ironically been the closest thing to foreplay for both of them in years. Relegating their standoff into a truce where both consensual predators silently agreed to share dominance, the nefarious agent and mercenary lost themselves into the hypersensitive throes of wild sex, literally.

Victor panted harshly as he pounded with abandon into the tight heat of her body, digging his extended claws into her toned thighs and rubbing his mutton-chopped cheek against the inside of her knee while she arched her back off the bed and hummed with pleasure. Crouching over her and forcing her knees to loop over his forearms, Victor suckled on her breast harshly before she raked her talons down his shoulders and hissed eagerly for more. They didn't utter a word to each other, lost in the primordial synchronization of mating. When one wanted to shift positions, the other rolled with them, unspokenly compliant as long as the sensations increased. So when a few rolls and forceful shoves got him on his back with her riding him hard, Victor only growled and thrust up to match her pace, relishing in the unrestrained savagery of their coupling.

Most frails would've been broken and shrieking in agony by now from the force and brutality of his thrusts, if they could even muster enough breath to stay conscious that is. For him, half the fun was in breaking his toy just before he climaxed, so he could feel the life go out of them just as he reached release. Now, however, he found himself attuned to an animal magnetism that left him desperate for her reactions and reciprocity. This was a desire he'd never entertained, but the advent of it left him buzzing for more.

Lunging up to wrap his arms around her, Victor slammed her down to the bed in one fluid motion before kissing her with blistering intensity, one which she met head on by returning his hungry kiss and clinging to him as he lost himself to the animal. In a haze of roaring pulses, flesh colliding against flesh, and ravenous passion echoed against lips and teeth, both ferals managed to fuck each other into the oblivion of mind-numbing ecstasy, sinking talons and claws into sinewy flesh. She cried out heartily and stiffened under him, her eyes radiating the gulf of her ardor while he roared gruffly and mindlessly thrust into her one last time, his usually icy gaze blazing down at her before his arms gave out on him.

Sprawled on top of her, Victor buried his face against her neck, tasting her and relishing the enthralling sense of carnal fulfillment he was basking in. Rolling off of her and onto his back, he spared a long glance at her as she lay beside him. She was breathing raggedly, her lips were delicately parted. Her breathing softened and her eyes remained shut as if sensations were still undulating within her. She looked absolutely tantalizing. An urge to possess her for himself, to keep her like a prized trophy for only his hands and mouth to savor—only his to control and own—knotted in the pit of his stomach, one he suppressed dismissively once she turned her scintillating gaze towards him.

Her eyes were smiling alluringly at him with genuine pleasure, something he hadn't experienced from a woman…ever. The ephemeral sense of awe washed away when her hand cupped the side of his jaw and her nails affectionately scratched the fur of his cheek. Victor didn't recoil from her touch, but didn't encourage it either, even when her hand trailed down his neck to linger on his broad chest. Their eyes connected instead, both seeing the predatory gleam in each other's gazes.

Then as sudden as the gravitating force between them began, it was extinguished once her eyes flinted away from his and she rose fluidly from the demolished mattress to strut into the bathroom. Victor tensed with incomprehension before he rose onto his hands and watched just as she stepped into the glass shower. The sound of water jetting out of the shower spray was all he heard as he tried to deduce what tactic she was playing at now. The wake of her scent had no guile in it…only arousal, damp but still sweet like syrup to his nose. He climbed off the bed and stood at the threshold of the bathroom, staring in while his mind leapt to every conclusion her actions left him.

It wasn't a dismissal. He knew that much from the combination of idle affection and primal boasting in her eyes…but had it been a silent invitation to follow her? Or, did she expect him to leave? His words came back to him like an echo. No muss, no fuss. Then he knew it was another test. A test he had unknowingly initiated. If he had meant what he said, then he could leave satisfied and without further overtures. They were even. She had her job and a marvelous fuck, while he had his check and some of the best sex he'd ever had. The latter was quite a brag considering his lengthy lifespan. Still…he wasn't heading for his clothes, nor was he in a rush to leave the feisty frail when her scent cued more debauchery in store if he stayed.

The steam from the shower was fogging up the sumptuous bathroom, the condensation clinging to Victor's skin as he closed in on her. She'd left the glass door open and had her back to him while she basked under the hot water that ran down her head, trekking over every curve before splashing to the floor. He watched her for a long moment, his senses sharpening against the intoxication of her scent as it wafted at him in the heated room. Her scent had an almost citrus-like base to it under a heady tang that made her stand out from other women. It was pungent and spicy, feral, but so much softer…sweeter.

He watched as she ran her fingers through her thick mane of hair before caressing her palms down her supple breasts and her torso, dragging them around her hips to venture between her thighs. His eyes honed in as her hands rubbed along her inner thighs, watching as she rinsed away his semen before dipping to an angle that invited his leering gaze to parts of her he wouldn't mind committing to memory with his mouth. When she straightened and tossed her hair over her shoulder, she looked back at him as if she'd known he'd been watching her the whole time. No shit she knew. Why the hell else would she have left the door open for you! Victor berated himself mildly while returning her sultry gaze with a cool look and a raised brow. Not that he could feign disinterest when his cock was hard as a rock again and his scent was probably speaking volumes for him.

She turned back to the water, tipping her face up to the surge and sighing with pleasure. Victor had the sudden impulse to mimic the water's course with his mouth and hands, wanting to savor the feel of her eerily velvety skin again. It was as if the scales he'd expected were covered with smooth satin in order to obscure her—camouflage her to the most certain of senses. Truth was, if he hadn't seen her skin shimmer he would've never pegged her for a reptilian feral.

His hand reaffirmed the silken touch of her flesh as he trailed up her stomach, fingertips and claws skating across her flesh firmly after he pressed behind her and shut the door to trap her and the heat inside. His other hand came around to cup her crotch while he pawed at a breast, squeezing cheekily as he pressed against her. When she turned to glance at him, her lips collided against his jaw before caressing slowly along his furred cheek. She pressed against his hips when his mouth captured hers hungrily. Before their kiss intensified, Victor turned her around in his arms and pressed her up against the wall.

They both wanted each other enough to discard their feral need to dominate, wild lust taking the forefront. Losing themselves to the heat and hunger, they took each other, fucking against the smooth tiled wall of the shower stall. Pretense was ignored even further when the shower grew too confined and motivated them to move back into the bedroom.

The sleek tangle of limbs they became on the bed only lasted for a few wayward moments before Victor staked his claim for control by dragging his mate to the end of the mattress. He wrapped her legs around his hips and held her in place, entering her again with one fierce thrust, slamming home again and again as he loomed over her luscious body. She arched her back off the bed and stared up at him with pure rapture in her eyes, letting him manhandle her expertly. The approval and urging in her expression made him so wild that he couldn't commit to taking her in only one way.

When he flipped her onto her stomach, she moaned with anticipation and arched provocatively. He pulled her against him before sliding his ramrod cock to trail the slick valley between her thighs. Gasping at the electrifying contact, she gripped the back of his neck and ground back on his hips, his hairy chest causing delicious friction against her back as he scraped his ferocious claws up her torso to worry her heavy mounds in his rough palms. The sound she made shot a jolt through him, so he bucked against her firm backside and clamped his mouth over her tender shoulder muscle. Instead of recoiling from the fire his mouth tore into her flesh, she encouraged it by cupping the back of his skull and growing taut against him.

Her sultry mouth was causing havoc on his already crumbling control, so when he dragged his mouth to nip at her jaw he was floored by her primal groan for more. Their mouths clashed briefly, a flurry of dueling tongues and scraping teeth before lips worried and lingered against each other for an effervescent moment. The intoxication they both were under was unlike anything either had experienced. Needless to say they relished in each other's clutches, especially when Victor eased back into her throbbing heat.

Ironically enough, the position that garnered the most pleasure for them both involved him spooning her, since it left her open to him and still allowed him access to her mouth and racing pulse while allowing her to meet his pounding thrusts with her bucking hips—not to mention her equally voracious mouth. Her teeth clamped viciously down on his forearm, earning a growl before he reciprocated by biting down and sucking on her pulse.

A shudder rocked through her, accompanied by a sharp contraction of her body around his throbbing sex. It was all Victor could do to frantically pound into her and send her over the edge before he broke. In a flood of sensation, they came undone almost simultaneously. Clutching her against him while she grew taut in his arms, both ruthless ferals released hearty cries and rocked against each other fiercely, prolonging each other's pleasure and causing a sense of completion to blossom over them in a wave of heat and roaring pulses.

It was the most fulfilling sensation he'd ever experienced, feeling utterly complete in the moment. Nothing like it compared. All his other sexual conquests ended with his powerful release, but once the rush of life fizzled and his plaything was left a shallow shell, no sense of power and control he held over their life lingered long enough to satiate him. It was all empty release—except for this moment with a fellow predator.

When she shifted minutely, he was dully aware of how intently he still gripped her against him. Her foot caressed up his leg to brush his muscled calf before she hummed and cupped the back of his neck. Her nose trailed under his jaw before Victor unconsciously returned the gesture by nuzzling her temple and burying his nose in her hair. Their primitive caresses were hardwired, unspoken but articulating approval and the acceptance that could only be relinquished to each other once their claim was complete.

Neither of them spoke, content and savagely sated enough to simply bask in the wild tangle their bodies were interlocked in. Her body was hot as an ember against him, and he was like a stoked furnace that engulfed her. The warmth of their bodies and breaths��coupled with the exhaustion that steadily crept over them—slowly lulled them into slumber, matters of dominance and reprisals forgotten in the bestial afterglow of mating.

_____________________________________

Dawn began to crest in the desert horizon, sending blazing rays of sunlight over the Vegas strip and into the sprawling windows of the luxury suite. The warmth caressed the side of his face, making him grunt in his sleep and nuzzle the pillow before he turned away from the light. Her scent clung to the bedding and flooded him with lazy desire when he inhaled and stretched on the bed.

Stiffening, Victor jerked awake and warily shook the sleep off his senses. Growling, he swiped the back of his hand across his eyes before looking around the room. He was alone.

The room was still a disaster zone from last night, but the only thing left of her was the tattered dress shirt and her heady scent. Climbing off the bed, Victor stalked naked out into the other room, following the strongest trail of her scent to find it led to the door. Stalking back into the bedroom, he noticed the portable device and the briefcase were gone too, and his clothes were folded neatly on the dresser. The viper had the time to tidy up while you were knocked the fuck out like a goddamned cat!

He fumed, trying to quell his anger, but failing the more the situation mocked him. He didn't know what made him more irate: the fact that she snuck out without stirring him from his sleep or that he felt like the jilted lover—of course in the loosest interpretation of the term. Creed was accustomed to leaving his playthings broken where they fell, collecting himself and proudly heading on his merry way without a second thought. He'd certainly never been the one left behind like a dozing pet too fucking content on having his belly scratched to notice otherwise. An indolent rage tugged at him, but he shoved it away to instead furiously pull his clothes on.

She clearly had way more practice at slinking away with her prize before the bastard she'd just bled—literally and figuratively—knew what was what. But to get yet another one over on him? Growling lividly at himself, he tugged his black undershirt on before shrugging into his button down and stalking towards his coat. He grabbed it off of the back of the chair in the living room and sneered when he smelled her on it, intertwined along with the myriad of scents that were familiar to him. Throwing it on, he adjusted it over his shoulders before swiping his palms down his sides.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he patted the concealed pocket and didn't feel the slip of paper he'd tucked in for safe keeping. Yanking his hand into his coat and fishing nothing out of the pocket, the fury Victor felt was so intense he saw white for a few seconds. Pulling his fist out of the wall, he roared with the futile wrath he couldn't purposefully take out. Decimating everything in the suite with enough bulk and demolishing the furniture left him panting not from exertion but from the fizzling adrenaline.

Prowling out of the room, Victor left the hotel amidst a haze of surroundings, still under a fog of restrained rage that left him on automatic pilot until he was on the other side of town. The morning was just beginning when he was speeding down the isolated stretch of desert highway in his '70 Wagoneer Jeep, fuming but aptly driving. His grip on the steering wheel was the only thing betraying his fury. Something he realized only after he stopped at a seedy truck stop a few hours away from Salt Lake City and had to pry his hands from the dented steering wheel.

Breezing into the diner, Victor stalked through and was virtually ignored by the other patrons, proving just how sleazy and lawless the establishment was, and found a stool at the end of the counter tucked out of sight just across from the grimy television set mounted into the wall. The waitress loped over and glanced at him over the rims of her gaudy glasses.

"Beer, steak 'n eggs, and black coffee. Steak bloody," he tersely ordered and hunched over the counter, looking surly and more dangerous than usual. The waitress took his order and gave him a look like she'd seen it all including his big bad killer type before walking away.

He was so pissed he could drill through solid rock with his fists. When the coffee was set in front of him, he swallowed it and the bitter taste before the waitress slid the plate of food and the icy beer between his curled hands. He picked up the fork and began wolfing his food, not really hungry but needing to work something into his system besides the nasty coffee and the seething rage. The news was droning on across from him, the sound low enough for human ears but perceptible to his keen hearing.

"—authorities in Las Vegas are baffled by the brutal homicide scene found in the high rollers suite at the Monte Carlo hotel and casino this morning, Janet. The victim, Tommy DeLaughter, is the son of DIA Director Reginald DeLaughter—recently involved in the security breach that occurred at the Defense Department headquarters in Washington. Federal authorities suspected DeLaughter of perpetrating the breach, but have now reason to believe his son Tommy to have clandestinely stolen top-secret information from his father. Just this morning the FBI had placed a warrant for Tommy DeLaughter's arrest, only to have US Marshalls stumble upon the gruesome scene at the Monte Carlo. Vegas P.D. sergeant Walker had no comment when asked over the victim's cause of death…"

The rest of what the portly reporter was saying became white noise to Victor as he honed in on the screen, seeing the recent picture of the stupid bastard Montecristo had bled dry fill the screen momentarily as the reporter impassively spoke. He drank his beer in one long swallow before plopping the empty bottle down on the counter along with a few bills to cover his tab. Breezing out of the bar as quick as he'd come in, Victor strode to his jeep and got in.

The viper was one cunning conniving bitch. As soon as she'd left that conference room she had been on the job, but not too busy to toy with him and get what she wanted from him before leaving him with only his dick in his hand to show for it. The anger boiled up inside of him, but for some reason didn't bristle over. Part of him wanted to skin her alive, tear her limb from limb before crushing the life out of her. Another part of him was impressed. She wasn't someone to be trifled with, and a beastly part of him respected and hated her for it. Visceral impulses were undulating in him, leaving him conflicted and angry all over again before they were settled by the precedent of his outrage.

There was no way in hell he was going to let the viper slip from his grasps. Not unless he snuffed the life out of her for what she'd done to his pride. He wouldn't and couldn't dignify himself or the animal with the thought of letting her walk away supreme. She had to know as much.

Heading east, Victor was struck by that. She's counting on it. Why the hell else would she take his check? She didn't need his money, but she sure got his attention hadn't she? Biting back the smile that threatened to obscure his sneer, Victor ran his fingers through his inch long hair before gripping it with a growl.

"Touché bitch. You got the last laugh—for now."

_____________________________________

The silver of her '65 DB5 Aston Martin convertible glinted under the brilliant West coast sun as she raced down the interstate, the desert landscape speeding by. Her hair whipped around her and clung to the rim of her sunglasses, fluttering back while she held the check up to her nose and sniffed his faint scent as a smile played over her lips.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd played mouse, but she took gloating pleasure in the image of her cat being the very worthy Creed. She was sure he was aware of the game this time around, but wasn't sure just how he'd go about playing his turn. Flashes of the night before crossed her thoughts, vivid and fleeting but fixated on certain details. Like the hard, sinewy brawn of his body, and the heat of his mouth—vicious and soothing all at once. What lingered the longest, however, was how they fit against each other, almost like two missing puzzle pieces crafted from different materials but still meant to interlock together.

When she had woken still in his arms, something inside her had swelled, a sensation she hadn't felt in a short eternity. Thinking of it made her bones itch, as if she was truly swelling from the pulsing rush of the memory. The current he stirred in her was undeniable.

Sure taking his check was petty, but she wouldn't cash it. No, she'd taken it as a souvenir. A memento of his scent. Ferals and their goddamn scent-based memories…was it a wonder she took something? Sure, she'd guaranteed that she and Victor Creed would cross paths, sooner or later—but that's not why she took it. No…after so many years, so many memories, she could barely remember Eirik. It hurt, not remembering him but thinking of him whenever she was so alone. To her, remembering and thinking of someone were two different things. To think of someone was to see them, but not feel them. Remembering was like an ocean of sensation, with every sense tantalized and engrained to the feeling of the memory. She didn't remember Eirik…

If the universe prevented Victor Creed from crossing her path again, then she would at least have a way to remember.

Don't be cruel to those who are cruel with mortality, fate.

____________________

Read Chapter 2: Ravaging Intrigue

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.

#A Feral Interlude #Victor Creed #X-Men Origins: Wolverine #Victor Creed x Latina OFC #Victor Creed x Isabela Montecristo #Sabertooth #X-MEN #X-Men movieverse #Sabertooth x Vipress #Sabertooth fanfiction #Victor Creed fanfiction

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morievna · 2 years ago

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Mix 18 – Ugetsu’s grand return 🥳

Ohh sorry so much I was meaning to write about this chapter since awhile, but my job was demanding lately and I also got new obsession to over-think *cough* BSD Stormbringer *cough* But here I am finally getting time to gush about Ugetsu and Mafuyu xD

(btw i had fun with creating new pfp with this picrew)

This post will be more Ugetsu-centric – I will focus on Mafuyu later on together with covering mix 19 – though maybe after full scans will be available since judging from spoilers it relies a lot on visuals. But in short, it is so beautiful chapter with Mafuyu’s arc blooming 💖

As for now - what can i say - mix 18 is simply perfection. Feel prepared to me simply counting up things I loved xD

Honestly I love everything about it – finally getting Ugetsu’s return in such amazing way, the way Mafuyu was portrayed in such human and vulnerable way and character development of them both. Besides, interaction between them were pure gold xD I liked how funny was clash between their personalities, which balanced more serious and angsty side of this chapter.

I really like how Given is consistent with themes and parallels between all characters, especially Akigetsu and Mafuyama in this one. It feels very thoughtful how Natsuki-sensei planned all of it.

Okay, so let’s start digging~~

If you read my analysis of Ugetsu’s booklet from movie - you know that I was concerned with how he was shown so alone and isolated from outside world; with no human interaction except that text from Akihiko.

Honestly I literally gasped when he admitted that by himself in this chapter xD

Really wow – such development considering that he started as character ‘i-have-no-friends’ and neglecting himself in lot of ways. He went long way T_T

I really liked his vibe in this chapter – it really feels that he thought over his life and changed. Even without clear destination – it feels symbolic that he no longer wants to live in temporary hotels and wants to sell his old house ( which was symbol of his cocoon) – like butterfly he is now free to live fully and make connection with outside world.

So proud of Ugetsu~~

I am really curious if we will got more spinoff or something about Ugetsu – it really feels like some part of his life ended, but new possibilities are ahead – I really love how carefree he ponders on his future. Also since Natsuki-sensei mentioned on her twt that she made changes to booklet story to include improved version to Given vol.8 – I still think she likes Ugetsu quite a lot xD

Okay, let’s move on Mafuyu-Ugetsu bond ~~

I love their dynamics so much – in this chapter it was really perfect way how to show kinda mentor-student relationship should work (and without mentor dying per trope *sighs in bsd*).

I loved how Mafuyu opened to Ugetsu about he is going through – because of he knew what’s Ugetsu been through and how they are alike, these factors helped him to admit his deepest worries and insecurities. Though this arc Mafuyu talked to others, but it was the heartfelt connection between MafuUge that let him to be more at ease speaking himself. Like Ugetsu being comfort friend for him like no other.

I love Mafuyu reaction to Ugetsu’s spontaneous decision to go together to SYH live :D

They are just perfect xDD

On more serious side, I really liked hands symbolism in this – at first Mafuyu is uncomfortable with this decision like feeling desperate that Ugetsu didn’t understand him and grasping him to wait, not wanting to go and confront Uenoyama.

But then after they talk more – Ugetsu’s points get through to Mafuyu. I also loved how Ugetsu knew what to say and how help Mafuyu. Like literally he said what Mafuyu needed to hear – both calling out on lack of communication with Uenoyama, making good points on indecisiveness having painful consequences, and praising him for trying his best.

It is great too that Ugetsu didn’t handed full solution for Mafuyu – ‘only’ provided support and good insights and ultimately gave Mafuyu push in right direction, which is taking him by hand to SYH debut (meanwhile Mafuyu ceasing to resist).

What’s more, it is really good that they got separated in the crowd – Mafuyu has to alone make decision for his own future and this is giving him that free space. After all, from story perspective mentor is supposed only to show protagonist way of living and giving advice like fundament - and protag must have built on that by himself and go beyond.

Besides, I really love that callback to chapter 27 – on one side we have that emotional scene with Ugetsu/Mafuyu crying due to being terrified of what comes with future, and to balance that we have frame with comforting ‘all will be okay’ providing support to one another.

Excuse me now to cry in the corner a bit T_T

Ngl Ugetsu looking melancholic when Mafuyu brought up his story with Akihiko also made my Akigetsu heart weep a bit too T_T

Finally - to end on positive note,

mentor-student dynamics is often show that student could achieve at what mentor didn’t succeed - that’s why imo (contrary to Akigetsu as these ships were paralleled in this chapter) Mafuyama will get their happy ending with most likely pursuing music as career. And since story established that Mafuyu and Ugetsu and inspiring and helping each other - I hope one day we will get Ugetsu happy ending as well – by that I mean him being renowned violinist while having friends and/or loving husbando xD

That’s all for now – thanks for reading and have great day <3

#given #given manga #mix_18 #kizu natsuki #ugetsu murata #mafuyu satou #ugemafu #murata ugetsu #happy noises #that chapter was so good on so many levels #given meta

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beom1e · 4 years ago

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PINK GUITAR

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

PAIRING park jongseong x fem! reader

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

WARNINGS very light sex references

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

Part One

Luke Patterson x Fem!reader

Summary: All you wanted was to play the biggest gig of your life with your best friends, but you just might get more than you bargained for.

Warnings: death and some swearing (I don’t think there is anything else but if there is, let me know!)

…

May 1994

“Shit.”

You whispered to yourself as you stared at the old clock on the diner’s wall.

It had only been half an hour since your shift started, but you were already anxious for it to be over.

Cece’s diner was normally one of your favorite places in the world. It was a small, poorly lit building in a boring part of L.A. It didn’t see much business since it wasn’t easy to find. But the air always smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon.

You loved working there, but it was not where you wanted to be right now.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” A voice asked from behind the counter. You turned to see your boss Cece, a petite middle-aged woman who was eyeing the dirty table in front of you that you were supposed to be cleaning.

“Yeah, sorry. My mind is somewhere else.” You admitted, throwing the empty plates in the tray and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cece shook her head and let out a laugh as she followed. “On a certain guitarist, perhaps?”

Your cheeks flushed and Cece laughed again, grabbing the rag off her shoulder and smacking it against your arm lightly.

She was one of the few people who knew about your feelings for Luke Patterson. One of your best friends, childhood crush, and most recently, your bandmate.

“And for your information, I’m thinking about all of the band because we’re practicing tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Cece hummed, a sly smile on her face.

She always pretended to be annoyed with your ramblings since you joined sunset curve, saying that a sixteen-year-old girl had no business being in a rock band. But you had caught her bragging about you to the few regulars you had multiple times.

She had a son living a few states away, but they weren’t close. So she treated you like her daughter. Which meant she wasn't the biggest fan of you constantly hanging around a bunch of teenage boys. But eventually, she warmed up to them. Especially Alex; he was her favorite.

Luke, on the other hand, annoyed her to no end.

You ran the dishes under hot water and pressed a kiss to Cece’s cheek as you walked past her and back into the main room.

“Besides, Luke doesn’t like me like that.”

Cece rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the shrill ring of the phone cut her off. You let out a sigh, grateful for the distraction. She meant well, but when it came to your situation with Luke, you were more than happy to live in denial and ignoring it altogether.

He was your best friend. That’s all that mattered right now.

You shook the thoughts from your head and grabbed the phone’s receiver. “Cece’s Diner. How can I help you?”

“How much do you love me?”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart raced at the sound of Luke’s voice rang through your ears. His choice of words definitely not helping to calm you down. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself.

“Luke?” You asked which prompted Cece to raise an eyebrow from the other side of the room.

“Hey. I’m sorry for calling you at work but I can’t finish this song and it’s driving me nuts. I need you and your genius brain to come help me.”

Despite your protests, the tap dance in your chest continued. It was ridiculous that after knowing Luke all your life, you were still shocked when he complimented you like that.

“I don’t get off until six, but I’ll come after.” You said, trying not to smile when you heard him cheer in victory. “And before Reggie asks, yes, I’ll bring coffee.”

Luke laughed before singing into the phone. “Get me a large with extra whipped cream and cinnamon.”

“I hate you.” You sang back, making a mental note to wipe off the smirk you could practically hear in his voice before the line went dead. You sighed as you put the phone back on the hook, holding a finger out to Cece.

“Not a word.”

A few hours later, you walked into Bobby’s garage, carrying a cardboard tray in each arm.

You sighed as you looked around the room. Every surface was covered in discarded paper balls and empty fast-food wrappers. You had expected to hear some form of music or at least some talking but the room was dead silent.

In the center of the mess, Alex and Reggie sat on the floor. Alex was trying to balance his drumsticks on his nose, and Reggie was mindlessly strumming his bass. Luke was sitting back on the couch, his eyebrows tightly knitted together as he frantically scribbled into his notebook.

“Your savior is here, and I come bearing coffee.”

All three heads whipped in your direction and within seconds, Reggie was excitedly bouncing his way towards you. He reached out to swipe a cup from the tray in your left hand. You swatted his arm away.

"Not that one. That’s Al’s.”

You set the rest of the drinks on the table in front of you and walked up to Alex. You handed him the cup and he gave you an appreciative smile. You always made sure to get him hot chocolate or tea, since you learned the hard way that caffeine can sometimes make his anxiety worse. He told you he didn’t want to admit that to the guys. So you were happy covering for him.

“Why does he get his own special one?” Reggie pouted as he grabbed another cup and strolled over to Luke, plopping down next to him on the couch. “And why is she the only one who can call you ‘Al’?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” You said, poking Reggie’s cheek as you passed him and took the other seat on the couch next to Luke. Alex just nodded, trying to hold back a smile.

“I thought you didn’t get off for another hour.” Luke said, looking up from his songbook for the first time since you got there.

“Cece knew it was important band stuff so she let me off early.” You shrugged.

“Oh no, she’s not mad at me, is she?” Luke shivered, thinking of all the times Cece had chewed him out for being a ‘bad influence’ on you or made him wipe down some tables for accidentally making you late for a shift. “You know I can’t stand when that woman is mad at me.”

“I also know that all you have to do is give her your little puppy-dog look and she’ll instantly forgive you.”

“Yeah, you guys are alike that way.” Luke teased, sticking his bottom lip out and batting his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what have you got so far?” You said as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He grinned and started translating his messy handwriting for all of you.

The four of you sat there for an hour putting all the words in the right places and by the time Bobby got there, you all felt confident that it was finally finished. You took your place behind your microphone and nodded.

“Okay, Al. Count us down.”

Alex twirled his drumsticks. “1…2…3…4!”

June, 1995

“Don’t look down.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you sang the song you had written a year ago. Your feet bouncing on the stage, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

To your left, Luke raised his arms, trying to hype up the non-existent crowd. Alex clashed his drumsticks together to the beat as all your voices came together.

“Cause we’re still rising up right now.”

You clapped along to the song, the energy coursing through your veins. Luke was in the middle of throwing his guitar behind his back. You rolled your eyes at him and he flashed you a small bashful smile before turning his head.

Your heart fluttered but you forced yourself to turn the other way, singing with Reggie just as the song transferred out of the bridge. The fog machines cued the ending chorus and you gripped your microphone with both hands.

“And even if we hit the ground, we’ll still fly.

Keep dreaming like we’ll live forever.

But living like it’s now or never.“

The other boy's voices dropped out until it was just you and Luke singing the chorus. You looked over at him, but his eyes were glued to the front of the room. Normally, you would share a mic for this part or at least stand close together, but he seemed determined to avoid you.

Just like he had been for the last six months.

You ignored the gaping pit in your stomach and poured all your focus into the song.

“Like it’s now or never!

It’s now or never!“

The final riff sounded and you let out an exhausted but proud sigh. There were a few scattered claps from the staff in the venue. But a curly-haired girl behind the counter was cheering especially loud. Reggie winked at her and leaned into his mic.

“Thank you! We’re Sunset Curve. Tell your friends.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled his arm, dragging him to the center of the stage. Alex came from his drum set and you gave him a high five.

“Al, you were amazing!”

“Yeah, dude, you were smoking.” Reggie agreed.

Alex blushed. “Nah, man. I was just warming up. You guys were the ones on fire.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “Can you just own your awesomeness for once?”

Bobby and Luke nodded in agreement and you raised your eyebrows at Alex, nudging him until he finally smiled. “Okay, I was killing it!”

“I’m thinking we should fuel up before the show. Street dogs?” Luke asked. Alex and Reggie hummed in agreement but you wrinkled your nose.

“I think I’m gonna pass.” You said, jumping off the stage. It wasn’t that you had anything against street dogs, but as far as pre-gig activities go, it didn’t make your top ten list.

Bobby landed next to you and started jogging towards the counter. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and approached the girl wiping tables.

“Oh no.” You said. “Bobby, leave that poor girl alone.”

Bobby turned around just enough to give you a glare as you both reached the counter. The rest of the boys weren’t far behind. You felt Luke slip behind you and throw an arm on Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby told the girl some line about being a vegetarian. But she shook it off, looking over all of you.

“You guys are really good.”

You smiled proudly. “Thank you.”

She returned your smile. “I’ve seen a lot of bands. Even been in a couple myself. I was really feeling it.”

Luke was practically beaming. The whole band contributed with the songs, of course, but you and Luke were the main writers, so it was always nice to hear people compliment your words. “That’s what we do this for. I’m Luke, by the way.”

“Hey, I’m Reggie.”

“Alex.”

“Bobby.”

“And I’m (Y/n).”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Rose.” She said, turning to you. “You have a great voice, by the way. It’s always cool to see a girl lead vocalist.”

Bobby snorted. You elbowed him and Luke gave him a wet-willy. “Oh, thank you. But I’m just co-lead.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but Reggie reached in his back pocket and pulled out a C.D and a t-shirt, handing them to her. “Here’s our demo, and a T-shirt, size beautiful.”

As if on cue, you and Alex rolled your eyes. You sent Rose an apologetic look as she held the shirt up to her body.

“Thanks, I’ll try not to wipe down the tables with this one.”

Alex nodded. “Good call! When they get wet, they kind of fall apart in your hands.”

Bobby glared at all of you. “Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?”

Luke pushed Bobby back and leaned on the counter with both arms. “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.”

The boys started going towards the exit but stopped when Alex noticed you hesitating. “You coming?”

You really didn’t want hotdogs, but you also didn’t want to stay and listen to Bobby attempt to flirt with Rose. So you nodded and followed Alex to the door.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Rose called out and you turned around. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave her a warm smile before walking out into the alley. The night air hit your skin and you shivered slightly. It wasn’t cold, but it was definitely a change from the sweaty stage. You wrapped your jacket around your shoulders.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Luke whooped as he jumped through the doors and into the alleyway.

Alex gestured around, wrinkling his nose. “The smell of Sunset Boulevard?”

Luke shoved his shoulder. “No.”

You jumped out of the way as Luke splashed in a puddle. “It’s what that girl said in there. About our music.”

His eyes flickered to you when he said ‘our’ but quickly looked away. It was practically the first time he had acknowledged your presence all night.

“It connects us with people, you know? They can feel us when we play.” He said excitedly, slowing his walking until the rest of you caught up with him.

He reached each arm up and pulled Reggie to his side with one arm and despite being right next to you, he pulled Alex to his other side. You turned your head forward to hide the confused look on your face but you knew Alex saw it.

Other than Cece, he was the only person who knew about your feelings for Luke. You could tell from the look on his face that he was just as confused with Luke’s recent behavior as you were, but he didn’t say anything.

“I want that connection with everybody.”

“Then we’re gonna need more T-shirts.” You heard Reggie say as you reached the end of the alley. You pulled up the hood of your jacket and turned your head away from the line in front of the venue.

You didn't mean to walk so fast, but you were the first one at the alleyway a few blocks away from the Orpheum. You made your hotdog and made small talk with the vendor for a few minutes before the guys caught up.

“You trying to ditch us, (Y/n)?” Reggie asked, putting ingredients on his hotdog.

“Not my fault you guys are slow.” You stuck your tongue at him and he squinted at you. Alex groaned. You looked over at him to see him trying to put a pickle on his tray.

“Man, I can’t wait until the day we can eat someplace where the condiments aren’t served out of the back of an Oldsmobile.”

As he apologized to the vendor for getting pickle juice on his battery cables, you, Luke, and Reggie made your way to one of the old couches. They both sat down, leaving one open space next to Luke.

You made a point of sitting on the arm of the couch, letting your feet dangle on the seat. If Luke was going to avoid you, then you were going to avoid him right back. You also avoided the questioning look Reggie gave you before Alex sat down.

Luke didn’t seem to notice. He was bouncing his leg and couldn’t seem to stop smiling, it was obvious that he was still buzzing with energy from the soundcheck.

“This is awesome, you guys.” He said as he made himself comfortable between Reggie and Alex. “We’re playing the Orpheum! Do you know how many bands that played here ended up being huge?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled while the boys chuckled. You were all used to seeing the intense side of Luke, but he had been an even bigger ball of excited energy ever since you booked the Orpheum gig. It could be a little much for the guys sometimes, but the way his eyes lit up when he talked about music never failed to make you smile.

“I’m serious.” Luke insisted as he leaned forward and raised his hotdog in a toast. “Eat up, guys. Because after tonight, everything changes.”

You all toasted and then started to eat. Usually, street dogs weren’t half bad. But this time there was a burnt, nasty flavor that made it hard to swallow. Alex saw your face and nodded in agreement.

Even Luke, who had a super-human stomach, made a face. But his hunger must’ve won out cause he took another big bite.

“That’s a new flavor.” Alex said with his mouth full.

“Relax, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” Reggie told him as he took another bite. You still didn’t feel one hundred percent confident about it but you shrugged and kept eating.

It all happened so fast.

At first, it felt like you were dreaming. Like maybe you had just fallen asleep and would eventually wake up and realize that everything was just a nightmare.

But then the outline of Los Angeles floated away in a haze of grey and you were left in the dark. There was nothing but silence until you heard a voice somewhere in front of you.

It was the sound of Alex’s frantic ranting.

You could feel Reggie and Luke next to you, but they didn’t say anything. You didn’t either.

But you didn’t really need to. It was glaringly obvious what happened, you could feel it in your bones.

You were dead.

Alex’s ranting slowly turned into crying, which made you cry. Luke heard your quiet sniffles and for the first time in months, he touched you.

He reached out and intertwined your fingers loosely in his, gently swiping his thumb across your knuckles. You closed your eyes, trying to soak up the feeling. This was the closest to him you had been in since that night in the studio.

It seemed like so long ago, but at the same time, it was all too familiar. You knew that if you stayed in this moment with him any longer, you would fall apart completely.

So you turned away from him and buried your head in Alex’s shoulder. It seemed like hours passed before the silence was broken and the opening of Now or Never filled the air.

“Is that…?” You started, but before you could finish, the floor disappeared from under you.

You hit the ground with a painful groan and blinked at the sudden flood of bright light. You felt movement next to you and saw Reggie struggling to get up.

You hauled yourself up and turned around to realize you were back in Bobby’s garage. It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it. There was a new grand piano and flowers on every table. The room was free of any trash or discarded flannels.

But the biggest change by far, was the girl standing in front of you.

She was about your age with brown hair tied in a ponytail, in a bright yellow shirt, and furry slippers. She was staring at the four of you with wide eyes and a terrified look on her face.

“How did we get back here?” Luke said as he scanned the studio.

The girl screamed, which made the boys scream and cling to each other. Reggie threw himself against Luke and pulled you behind him.

They all screamed for a few more seconds before the girl ran out of the garage doors. You cautiously walked out from behind Reggie and towards the middle of the room, spinning in a full circle.

The boys started talking but you were still mesmerized by all the changes made to the studio.

You looked up towards the ceiling and saw that there were chairs hanging by the loft and countless tiny plants by the windows but you could still see the nail polish-stain you had made on the carpet and the dents in the beams from all the times Luke had messed up his guitar throw.

Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.

Well, two things were for sure.

You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #alex mercer #reggie peters #julie molina #jatp fanfic

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silkling · 4 years ago

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And Birdie Makes Three

Earth was a magnet for anything Cybertronian. Wheeljack would swear by that for the rest of his life. He’d only intended to visit Earth for a few days. Help Team Prime kick some ‘Con tailpipe, catch up with Bulkhead, have fun messing with the Doc-bot. Yet, here he was, roped into some sort of recon/retrieval mission. This wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun time. But, he had offered to help when he’d come to this little mudball, so he supposed he couldn’t complain too much.

Apparently, Ratchet had caught a Cybertronian signal headed for some remote Earth desert. From what he’d been able to tell, the good doctor had said that the signal was strange. It wasn’t the type of signal that would come off of a proper ship, so it was something else, something smaller. Personally, Wheeljack didn’t care what it was. All he cared about was the second part of the report: that the signal indicated another bot was on board whatever vessel was set to crash planet-side.

So, Prime had sent Bulkhead and the little scout to check it out, and asked Wheeljack if he’d be up for going along. How could he have said no? Besides, if it turned out to be a fight then of course he’d want to be there! Unfortunately for him, a fight was not to be had. The ground bridge had malfunctioned and dropped them a few miles off, and they’d had to drive the rest of the way to the predicted crash site. When they’d finally arrived, the vessel, which Wheeljack could now see was an escape pod, had already crashed. Apparently, whoever had been inside had also already been greeted by ‘Cons, because the terrain around the pod spoke of a rather violent battle.

The sand was soaked with energon, and the ground was strewn with vehicon and eradicon bodies. A large, thin piece of metal from the pod had been ripped off and used as a makeshift weapon; Wheeljack could see how, whoever had been in that pod, they had used to to gouge and hack at several of the dead drones. A few paces away, the offending piece of metal was stuck through an eradicon’s face. Beyond that, many of the bodies looked like they’d been killed by some sort of blaster or gun. Many more looked like something had ripped at their throats and left them to bleed out. A few were missing their helms altogether. Nearby, what had once been a large rock formation was now rubble, and the largest surviving boulder had deep gouge marks in the stone. On a few of the corpses, the edges of the escape pod, and the boulder, Wheeljack could see faint blue paint transfers.

“Primus,” Bulkhead said. “Whoever was in that pod, they sure did a lot of damage. Think the ‘Cons got them?”

Wheeljack crossed his arms, optics narrowed. Something about this was….eerily familiar. But from where? “Maybe.” he said after a moment. “Doubt it though.”

“Yeah? How do you figure that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“Uh, guys?” Bumblebee beeped. “Hate to break this up, but you know what this means, right?”

Bulkhead blinked. “What do you mean, Bee?”

“If the ‘Cons came to get this bot, and the bot reacted like this to them,” he answered, gesturing at the scene around them. “Then whoever was in that pod is probably one of ours.”

Wheeljack perked up. “You known, kid, I think you’re right.” he grinned. Oh, now this was going to be fun.

He wondered who it was. The Terror Twins? Maybe, but the pod looked like it’d be cramped for two. Jazz? This was definitely within his ability to pull off, but something this violent wasn’t really his style. Ironhide? He definitely had the skill set to pull off carnage like this, and he would actually commit such a level of violence if he was pushed far enough. Pits, it could be a lot of mechs. It could even be one of the femmes! There was no real way to tell. Wheeljack did want to meet them and shake their hand, though. This level of chaos and destruction was honestly impressive.

“Alright.” Bulkhead spoke up. “So it’s one of ours. But the question now is, where are they?”

Oh, he just had to ruin to mood with his pertinent questions, didn’t he?

“There’s no way to tell.” Bumblebee beeped. “We just have to wait and see if more clues pop up, I guess. I hope we find them soon, though.”

That, Wheeljack could agree with.

——————————

Bulkhead was distracted. Miko knew the other humans couldn’t pick up on it, but Bulk was her best friend and she knew him. So when she said he was distracted, she meant it. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t like he wasn’t doing his job, or was getting in trouble in the field because of his distraction, but it was definitely affecting his life at base. He was so…quiet. Ever since that mission in the desert, where they’d come back without the mystery bot, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything he did with her. Miko was starting to get very annoyed with it, actually.

Which meant it was time to get to the root of the problem. And, luckily for her, no one was in the secondary chamber of the base today, which she and Bulkhead had taken over to use to practice their music when they got kicked out of the main room. Which meant now was the perfect time to brooch the subject with her giant metal pal.

“Hey, Bulk!”

He startled at her call, blue eyes darting down to fix on her. “Miko? Do you need something?”

“Yeah!” she put her hands on her hips. “You’ve been distracted ever since the desert. What’s the deal, big guy?”

He blinked slowly, then sighed. “That obvious?”

“Just to me!” she said cheerily, clambering up to perch on his knee. “So, what’s the deal? Spill!”

“It’s something Wheeljack said. At crash site, there was, uh, a lot of carnage.” he said. She could tell he was picking his words carefully to avoid going into too much detail. That was no fun! “And, well, Jackie mentioned some of the damage looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out from where. And he’s right. It was familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well,” Miko kicked her legs. “You guys said it was probably a ‘Bot, right?” At his nod, she continued. “Then maybe it’s familiar cause it’s the damage caused by a specific ‘Bot?”

Bulkhead made a noise of frustration. “We kind of figured that. But that’s the problem. We just don’t know who.”

“So, you know they’re a ‘Bot, and the damage they did was really familiar to you and Wheeljack, but you can’t figure out which ‘Bot and from where the damage is familiar?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

“Hmmm…” Miko tapped her chin. “Yeah, okay. Now I see why you’re distracted.”

He chuckled, lightly tapping her head with a finger. “Thanks anyway, Miko.”

“Yeah yeah, no problem.” she said, distracted herself now. Now she was lost in thought, and over the same conundrum as Bulkhead!

Just who was this mystery Autobot?

——————————

The day had started out peaceful. Frankly, Wheeljack had been bored. Which was why he was quite thrilled with where it had gone, in the end. Ratchet had found an energon mine, and Optimus had asked him, Bulkhead, and Arcee to go check it out and collect what they could. They’d come, and they’d managed to get quite a bit of energon piled up by the time the action had started.

There has been the sound of a ground bridge, and then Breakdown had stepped out from it, followed by a gaggle of vehicons and eradicons. And then, of course, the clash began. Breakdown had gone straight for Bulkhead, and that left Wheeljack and Arcee to take on the drones. For a while, he’d let his processor blank, his frame moving on reflexes alone as he struck down an ‘Con who came into range of his blades. He didn’t notice anything around him as he fought, his swords cutting through armor and limbs and throats alike.

When he next looked up, Bulkhead had backed Breakdown into a corner. So much so that the former Wrecker had been forced to call for a ground bridge and retreat. But, of course, these were Decepticons they were dealing with, so nothing could ever be easy. Less than a minute after Breakdown had been forced to flee, another ground bridge opened and spilled out a horde of vehicons and eradicons.

“Scrap.” Wheeljack hissed.

This wasn’t good. True, the drones are easy to take down, but in large enough numbers they started to wear a mech down. They’d probably get out of this fine, but it’d be cutting it close. Arcee gave a fierce cry as she dove back into the fray, and Wheeljack exchanged a nod with Bulkhead before both Wreckers joined her. Working together, they managed to thin the horde down until there were few left.

And that, of course, was when things went wrong. Arcee had gotten too close to the edge of a nearby cliff edge, and one lucky shot her her stumbling back and over. Bulkhead reacted quickly, lunging forward and shooting out his wrecking ball for his teammate to catch. Wheeljack, meanwhile, roared and lunged forward to take out the rest of the vehicons so they couldn’t offline his friend while the big green lug was distracted.

Too late, he realized he’d forgotten about the eradicons in flight above him. In fact, he didn’t even realize they’d been there until he heard the sound of blades rapidly slicing through the air and the snarl of a powerful engine. Then there was the sound of blaster fire, and eradicons dropped to the ground around him.

Before he could look up or turn around, Wheeljack heard the sound of a transformation sequence above him, and then a heavy metal form dropped to the earth at his back. He whirled around, bringing his blades to bare, ready to slice the helm off whatever ‘Con had tried get the drop on him.

He froze, his swords mere micrometers from slicing into the throat of the offending bot, and then he slid his battle mask aside and grinned fiercely.

“Well well well, look what the turbo-fox dragged in!”

——————————

Will was not having a good day. The higher ups were getting uppity about the ‘Bots. About Wheeljack in particular, actually. They kept throwing a fit that the Wrecker wasn’t a permanent addition to Team Prime, and that he came and left as he pleased. Apparently, their displeasure was rooted in the fact that having another Autobot on the team more permanently might make them end their war a little earlier. The pencil pushers up in Washington just didn’t understand that matters were a little more complicated than that. Of course, they also refused to listen when he tried to explain that he, nor they, had any say over how the alien military handled its individual soldiers. And when Wheeljack kept leaving, they kept getting angry. Then they took that irritation out on him. Hence, he wasn’t having a good day.

He had come down to the Autobot’s base to talk to Prime about some of their more recent missions. Including the one in the desert. None of the bots had actually cleaned up the mess left behind there, and some humans had recently stumbled across it. It had been….fun, to explain that away. So, he was here to remind Prime to be a bit more careful about leaving messes on battlefields where humans might stumble across it. Will had also been ordered to try and convince Wheeljack to stay, though he wasn’t holding his breath on that one.

As he leaned against the railing, talking with Prime, he heard noise from Ratchet’s direction. The medic was talking to someone, probably one of the bots who were out, and then he was opening the ground bridge. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack came through, carrying cubes of energon, and they set it all in the corner. When Ratchet went to turn off the ground bridge, Bulkhead stopped him.

“Just a second, Ratchet. We have a guest coming in.” he said, seeming cheerful.

“A guest?” Prime spoke up, frowning.

“Yep!” Wheeljack grinned. “He’s one of ours! It’s the ‘Bot from the escape pods!” he gestured at the ground bridge, and all eyes turned to it.

Will heard the metallic sound of Cybertronian footsteps, and then a form appeared, silhouetted against the light of the ground bridge. The bot walked forward, and as the ground bridge powered off Will got his first good look at Earth’s newest Autobot.

“Optimus, everyone, this is Whirl.” Bulkhead said, grinning. “He’s a Wrecker, like me and Jackie.”

Whirl certainly looked like he’d fit in as an elite soldier. The blue Autobot was tall, with digitigrade legs, and pincer-like claws in place of hands. His arms were a little odd, and Will was quick to realize he seemed to have some sort of rotors in each arm. His most startling feature, however, was his head. He had a cylindrical head, and no face to speak of. Instead, he had a singular, large golden eye set into the center of his head. He also had thin, sharp protrusions coming off his back, which Will swore looked like helicopter blades. Hell, even the bot’s feet were strange, looking like someone had bound the front claws of a bird’s talons and left the back claw alone.

For a second, the Autobot base was silent. Then Nakadai broke it.

“Another Wrecker?” she gasped, racing down the stairs of the entertainment nook and running up to the new bot. “That’s so cool! You look awesome! It’s really great to meet another bot, especially another Wrecker like Bulk and Wheeljack! Your claws look sharp, I bet you can do a lot of damage with them! Tell me, how many ‘Cons have you taken on with them?” she asked, excited.

Whirl startled, blinking down at her. “Oh, hey.” he spoke. “You’re one of those little organics. I didn’t know you guys kept some of the locals around.” he said, directing the last statement at Bulkhead.

“We don’t.” the green bot replied. “These guys are…a special case.”

Whirl shrugged, then turned back to the excited human at his feet. “Fine by me.” he chirped, crouching down. “Hiya!” he greeted Nakadai. “You’re very energetic! I like that!”

Nakadai cackled, clearly thrilled that the large bot was matching her energy. “I’m Miko!” she thrust her hand out.

Whirl blinked again, and then his eye was curving into a thin arch that Will swore was his approximation of a smile. “Oooh, I’ve seen this with you lot!” God, the new guy sounded giddy. “It’s how you say hello!”

Whirl held out his own hand, letting Nakadai grasp the tip of a single claw in hand before waving his hand up and down slightly. She laughed, her whole body pulled along with the movement, and let go once he stopped. Once she was stable on her feet, he reached out and very carefully tapped the tip of one claw against the top of her head.

“I like you!” he announced. “Any tiny organic brave enough to run up to the Whirlybird gets an okay in my book!”

Wheeljack laughed, walking over to his former teammate as the blue bot stood back up. He slapped Whirl’s back with a grin. “Well that’s good, because the humans are kinda a fixture here, so if you wanna stay you gotta get used to them!”

Whirl responded to the slap by punching his claws against Wheeljack’s shoulder. “Rough as always, Wheelie?” he said, the edge of a growl under his voice.

“No!” Bulkhead cut in before Wheeljack could respond. “No brawls in here.” he scolded.

Both the other bots pouted. Or, well, Will thought Whirl was pouting. It was hard to tell. “You’re no fun.” they said together.

Off to the side, Prime made a sound that Will knew to be the Cybertronian equivalent of clearing his throat. “Whirl.”

Immediately, that odd head snapped in his direction. Prime continued. “I am pleased that you have safely found your way to us. I must ask, however. How did you come to find yourself on Earth?”

“Is that what this fun little mudball is called?” Whirl made an odd clicking noise. “Neat.”

“Whirl.” Prime prompted again.

“Right.” he said. “See, I was actually a few star systems over. Had my own ship, ‘cept I crashed it. Managed to make it on my own, but then the ‘Cons found me. Was running low on fuel and not in the best shape, so they managed to nab me. Took me to this big ship, I think they were planning on sending me to old Megatron cause of our history.” Here, he waved his hand and clicked his claws in a gesture Will could only call dismissive. “Managed to get out, and I hijacked an escape pod. Next thing I know, I’m crashing on this planet and waking up to a ‘Con welcome party! I dealt with them, of course, and then went to figure out where I was! I scanned a new alt-mode, then lay low and tried to figure out the whole deal with Cybertronians here. Then I stumbled on Bulky and Wheelie, and here I am!” he finished, throwing his arms up partway as if in celebration.

Prime blinked, clearly trying to sort through the information. “…you have history with Megatron?”

“Unfortunately! Megzy hates me! I’m positive he wants to see me die very painfully!”

Will really didn’t understand how he could say that so cheerfully.

“I…see.” Prime clearly did not. Nonetheless, he continued. “You have had a long journey to come here, Whirl. I regret to inform you that Megatron is also on this planet, but if you would care to stay and join the fight then my team will welcome you.”

Whirl blinked, lifting a claw to tap at his chin. Did he have a chin? Hell if Will knew.

“Megzy’s here, eh? Well, it’s not like I was trying to avoid him anyway.” Whirl shrugged, then his eye curved in that grinning arch again. “What the Pit, I’m in! I’d be happy to join your little crew, Prime!” he chirped, his arm coming up to snap a salute.

Except as he did, it caused the armor plates under his arm to shift and reveal a wound leaking energon near his armpit. The blue of the energon was similar enough to his paint that it hadn’t been noticed in the excitement, but now as a drop of it fell to the ground, the wound was definitely noticed.

Ratchet in particular was honed in on it. “You’re injured?” he demanded, taking a step towards the new arrival. “Why didn’t you say anything? Let me take a look at that, I can repair it.” he grunted.

Whirl stepped away from the medic, his eye narrowing. “You’re a medic, yeah? I’ve heard a lot about the famous Ratchet.”

“Yes, I’m a medic.” Ratchet snapped. “Now stay still and let me look at you!” He made to get closer.

“No need, Doc! Just point me in the direction of the medical stuff and I can take care of it! I’ve treated myself plenty of times before!” Whirl said cheerily.

“Oh no you will not!” Ratchet growled, reaching for the other bot.

Whirl made an odd noise then, one that made every bot in the base go still and stare at him. His engine seemed to snarl, and his armor shifted and flared, making him look significantly larger. The rotors in his arms spun to life, a high pitched humming filling the silence. His eye focused on Ratchet, the protrusions at his back twitching.

Slowly, Ratchet backed off, raising his hands and taking a few steps away. He pointed down the hall to where the makeshift medbay had been set up. “Down that way.” he said calmly.

After a beat of silence, Whirl relaxed, the harsh glow of his eye fading as he nodded and trotted off. Once he was gone, Will spoke up.

“What in the name of Sam Hill was that?”

“A threat display.” Arcee supplied helpfully.

“Threat display?! Are you saying he threatened Ratchet? Prime, did you just invite a bot onto your team who’s a danger to the people here?” Will demanded.

“No!” Bulkhead yelped. “It’s not like that! Ratchet pushed too far.”

“How?!”

“I did.” Ratchet agreed. “He was clearly uncomfortable around me. I should have backed off when he first gave signs of discomfort.”

“He still threatened you!” Will yelled.

“I would like to know why as well, Bulkhead.” Prime said seriously.

“Whirl’s not a danger to anyone here.” Wheeljack said, sounding dead serious.

“Then what was that?” Wil demanded.

“Whirl…doesn’t really like medics.” Bulkhead said, sounding hesitant. “I think he might even have a fear of ‘em.”

“What? Why?”

Wheeljack snorted. “You all saw him. Why do you think?”

Will didn’t know what that meant. But there was silence for a moment, and it seemed like the other bots did know what that meant.

“Oh.” Ratchet was quiet. “That’s….yes. I should have predicted that.” he sounded almost faint.

“I see.” Prime murmured, tone somber.

“Oh, Pits. I didn’t even think of that.” Arcee seemed deeply uncomfortable.

In the corner, Bumblebee beeped something and shifted, refusing to look at anyone.

Will exchanged a look with the kids, who were clearly as confused as he was. Then he turned back to the bots. “Prime! What’s the deal?”

“It is not my place to say, Agent Fowler.” he said grimly. “I do apologize for causing confusion, but that information is Whirl’s alone to share.”

“But he’s not a threat?” Will said carefully. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he was smart. He could read between the lines. Whatever Whirl’s deal with medics was, it was related to some sort of trauma. He wouldn’t pry, he knew better.

“No, he is not.”

“Then I guess I should go inform the powers that be that there’s a new bot in town.” Will sighed, stepping back and heading to the elevator.

Oh, this was going to be fun to explain to higher ups, he could tell already.

—————————-

Whirl found the makeshift medbay easily. After that, it didn’t take him long to weld the gash under his arm. He used a rag to mop up the mess of energon on his armor, then tossed it aside and looked around. He couldn’t help but feel out of place. He’d seen the rest of Prime’s team. They were all Normal, were all Good and Unbroken. Whirl…wasn’t. He was Wrong, was Shattered and Twisted and Bad. But he had to keep going, didn’t he? It wasn’t like there was much else he could do. Not with the War raging on.

The copter bot sighed, his optic shuttering as he sagged where he stood. He was tired, okay? He’d been fighting for so long. He’d left the Aerial Corps because he hadn’t wanted to fight, he hadn’t wanted his life to be defined by violence. He’d been Good and Whole, back then. Back when he’d still had his hands and his shop and his watches and clocks. Back before the Senate stole it all from him.

The memory of his loss burned through him, white-hot and raging. His engine snarled, and before he realized what he was doing he raked his claws along the wall, drawing deep gouges into the metal. He stared at the damage, his engine growling with pent up aggression. He had to fight. It was all he knew. Ever since he’d lost his watches, all he’d known was violence, violence, and more violence. Now, it was the only language he knew, the only thing he understood. He lived and breathed violence, and with every passing day the storm raging in his helm grew worse.

Whirl wasn’t sane. He was well aware of that fact. But what was he supposed to do about it? There were no psychologists, not among the Autobots or Decepticons. Even if there were, he wouldn’t go. His thoughts were his own. He wasn’t about to bare his spark to some soft little processor-doctor in the vain hope it might help. It wouldn’t. He knew that. Medics, of the psychiatric kind or otherwise, never wanted to help him. Even when they had to treat him to save his life, it was always the bare minimum he needed before they kicked him out of their medbay. Medics weren’t good. Not to him, never for him.

He stared at the damaged wall for another beat, then turned his helm away and walked out of the room. He stopped, surprised when his exit was met with the sight of Bulkhead. Immediately, he forced his EM field to project cheer and humor, forcing down the exhaustion and melancholy that he knew had been wrapped in it before. No one could know. Everyone already knew ol’ Whirlybird was insane and prone to fits of violence. He wouldn’t let them know how bad off his processor actually was. It would make his end goal for the end of the War easier to get away with. He didn’t want to be helped. “Help” was usually just another excuse other bots used to hurt him anyway.

“Bulky!” Whirl chirped. “Fancy meeting you here! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Don’t tell me the Prime asked you to escort little ol’ me?”

Bulkhead seemed mildly confused but mostly amused. “You’re still the same Whirl, aren’t you?” he grinned. “No, but Jackie and I got one of the spare rooms here set up for you. It’s only got a berth in it right now, but if you’re staying on Team Prime you’ll need your own space.”

Whirl blinked, cocking his helm. His winglets fluttered at his back. “Awe!” he cooed. “You shouldn’t have! I’m flattered!”

He chuckled, then gestured with one large hand. “This way. I’ll show you were it is. Optimus said you can rest and regain your strength for the rest of the day, but tomorrow he’d like to talk to you and explain our situation here.”

Whirl set off to follow the big green bot as he walked off. “Fine by me! It’ll be nice to recharge in a berth again! Lemme tell ya, the ground on this mudball isn’t comfortable at all!” he complained. “I made the mistake of recharging in some of that organic plant matter once, and I’m still picking out organic bits from my seams!”

Bulkhead chuckled, grinning over his shoulder. “Yeah, Earth can be pretty messy sometimes. It’s a pretty neat planet, though. I think you’ll like it, especially the humans!”

“Well, if the rest of the tinies are anything like that Miko one, then I probably will!”

“Miko’s a class all on her own.” Primus bless him, Bulkhead seemed proud of that. “She’s my ward. Optimus assigned her and the other two children to three of us when they accidentally discovered our secret.”

“Awe, you’re like a proud creator. That’s adorable, Bulky.”

“Wha-no!” he sputtered, field flaring with embarrassment. “It’s not like that! I just take care of her while she’s here! She’s a good kid.”

“You’re not helping your case, buddy.”

Bulkhead groaned, coming to a stop in front of a door. “Oh, just shut it, Whirl.” Despite the harsh words, there was no true anger in his voice. “Anyway, this is your room. I’m going to go join the others. You’re free to do what you want.” he said, then spun on his heel and hurried off, likely to escape further teasing.

Whirl stared after him in amusement, then opened the door and slipped in, letting it slide shut behind him. As Bulkhead had said, there was only a berth in the room, but he could add to it as time went on. Besides, right now he only needed the berth anyway. He padded over to it, and let himself fall face-first into it. He kicked his legs and flopped around to get his whole body into the berth, then rolled and twisted until he’d gotten himself wrapped in the mesh blanket that had been left on it.

He was tired. He’d been traveling for a long time without proper recharge. He could deal with the things to come in the morning. Right now, he just wanted rest. Whirl sighed, optic slipping shut as he relaxed. In the silence of the room, he let his processor wander, slipping from thought to thought until recharge took him.

And as day turned to night and and rest of the base bedded down, Whirl slept on, dreaming dreams of all the things he had been, and all the things he could be.

———————————————————————————————————

So, I don’t really have an excuse for this. I like Whirl. He was fun in Cyberverse, and when I realized he existed in other media I got excited. Full disclosure, I didn’t read the comics. But! I do know a bit about him from other sources. So this was my interpretation of Alligned Continuity Whirl. Idk if I’ll continue this. I might, it was all very self-indulgent.

But, anyway, let me know what you think! I hope y’all liked it. Whirl is fun to write. He’s going to be a horrible influence on Miko, just know that in advance.

Until next time, folks!

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years ago

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Soooooo Revali and Link would be really cute together. Revali might be able to help Link overcome his anxieties and Link's support might help Revali with his insecurities. A very lovely couple bc they are interesting characters foils. Lovely ship.

You know it’s been a while since I’ve gone off the rails about how perfect Revalink is and in an effort to maintain some semblance of quality and sanity on this blog I’ll try not to to scream incoherently but yes you’re absolutely right they are perfect. Ok that’s it moving on. Nothing else to see here folks

OK so there’s this writing technique called “facade breaking” that is basically the principle that you have two characters who foil each other, but in ways that they both become better people because of each other. A character’s facade, or sometimes just called “the lie,” is the mindset or idea that they cling too that makes them who they are at the start of the story. It’s the image of themselves they want to keep that initially makes them hesitant or resistant to change. The breaking down of that lie/facade in order to reveal the “truth” or reality is what a character arc is. If you want a quick example of this, you can look at King Rhoam in Age of Calamity.

The facade of his character is that he doesn’t have time to be caring for his daughter because he needs to keep up appearances and focus on the Calamity. There isn’t time to coddle Zelda or let her be her own person, it’s just all about her powers. That facade starts to wear down over the course of the story, there’s cracks in it whenever Zelda and Terrako are together, and especially when he is alone, given solemn looks for the audience to see. However, the existence of a facade in the first place means that characters are resistant to the truth, and therefore resistant to change. The story has not yet put Rhoam through enough struggle to get him to change his viewpoint, which is why even until the day of Calamity, he is still insistent in his strict ways. The facade is only completely broken down during the moment of highest tragedy, which in a three act structure is usally the mid-point, in our case, the day of Calamity. When facades are broken and characters are faced with the truth--in our case, Rhoam sees that his abrasive and almost emotionally abusive actions towards his daughter were for nothing and he regrets not focusing more on loving and caring for his daughter because that was really all that mattered--that is the point in their arc where they actively change. Thus, for the rest of the story as Rhoam reunites with Zelda and lets her lead the reclamation of Hyrule, he supports her as his daughter more openly, and by the end of the game that aspect of his character is changed for the better.

Ok got all that? So the thing with Revalink is that they are both foils, AND facade breakers for each other. [A foil is just a character that is opposite another to highlight each other’s characteristics. They don’t necessarily bring out the best in each other or be an inciter in their character arc. A good example might be Bojack and Mr. Peanutbutter if you watch Bojack Horseman. They’re characters that foil each other, but they don’t both break each other’s facades. A lot of the work for Mr. Peanutbutter’s case is done by his actions and the events around him.] Like we saw with King Rhoam, the things that break a character’s facade doesn’t necessarily need to be people, BUT for the purposes of romance, it is much more interesting if they are.

The reason why enemies to lovers and foil characters are so often shipped is because you can already “sense” that potential for facade breaking in those characters. You can see how, when pitted against each other, or otherwise, they can improve the other.

But the thing is for relationships like Revalink, a character being a facade breaker doesn’t stop at just, being the character that breaks their facade. That is a different trope, like one you might see in Twilight or some Mary Sue fanfic--the perfect girl or whatever meets the badboy and the girl “fixes” the badboy and they kiss. That is not inherently bad, but it is the construction of one character at the cost of another’s. And that’s what makes Revalink so great, because you can clearly see that [in fanon, I should mention] shipping them still maintains the contruct of their character, that their flaws can still exist, and that their character arcs don’t necessarily clash to make room for only one, but instead intertwine and weave like two waveforms.

I’m not saying that it’s impossible for ships like Sidlink to have a “mutual facade breaker” format, but I will argue that Revalink is the best example of it. Link’s flaws is Revali’s strength. Revali’s mindset opposes Link’s. Revali’s facade is opposite and in direct conflict with Link’s. One believes that they don’t need anyone but themselves, and failure is only a consequence of them not being/trying enough. The other sees isolation as a burden, but takes it up anyhow because destiny says that only one hero can save the world. One hides truth and insecurity with a veil of arrogance and witty remarks, the other does it in complete silence. If you put these two characters together it is physically impossible for them to not break each other’s facade. It is literally impossible for them to not change each other in some aspect.

Interesting romance isn’t just about seeing how characters like each other and get together. I mean yes, Coffeeshop AUs and the like are all well and fun don’t get me wrong. But some of the most interesting relationships that get you really invested are the ones where characters break facades, where you can actively see and compare a character’s past and present and see how they have changed for the better. The art of breaking facades gives so much potential for conflict and tenderness alike. And when the story’s arching towards it ends, and Revali and Link are together, you can look at the writing and the process that led them there and come to a very earned conclusion that yes, “they were made for each other.”

#revalink #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #long post #kip shut the FUCK UP ABOUT WRITING challenge #revali #link #link botw

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ratisnotcrying · 4 years ago

Text

you’re useless

Summary: “Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

Prompt: "You're useless." from palettes-and-prompts

Pairings: background Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay

Warnings: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, hidden injury, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: this is crossposted on ao3 - ik that repeticism isnt a word but im making it one for this fic

~~~

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

~~~

Rowan isn’t quite sure how they found themself on board the Carte Blanche and on the outskirts of the Aurinko crime family.

They had the typical, cliché backstory of a lone-wolf operating within the underbelly of society - a surface-perfect home life destroyed by something seemingly mundane blah blah blah, trust issues, a long line of enemies, enough friends to count on one hand, and nothing much else to show for over two decades of living.

One good thing about working alone is the need to get creative, and this is what had put them on Buddy’s radar in the first place. A few years ago, Rowan had been hired to acquire a tank of rare fish - this is about where they stopped asking questions, they didn't care as long as they got paid - and, after some very elaborate lies, an even more elaborate disguise and a rigged game of cards, they had managed to win a tank of the ugliest fish they had ever seen.

The part that caught Buddy’s attention, though, was the escape. Rowan had been found out before they had a chance to get out of the building, and had only managed to escape because they had memorised the security’s routes. It took a bit of guesswork, but they had been able to work out where the security would be coming from, found an unguarded window, clambered down a drain pipe, fish tank sloshing precariously in their bag, and landed near perfectly in a pile of rubbish bags outside the window - if you discount the broken bottle that had gouged their leg.

Buddy had picked Rowan up a few weeks after Juno and Rita, but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, no matter how much anyone may have wanted it to be.

The problem wasn’t that Rowan couldn’t do their job - if that were the case they wouldn’t be here. No, the problem was that being thrown into close quarters with a bunch of strangers was… a lot. Especially for someone who had been alone for so long.

Rowan liked Jet well enough, he was straightforward and honest but intense; Buddy’s ‘take no shit but do no harm’ attitude aligned perfectly with her unwavering morals, and this was a welcome relief from the lies and deceit Rowan had lived with for so long. Rita and Peter were surprisingly welcoming, and Rowan formed a reluctant almost-friendship with Vespa. Juno, though. He and Rowan were too alike: fiercely independent, stubborn as a mule, and they both fell back into old habits as easily as anything.

Maybe this clash of bad habits, the deceptive comfort in being who you were, even for a moment, is how this job went so spectacularly wrong.

~~~

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out job. Rita had taken out the security cameras, Jet was waiting in the car, and Juno was sneaking down the darkened hallways with Rowan.

“I still don’t understand why we need this goddamn painting. It looks like a baby threw up crayons and then just threw up on a canvas.”

“I’ve just eaten, Juno, shush if you don’t want me to throw up too.”

“Rowan, darling, please do not do that - this painting is priceless and highly sought after, which is why, Juno, we need to swap this for the information August Reid is refusing to give us. I did mention this in our family meeting before you left.”

Vespa’s aggravated voice piped up in the background of Buddy’s comms, “He was too busy swooning all over Ransom to pay attention.”

~~~

They had gotten the painting easily, so it was just a matter of getting out again. Rowan had been tasked with studying the guards’ shift patterns and routes, and had had no problem getting them in. Apparently, their luck couldn't hold.

They crept forwards, leading Juno left, right, left again, ducking this way and that to avoid the, quite frankly excessive, number of guards patrolling the halls. And that’s when it happened.

Rowan ducked right around a corner into another corridor, one that was supposed to be empty for another six minutes at least and there, at the other end, was a guard. A guard who was looking right at them.

“Crap.”

“What? Rowan we need to kee- crap.”

Both of their comms beeped, Buddy asking them questions with thinly veiled panic in her voice, but neither of them answered, stood frozen, eyes locked with the guard. Then all hell broke loose.

Everyone took out their guns and bullets started flying, the guard was shouting and footsteps could be heard thundering closer from all directions.

A tidal wave of de ja vu crashed over Rowan, “Fuck, this way,” they shouted, turning to run, voice tinged with something Juno didn’t have time to decipher, but Juno grabbed their sleeve and dragged them in the opposite direction.

“Hell no. You are done giving directions, I am not letting you get me killed here.”

They ran back the way they had come, and Juno skidded to a stop in front of a storage cupboard.

“Get in, quickly. There’s a vent at the top we need to get through. Do you think you can manage that?”

Rowan wasn't sure - there was a searing pain in their side that sent shocks of nausea through them with each breath and black dots into their vision with each movement. But this was their fault - they had failed at the one job they had - the one thing they were supposed to be able to do, they got themself shot and had put Juno in danger. They did not need to hold the job up any longer - they just had to get out of here and they could deal with the shot later.

It was a tight squeeze, both of them were crammed awkwardly into the vents, waiting for Rita to work out where they were so she could guide them out.

“Christ, it’s cramped in here - my side is killing me.” Rowan muttered to themself.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Everything seemed to shift and sharpen, Rowan suddenly violently aware of everything around them whilst simultaneously being blurred by memories they had tried so hard to bury: Juno was trying to listen and see if they had been found, there was shouting from down the hall, the smell of musty metal was almost overwhelming and Rowan jerked as if physically struck by Juno’s words, completely at a loss for what to say. Luckily, Rita, who had been on the comms, was not quite as speechless.

“Mistah Steel! That is a horrible thing to say, how could you-”

“Goddamnit Rita, I don't have time for this - how they hell do we get out of here?”

~~~

Jet was still outside with the car, and took off at break-neck speed as soon as the doors were shut. Juno sat in the front seat, the painting on his lap, talking to Buddy about something, and Rowan was slouched in the back, trying to cover up the fact that their organs were about to fall out. Well, that was an exaggeration. Probably. Just to be safe they grabbed a jacket they had left in the car weeks ago and slipped it on, wrapping it tightly around themself to try and hide the blood and hopefully-not-organs.

Juno had gotten a bit banged up in the vents, so when they arrived back at the Carte Blanche he went straight to the medical bay to meet Buddy with the painting and then to get checked.

“Rowan, it is recommended that you also get checked out. You look very ill,” Jet said as Rowan turned away from the medical bay and towards their room.

“No worries, Jet, I just want to get changed first - these clothes are filthy.”

~~~

“It was a mistake, darling, the best of us make them.”

“Yeah, well, it ws a stupid mistake - all they had to do was make sure they knew where the guards would be and then make sure we weren’t there!”

Vespa growled at Juno, who was gesticulating wildly whilst she was trying to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“Juno, I don’t care if Rowan walked straight up to that guard and told him why you were there - we are a family, and you will not speak to any member of this family like that.”

“That’s another thing - I get why everyone is here except Rowan - you said it was some daring escape that brought them here, but after today’s performance… what exactly do they bring to the table?”

“I’m going to leave that for you to work out, Juno.” Buddy said tersely.

He deflated a little, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Goddamnit.

“Are we about done here, Vespa, I’ve got places to be.”

~~~

Rowan would quite like a stiff drink right about now. Partially to actually drink, but mainly because they had run out of steriliser and this wound was definitely going to get infected and it would be this whole thing and they would get ill and-

“Get it together, Rowan.” They hissed, pulling out a sterile needle and taking a deep breath as they began to stitch themself up. This was not the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last, that Rowan has had to do this - working alone and working recklessly meant most jobs ended with soft pink staining bandages and staining baths, throat and skin burning from cheap whiskey. Tonight didn’t have to be different.

The shot had skimmed their side so, luckily, no organs were falling out, but it was still going to be a bitch to heal, likely would be ripped open a few times and leave a nasty scar. This, unfortunately, was also not uncommon.

The painful repeticism of the needle going in and out lulled Rowan into a violent comfort they tried to avoid, the panicked calm soothing them until they couldn't quite hold back the memories they had been reminded of earlier.

Raised voices, gritted teeth and finger shaped bruises. Running, up stairs, through doors, arou-

There was a knock at their door. They flinched, snapping back to reality.

“Rowan, it’s Juno. Can I- can we talk?”

They almost said yes, just called Juno in like nothing was wrong. Then their brain kicked it’s way through the fog and realised they were sitting in bloody trousers, half stitched up wound and thread fully exposed to anyone who might walk in.

“Rowan?”

They picked up the shirt closest to them - part of a matching pyjama set - and tried to tuck the needle away so they could carry on when Juno was gone, and threw the door open.

“Sorry, I was just getting changed. Just sit anywhere.” They mumbled, haphazardly shoving piles of washing off of a chair.

“Thanks. Listen, about earlier, I know that you didn’t mean for that to happen. It’s been a rough week, not that that’s an excuse for what I said- are you alright?”

Rowan had half-sat, half-fallen back onto their seat on the bed and was focusing very hard on not fainting, so much so that they couldn’t really understand what Juno was saying. Maybe this wound was worse than they had thought. They nodded and hoped for the best.

“Right… Anyways, what I actually came to say is that I'm sorry I called you useless. You made a mistake, no one died, well I don’t think anyone died. Whatever, it couldn’t have been avoided. I know that I can be abrasive,” he said with a look that meant he had been told this many, many times before, “but that doesn’t mean that- Rowan, you really look like crap.”

“Wow, thanks, Juno, you say the sweetest things,” they took a deep breath and tried not to panic at the fact that they couldn’t really feel most of their torso anymore, “I know you didn’t mean it, we’re fine. Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine, I just need a nap.” The last words were pointed, hinting sharply at Juno to leave.

“Yeah, because slurred speech and sweating and shaking all scream ‘I’m fine’,” he paused for a moment and Rowan could almost see the cogs whirring, piecing together the information - bullets flying, the unidentified something in Rowan’s voice, the jacket they hadn’t been wearing before, the sterile wrappers on the bed… Then the last piece clicked into place, “Rowan, is that blood?”

They looked down at their top - their white pyjama top - as their vision began to fade out, their head too heavy to hold up and mouth too numb to speak, “No-”

~~~

When they came to, they were in the medical wing wearing a loose sleep shirt - distinctly not soaked in blood - and shorts. They tried to get up and go but a not-so-gentle hand pushed them back to lying down.

“Goddamnit, stop moving. You’ve already ripped your stitches once and you weren’t even awake,” Vespa growled, fussing with the bandages wrapped tight around Rowan’s middle.

“Sorry, I’ve always been lively in bed.”

“That’s cute, darling. What’s not cute is the stunt you pulled last night - if Juno hadn’t come to see you when he did... “ An uncomfortable look passed over Buddy’s face, “Let’s not dwell on that. I will want to talk about this later, but, for now, somebody else wants to see you.”

“Great,” Rowan tried to get up again, “Where are they?”

“Nice try, tough guy, but you’re staying right here until mean old Vespa lets you out.”

“Bite me, Steel.”

“No, thanks, I think I'll leave that to-” He cut himself off at Buddy's warning glance and didn't speak again until Buddy and Vespa had both left the room.

Rowan glanced at the bandage wrapped around Juno’s bicep, “Is it bad?”

“No, just a flesh wound, unlike that one you’re sporting - what was the plan? Stitch it up and hope you didn't drop dead in the middle of the next job?”

“Something like that.”

“Goddamnit. Okay, I don't know how much of what I said yesterday you heard but I'm sorry for what I said. I know we don't really… get along, but you remind me of,” he sighed, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Juno, I really don't need a pep talk.”

“Well, here's the thing - you absolutely do because this,” he gestured to the bandages and the bed, “can’t happen again. You can't see that we care about you - you wouldn't be here if Buddy didn't think you were worth something and Rita is the best judge of character I know; she thinks you’re great. You have a goddamn family here, Rowan, stop trying to push us out.”

Rowan sighed, and Juno graciously didn't mention the tears in their eyes. “I don't know how to-” Rowan shook their head.

“We aren't going anywhere, Rowan, I know that's not what you want to hear but I don't care. For right now you need to stay here and stop ripping out your stitches. Take care of yourself for once. Then we can work on whatever complexes you’re holding onto so tight.” Juno said, squeezing Rowan’s shoulder as he stood.

Rowan didn’t say anything till he was half-way out the door, “Hey, Juno? Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 4 years ago

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From @ednamrenee 's comments that are way too wonderful and insightful to keep to the notes only and I'll try to go point by point with this since there is so much I agree to with this (excuse the messy thoughts as I go)

Lol, and I enjoy hearing the perspectives of those who have a harsher take on JC than me. 😂 I agree with you re: CQL, it definitely didn't seem to know where to put JC's character, which is a shame because he's a very interesting one. I don't mind if CQL-onlies want to that to that version, media consumption being a very personal experience and all that, but if I have to read one more interpretation like JC thought the life-debt between WQ and him was paid..

I do think that it's a detriment to the adaptions closer to the novel and the AU that CQL is to be so heavily tied together into the western fandom. Since they are so different from each other they really can't be compared to each other. The characters are not alike which lends to the very out of place interpretations that become so heavily popular.

...when he got her out of prison, I'm gonna go insane. Never mind that it's not what happened in novel canon (or even donghua canon, I don't remember about the manhua), never mind that it was an added scene to go forth with the one-sided JC/WQ thing, never mind that even if it had been canon, it in no way balances the life-debt JC owed the Wen siblings (and I'm not even considering the golden core transfer, we can't hold over him what he doesn't know).

In terms of the debt he owed even with the awkward romance they tried to make, if it was "payed back" it does not excuse him from essentially hiding that away and letting it be buried under the calls to exterminate all Wens. It does not erase the fact that they had helped, and he chose to just not expand upon this when their safety was at stake out of, I suppose, petty jealousy of Wei Wuxian (I really don't know what CQL was going for with his resentment towards Wei Wuxian since he'd had that since he was young. But, it also makes whatever love he did have for Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian so much more shallow then it was in the novel and starkly more cruel for a character they tried to humanize while keeping the novel points skewing the themes of Jiang Cheng as a character.

It just feels like a sorry understanding of life-debts and that's why culturally huge thing, so...no? Don't do that? It's fine having JC not pay much attention to the debts. It makes him interesting, it makes him coldly pragmatic over valuing even things that his own culture holds dear. It's a great trait, and even a good one for a leader maybe. I am up for JC deviating for the norm when it's about such virtues while WWX sticks to them, and JC wasn't exactly sneering...

Yes! This is Jiang Cheng as a character at his simplest and why I personally find him fascinating! He is pragmatic and cold to a fault that works well in the cultivation world MDZS set up, however, it doesn't work the same in CQL when you have the boogyman story of the Yin Iron as the root of all bad instead. The character actions no longer line up with the theme of the original work since so much emphasis is placed on a piece of metal ruining everything instead of the cruelty of humans alone.

...at the mo dao until it put him in a politically delicate situation. That's fine! Interesting character traits! But like. Fanon perception more often than not strips all of these from him and that's just unacceptable to me. I'm not even going to speak of the entire genocide thing, despite knowing about the innocence of the Wens and how they're just feeble old people and women and children.

The bleed over of CQL trying to make Jiang Cheng softer in his youth made headcanons with no true base for it in his behavior as an adult a lot more muddied. As an adult in any adaption, he's not really shown to have any positive sort of sentimentality towards Wei Wuxian. Certainly with Jin Ling in CQL it implied heavily that he did hit him just like Madam Yu to Wei Wuxian, where at least in the novel he was just... a very aggressively, unkind, cruel uncle that spoiled his nephew and gave in with that cycle of negative action over progressive action (The massive narrative mirror between how Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji raised a child left to them suddenly). He was not sorry for the hand he took in killing the Wens, he blamed them for taking his right hand man away and putting his sect, in what he thought, was unneeded trouble, morals be damned like his mother. Like she had said about Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan, they stuck their head too high and they brought death upon themselves for talking back to a higher power for acting on their kindness over politics.

(Lol, this got long, sorry!) I absolutely agree that in terms of interpersonal relationships, Jin Ling is the only one with whom Jiang Cheng can begin to grow. The thing about the Yunmeng brothers is that whatever was between them is now tainted by bad blood (quite literally) on both sides, both of them have hurt each, knowingly or unknowingly. Both of them are a source for mental stress for each other, that's canon for any adaptation.

I understand the urge to want a rosier, I guess, take on this. I'm more used to the novel interpretations and neither ever really use the wording of being like family, or brothers, this was left to Jiang Yanli specifically calling Wei Wuxian her brother as the only Jiang to do that. The barrier of their social class is still a backbone of Jiang Cheng's possessiveness in thinking Wei Wuxian was his to order about as a sect leader twisting the innocent promise Wei Wuxian gave. But both don't associate anything positive with the other anymore. Wei Wuxian certainly isn't sentimental for Yunmeng Jiang as a home when he is resurrected or Jiang Cheng. He was planning to run off in the opposite direction of it to start as someone new! That does not read to me as pining or love anymore for the past (and I've written a piece before how CQL sanitized his longing of Lan Wangji solely by replacing it with Lotus Pier want and Jiang Yanli as a parental figure).

Can we not act like "ohh it's just miscommunication, they're both just dumb and horrible at feelings". It's not that simple. MXTX establishes this painstakingly, and just loving someone has never been the point. YZY loved JC too, she still managed to mess up his head. Love isn't the point, which sounds very hurtful I know, but it's also true. Reconciliation after all this bad blood takes a huge amount of emotional labour on both parts.

I can not reiterate enough that love was not the only thing needed between the Yunmeng siblings. None of them really ever understood each other and had different wants. Jiang Cheng never understood Wei Wuxian and his fascination of Lan Wangji out of discomfort. He did not accept whatever was going on there and later used it as shaming fodder. Both have done an unforgivable disservice to the other and really, nothing can mend old hurts as bad as they were. The kindest option is to leave each other alone and move on with a happier life for the self. The codependency of this is more than disturbing when used in reconciliation material especially for Wei Wuxian who was never that and is the one who actively asked for Jiang Cheng to move on, because he does not have the will to extend the effort of rebuilding a relationship anymore. It's a very human response to a broken relationship and not cruel, it just is a realistic view of a bad relationship that always ended for the worst when they tried to talk. Their own ideals are nothing alike and clash, they are not what the other needs and Wei Wuxian by the end of the novel is ready to leave it and move on with others without Jiang Cheng.

And, never apologize for long thoughts! I love it! This is why I very much enjoy interactions on here that are productive. Seriously I am a Jiang Cheng fan, I am just not into the gum drop sweetness for reconciliation. They are a disservice to him and his end that can better him without the crutch of Wei Wuxian there, which is exactly how his resentment spawned in the first place. He has a chance to do better by himself on his own terms, that doesn't need to be ruined with a codependent bond that had been forced and very one-sided in the end and remained as that for 13 years.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #I do love him as the antagonist he is #wei wuxian

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specterchasing-a · 4 years ago

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Eddie Carridine & Dani Edwards

A first attempt at analyzing Eddie’s relationships.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Depression, suicidal ideations (in the form of disregard for their own lives), and generally heavy topics such as loneliness and death.

At first glance, Eddie and Dani don’t seem to have much in common. She’s a dedicated slayer with a strict code, someone who values the importance of supernatural secrecy above almost all else. He’s a loose-lipped kid with a camera, preaching about how wonderful supernatural beings are. Needless to say, they clash—hard, but dig a little deeper than surface level and these two have more in common than they might ever know.

SOCIAL LIVES

Dan’s moms kept her on a rigid training schedule with little room for interpersonal relationships to develop. Eddie’s parents, albeit with vastly different motivations behind their actions, tried their best to keep him quiet and obedient. As one would assume, this kinda fucked them both up in a major way. Neither is particularly well-versed in navigating social situations, though that disadvantage presents itself in different ways between them. Dani keeps her emotions to herself and prefers to keep people at arm’s length while Eddie throws himself at whoever shows him an ounce of kindness. Different, yet alike, you feel me?

VIEWS ON DEATH

As a slayer, Dani’s gift is death (sorry, not sorry, for the Buffy reference) and Eddie, being a medium, has been surrounded by death since childhood. They cope with grief in different ways but both view death as something inevitable, maybe they even think that’s a good thing. Dani’s purpose is to die for the sake of humanity. If she doesn’t, she’s a failure. Eddie believes he doesn’t have a purpose outside of shepherding the dead and exposing the truth. Beyond that, he’s just a corpse waiting to happen. Neither Dani or Eddie view death as something to be afraid of. It is what it is, and it’ll probably come sooner rather than later.

STUBBORNNESS

Yes, Eddie and Dani hold directly opposing views on the subject of supernatural secrecy but, more than that, they’re both assholes about it in the same way. When they first reunited at the grocery store and Dani saved Eddie’s life, Eddie blew up at her. He told her exactly what he thought and didn’t pull punches. It was not the first time Dani had been assaulted with narrow-minded stupidity and probably wouldn’t be the last. Initially, she bit back as she asserted her own views. Neither listened to the other, not really. Both of them were dead-set on believing the other was wrong, leaving no room for growth or understanding. They were like two unfortunately similar magnets pushing each other away.

IDEALS

Another instance of Dani and Eddie being alike, yet different can be seen in what motivates their actions. Clearly, they go about things with oppositional methods, but they are both driven by a need to make the world a safer place. Dani, rough-n-tough slayer that she is, is more interested in protecting humans and ridding the world of supernatural threats. By doing her job, she literally makes the streets of White Crest safer for its squishy, mortal inhabitants. Eddie, on the other hand, wants the world to be safer for supernatural beings. He sees them as outcasts with targets on their backs, bogged down by unwarranted prejudices and falsely spun bad reputations. In his idea of utopia we’d all hold hands while we sing ‘We Are The World’ and outgrow things like murder and human sacrifice. If you ask me, neither of them have realistic expectations for how the world should treat supernaturals, but what matters is that they firmly believe they’ve got it all figured out and that the rest of the population needs to catch up with their massive brains. I realize this echoes a lot of what I said about their stubbornness but this is my impassioned rant about two idiots and I’ll be redundant if I want to.

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS

Dani, considering she was raised to be a murder machine with a quickly approaching expiration date, doesn’t see love as a possibility for herself. For other people? Sure, but such luxuries shouldn’t be wasted on someone with a terminal birthright. Eddie, though this is quickly changing in lieu of his budding relationship with Alfie, never saw himself as someone who would fall in love either. Because of repression and guilt, he wanted to be right, too. Romantic love, whatever shape it took, was wonderful for everyone else. Let them fall into each other’s arms and make five-year plans together, Eddie would keep himself busy memorizing gravestones. Love scared him, so he left it alone. From what I can tell, Dani’s not scared of love—it’s just inconceivable to think she might experience it. Still, recent growth on Eddie’s part aside, they used to both be resigned to going through life alone.

LONELINESS

Okay, yeah, they’re resigned to going through life alone but, unfortunately for them, human beings are social creatures. Dani, I believe, might not always be aware of how much she needs other people but, at times, she reads as an exceptionally lonely character. On dash, characters have reached out to her after crises and her initial responses were always heartfelt and, most importantly, crossed out. Her first instinct is to show affection and concern because she does, in fact, know on some level that she needs people in her life but… that’s not supposed to be in the cards for her. Dani shelves her unfeigned distress in favor of lukewarm receptions. Some exceptions might be with Athena or a few other characters at times but, for the most part, Dani tends to isolate herself.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Eddie. If someone says so much as one nice thing about him, he’s prepared to commit atrocities in their name. He’s not shy about it, either. He loves deeply and without prejudice. Recently, people have shown up in his life that give him countless chances to show-off how much devotion spills out of his heart on a daily basis. But it wasn’t always like that. For most of Eddie’s life, the majority of people he met made him feel like a freak. High school was hell for him, not that he’s unique for that. His fellow students tormented and ostracized him, his parents wanted nothing to do with him, and he struggled for a long-time trying to figure out how to love himself when no one else seemed to. That particular obstacle is still an issue but it’s thankfully becoming more manageable. However, even with new friends and old relationships being galvanized, it’s hard for him to believe the past won’t infect the present and future. Yesterday’s heartache comes back to him in aftershocks of loneliness and fear. No matter what, Eddie cannot completely escape feeling alone. So, he and Dani sadly have that in common as well.

#c: dani #wickedscontent #// LMFAO did i write an essay about eddie and dani? yeah pretty much #it's not my fault ci's amazing and their child has a vice grip on my heart #plus i plan to do these for a few of the other major players in eddie's life #so stay tuned #suicidal ideations tw

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the-cult-of-russo · 4 years ago

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Push and Pull (Part 10)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of trauma

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

A week passed by in no time and most of it was spent in bed for Daphne as she recovered. Her wounds and bruises were healing nicely and she could walk without feeling like she was about to keel over. She needed the rest though with the amount of blood she lost. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Matt or his alter ego but Foggy stopped by every day to bring her food for dinner. Surprisingly, she wasn't sick of him yet and he insisted it was all part of the friendship package. She appreciated it since she hadn't felt up to cooking. It was all home cooked stuff and she had no idea if he'd cooked it himself or someone else had. Either way it was good. He'd come over and hang out with her while they ate and just make idle conversation. But as the week wore on she was getting increasingly stressed about the fact that Mr Lee's son hadn't been caught yet. Foggy had commented on her waning patience but she couldn't help it.

She was lounging in bed in a pair of yoga pants and the t-shirt Matt had loaned her. She didn't know why it was so soft but she liked it and he hadn't asked for it back. As far as she was concerned, it now belonged to her. She was getting restless. Between the maniac not being caught and her being cooped up to recover, she'd gotten bored. She couldn't wait to go back out and do something. She hadn't told Foggy about her nightmares about the attack. She had them every night and she wasn't getting much sleep. She had too much pride to admit how much the ordeal had shaken her. Seeing a dead body and being brutally attacked like that had done a number on her confidence. She couldn't get the images of Mr Lee's lifeless body out of her mind or forget how it felt when her air supply was being cut off. She'd often wake gasping for breath and unable to breathe. She hoped it would ease in time.

Her phone rang from the nightstand and she groaned, rolling over to get it. Glancing at the screen she saw it was Brett. He’d called her every day and it was always that same; 'Sorry, D, nothing today. We'll keep trying.' She appreciated it and Brett seemed dead set on nailing the bastard. But he had somehow just vanished into thin air and she hated it.

"Hey," she sighed into the phone.

"Got some good news," she could practically hear his grin and she sat up quickly. She winced at the pinching feeling of her stitches but it didn't hurt too much. She was glad her body was starting to heal.

"Please tell me you got him," she pleaded hopefully.

"Not us. Asshole is currently comatose in hospital. Daredevil found him. Really got him good too. I know you worked with him a bit, you must've left quite the impression on him. If this little prick is anything to go by, the Devil was pissed," he chuckled.

She blinked dumbly for a moment as his words soaked in. Matt had found him. And beat him into a coma. Her brain wasn't quite comprehending it. Why would he go out of his way like that? Then again, the guy was crazy and a danger and most definitely a criminal. Of course the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would hand his ass to him.

"I'm glad, got what he deserved," she bit out. She really hoped he'd suffered.

"Damn right. Next time you see your horned friend, make sure you thank him for his hard work," he laughed. She snorted wondering how he had no idea how he interacted with the Devil almost on a daily basis.

"I will. What happens now?" She asked, nibbling her lower lip.

"He's got guards here for when he wakes up. When he does, we book him. We got stacks of evidence against him and Mr Lee's wife folded too. She's going to testify for a reduced sentence for her part in all of this… you did good, D. Without your help this might not have been solved," he said sincerely.

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows.

"Yeah, maybe," she murmured. She knew there was some truth to his words. Just like Matt said, this would have happened no matter what. No matter if she'd warned Mr Lee or even if she'd never met him at all. She knew she helped get him justice. Yet she still felt that guilt burrowing in her mind.

"Alright. I gotta go, but I'll keep you posted if anything happens," he said.

"Thanks, Brett," she smiled softly. She felt a huge relief that he'd been caught now. He'd finally get punished for what he did. Part of her wished that the nightmares would end now.

"Hey, don't thank me. Thank your boy, Daredevil," he chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah. I will," she rolled her eyes goodnaturedly before hanging up.

Part of her wanted to see Mr Lee's son. See the damage Matt had done. Maybe it was sadistic of her but she couldn't help it after what he'd put her through. She wondered how it went down. Did Matt look for him or was it by chance? And why did Brett seem so shocked by how badly he'd beaten the maniac? Brett saw plenty of the thugs Matt dealt with but he acted like this was worse.

Glancing to her large window, she saw the moon filtering in a little. She pushed herself off the bed, sitting on the window ledge as she opened it slightly.

"You around?" She asked seemingly to no one. She was curious if he'd hear her. She had no idea what range his hearing was or if he was even out and about right now. For all she knew he was fast asleep in bed. But she should have known better. Of course there was no rest for the wicked. Or the righteous in his case. He jumped down and landed on her fire escape with such grace it almost shocked her.

"In the neighbourhood," he smirked. He seemed a lot more himself than the solemn gentleness he'd shown her when she was injured. Part of her missed it, the other part was grateful so it wasn't weird.

"Heard you found Mr Lee's son. Nice work," she flashed him a toothy grin. She'd be a liar if she said she didn't feel heaps better now. Knowing he was caught, that Matt had given him a taste of his own medicine first. It made her perk up. He chuckled, crossing his arms as he leant back on the railings.

"I did. I think he'll be eating out of a straw for a while," he quipped.

"Brett seemed to think you were angrier than usual this time. I didn't even think that was possible," she said, leaning against the window a little.

He chuckled, lowering his head before licking his lower lip.

"Yeah well… I found it hard to hold back," he admitted. She wanted to press on but decided against it. Better not to look into it and go on like normal. Acquaintances at best. Not friends that look out for each other.

"Foggy's been keeping me company everyday. Been bringing me food. I didn't know he could cook so well," making small talk with him felt weird but she'd thanked him and now she didn't know how to end the conversation without being completely rude. She owed him that at least for taking care of the asshole who attacked her.

"Foggy can't cook worth shit," he snorted, looking off at the distance.

"Who’s food have I been eating then?" She asked bewildered.

"Mine," be smirked devilishly at her. It suited him in that moment as his suit was bathed in moonlight.

She blinked for a moment as his words soaked in. Her first thought was how she was impressed he could cook so well without sight. But then she remembered who he was and it paled in comparison to the other shit he could do. Then she was just confused why he'd been cooking for her. She opened her mouth to ask him but he stood up straighter, head tilted as he did the weird listening thing again.

"Gotta go," he flashed her another smirk and with that he was off. She wondered if the more cocky side of his personality was tied to the suit or if it was just him. She settled on figuring he'd been cooking for him and Foggy anyway so she got some too. It was best not to touch anything that meant he was looking out for her. It was weird.

She closed the window and padded back to her bed, getting under the covers with a sigh. Her life had changed quite a bit since meeting the lawyers even if she hadn't known them long. Foggy was actually a breath of fresh air for her. He was always so optimistic but also wouldn't hold back if it was needed. He genuinely was a good friend and the first real friend she'd ever had. Matt on the other had confused her. He was either rude, cocky and snarky, granted most of the time it was in response to her own bitchiness, or he was gentle, protective, and saving her ass. The unpredictability was what bothered her. Never knowing what was going on in his head. She remembered what Foggy said about them clashing because they were alike. Unpredictable was a word used many times to describe her. Maybe her issue with the vigilante was because it was like looking into a mirror. The thought jarred her.

When he was nice, she found she enjoyed his company. And she couldn't say he didn't intrigue her. He really did. Everything from his lack of sight to his extra curricular activities had her curious. But being around him always left her head spinning and her back up. She blew out a breath, deciding she was thinking far too much about Matt and it needed to stop. Once this whole him avenging her bullshit eased off maybe he'd just not drop by anymore. Maybe it would go back to normal.

The next day she spent most of the day getting her PI stuff ready. Checking and double checking her backpack and testing her camera. She was buzzing with excitement that she was going to investigate. She hadn't since the attack. She’d barely left the house. She felt good about jumping right back into it. It was the surveillance job for the Italian Brett had assigned her before everything went down. She needed to scout him out, see where he went and who with. It was simple and easy, well if it went according to plan. So she was feeling more cheerful than she had in a while.

As usual, she liked to wait until it was going dark before she went out. She'd dressed in her dark clothes, a pullover hoodie, jeans and her boots. The boots that she'd had to scrub clean in the bath after they got blood all over them. She couldn't exactly afford more. Her hair was in two French braids so she could easily pull her hood up to conceal her face when needed. Her backpack was on the coffee table along with her camera and she couldn't help checking if the memory card worked every five minutes. A knock on her door made her eyes widen. Fuck, Foggy. She'd forgotten to even let him know she'd be going out and he'd be bringing her dinner as usual. Maybe he'd understand she had things to do.

She swung open the door and Foggy gave her a toothy grin, holding up the bag that she now knew held Matts home cooked food. She was still perplexed by the notion but pushed it out of her mind. When Foggy saw her clothes, his eyes darted over her shoulder to her backpack and camera on the coffee table.

"Oh… you're off out?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment and failing. She felt a pang in her chest.

"Yeah. Gotta get back on the horse sometime," she nodded feeling more than awkward. Foggy pursed his lips before forcing a smile as he nodded at her.

"Yeah… that's… good. I'll uh… I can just…" he backed up a few steps to leave and the pang of guilt got bigger. Damn it all to hell, this is why she didn't do friends.

He looked so disappointed and if she was honest with herself she knew she'd miss their usual friendly dinner herself. She'd been enjoying the companionship and she'd started to get used to not being so alone. Only Foggy Nelson could put a chip in her thick armour.

"Foggy, wait… it's fine. I could use some dinner before I head out," she smiled softly at him. Almost hesitant at this weird and new situation she found herself in. He looked surprised for a moment before a grin split his face. It was still weird to her that he wanted to be around her. Wanted to be her friend.

"Awesome! It's lasagna today, it's so good," he beamed as he came inside.

He navigated her kitchen with ease as he plated their food up for them both. That was the routine and it was always weird to watch him in her kitchen like he lived there but she surprisingly never minded it. He came into the living room, passing her a plate where she sat on the couch and he took his usual spot in the armchair. He started munching with gusto and she pushed some of the food around with her fork for a moment as she glanced at him. Never once had he mentioned Matt when he came here and he'd always made it seem like he himself had cooked the food. He'd never outright said it, no doubt since it would be a bare faced lie. But he'd implied it.

"Matt dropped in last night," she murmured casually, popping a forkful of lasagna into her mouth. Matt was a dick but the man could cook. It was amazing.

"Oh, yeah. He told me, about the whole crazy dick turned coma patient,” he snorted as he scarfed his food down.

"Mhm… he's a great cook, don't you think?" She asked slyly. Foggy started choking on his mouthful of food and she couldn't even suppress the smirk that worked its way into her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Foggy struggled with the food that seemed lodged in his throat.

"He told me, Foggy. I complimented your cooking skills and he told me you can't cook worth shit. He decided to let me know he'd been the one cooking before he slipped off into the night like a goddamn movie villain," she snorted.

"Fine! You got me, the jig is up!" He proclaimed, rather dramatically too if she had to say so. It made her laugh.

"Is there a reason you lied?" She asked with an amused look on her face. He squinted and pointed his fork at her.

"I didn't lie. I never once said I made it. I may have misled you but at no time did I lie," he pressed. Such a lawyer. She rolled her eyes at him with a snort.

"Honestly … me and Matt didn't think you'd eat it if you knew, so I decided to just… not tell you," he shrugged. His throat seemed to be faring better now as he started eating again.

"You really think I'm that petty?" She scoffed. He raised a brow at her before they both burst out laughing. They both knew she was.

"How are you holding up anyway? Feel better now that asshole's been caught?" Foggy asked once they calmed down.

"Yeah. I was starting to give up honestly. It's nice to know he's gonna get what's coming to him. Well… he already kinda has," she smirked as she remembered what Brett said.

"Tell me about it. I was with Brett when he got a call about Keiran at the hospital. I went with him and just… wow," he muttered as he shook his head.

"How bad was he?" She asked curiously. She couldn't even contain the happiness from her voice and he shot her a look. Asshole deserved it though.

"Really bad. I've seen some of the people after Matt’s done with them, but this guy. Ouch. The thing is though… I didn't even feel bad for him. Knowing what he did, seeing what he did to you… I'm not surprised Matt went hard at him," he said carefully.

"I'm honestly surprised. I mean, sure Daredevil catches bad guys and kinda kicks their ass. And I've heard some wild stories about him. But the dude’s in a coma and Brett wasn't sure when he'd wake up. Didn't think Matt would care so much about Mr Lee. He didn't even know him," she murmured, standing up with her now empty plate. She took Foggy's too and padded into the kitchen. It was getting late now and she still had to go out and investigate.

"Matt cares about everyone in this city, whether he's met them or not. And he also really really cares about his friends. He doesn't take too kindly to people attacking them," he responded pointedly from where he sat.

She pursed her lips, plonking the dishes in the sink before turning around. She leant back on the counter and tilted her head at him.

"Bold of you to assume me and Matt are friends," she teased. Foggy just squinted at her as he stood up.

"Well whatever you are, he didn't like that asshole laying his hands on you. Or his knife. So…" he shrugged. She wanted to make a comment. Something about how she didn't need Matt’s protection and they really weren't friends. Acquaintances at most and even that was pushing it. But deep down she knew that Keiran wouldn't have been caught if it wasn't for Daredevil and she tried to push her snark away

"I really need to head out before it's too late," she sighed, glancing to the darkening sky. Foggy sighed with a nod.

"Anything exciting? Nothing dangerous I hope," he frowned. When Foggy seemed to care she didn't mind it.

"Just surveillance. It's on the Italian that the other one ratted out. He's not a major player but he might lead the cops to one. Brett's given me strict instructions to keep my distance and just observe," she explained, grabbing her backpack. She slung it over her shoulders and then put her camera around her neck.

"Okay… good. That sounds not too life threatening. It means I won't lose sleep," he grinned. She flipped him off with a roll of her eyes. He reminded her of her sister a bit, the way he fussed over her. Maybe that's why she liked him so much.

They left the apartment together and when they got outside they would be going opposite ways.

"Alright. Stay safe, make sure you listen to Brett about keeping your distance. If you need help… well just scream, I'm sure Matt will hear you," he chuckled.

"Yes, mom," she smirked. He blanched before pouting at her. Before she had a chance to say anything else, he gave her a quick hug. That was another new thing she had to adjust to. He always left with a hug. They were always brief and she wondered if it was because he knew this was new to her and she needed to adjust. Either way she found she liked it.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he smiled at her. She gave him a mock salute, making him chuckle before she started walking down the street.

Hours went by as she followed Mr Antonio Ricci. He was a big looking dude but he was wearing an expensive looking suit. He'd just been walking through town, visiting shops here and there as he went before closing time. She was following from the other side of the street, her hood pulled up as she discreetly took pictures of every store he went in. She was itching to go in and see just what he was doing. He never came out with anything so he certainly wasn't buying. But she knew she had to keep her distance. She took her job seriously and also her body wasn't 100% yet. She was mostly okay but she didn't feel like getting jumped would be a good idea. Even the thought of it made her stomach clench. She was still dealing with the mental after effects of her last attack.

After a while, he seemed to meet up with a pretty brunette. She was dressed in a gold dress that wrapped around her like it was liquid. She was breathtaking honestly and Daphne made sure to snap some pictures of her not knowing if she was important or not. She ended up following them as they took a stroll. They were laughing and holding hands, stopping every now and again to kiss. It was sickening. They ended up going inside a restaurant and she pouted knowing she couldn't go in. Not only would that mean possibly blowing her cover, but she wouldn't even be allowed in a fancy place like that with how she was dressed. So now she was across the street, lurking in the mouth of an alley as she waited bored for them to come back out. She had no idea when they'd be done.

"You look like you're working hard," she whipped around at the quip, rolling her eyes as Daredevil was perched on the dumpster. He hopped down like a graceful cat before sauntering closer to her.

"Just waiting for my mark to leave," she sighed, sounding as bored as she felt, gesturing with her head to the restaurant across the street. He seemed like he looked over at it despite having no point to.

"What are you doing here anyway?" She asked briskly.

"I was around. Thought I'd check you weren't in danger," he snarked, causing her eyes to narrow to slits.

"Hm.. funny how you keep being 'around'. Anyone would think you're following me," she bit out, turning her back to him to keep an eye out for Antonio.

"Please, you're not that special," he scoffed.

She pursed her lips as she waited but she was getting agitated. It wasn't helped by Daredevil hovering around. She glanced back to him then and grinned as an idea formed in her mind. One that would help her and then she could go home and far away from him.

"Meet me on that roof," she said, not waiting for an answer as she left the alley they were in and jogged across the street. She walked in the alley beside the restaurant and started climbing the fire escape, waiting as Matt made his stealthy way over. Before long, he'd jumped across to the building she was on and made his way over.

"What are we-" he started, irritation in his voice. She shushed him and it only seemed to make him more agitated, his fists clenching as his jaw ticked.

"Sit down," she demanded, sitting on the roof with her legs cross. He just started in her direction for a moment before a low growl left his lips, heavily sitting down in front of her.

"I've got better things to do than play whatever this game is with you," he huffed.

"Maybe pulling that stick out of your ass should be number one on the list," she quipped dryly, shrugging off her backpack.

"Daphne," he warned, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Look, I just need your help for a sec and then you can get back on your white knight bullshit and I can go home. Chill," she huffed. She uncrossed one of her legs as she unzipped her pack and grabbed the pen and pad from inside.

"Fine, what do you want?" He bit out reluctantly. Her lips quirked up before glancing at him.

"We're on the roof of the restaurant. I need you to use your spidey senses, listen in for me," she requested. She could feel his glower through the mask and she smirked slyly.

"Anything in particular?" He asked tensely. He was always tense. Especially when he was in this suit.

"The guy is Antonio. See if you can hone in on him and the girl he's with. Anything about what he's been doing today, about the Italians or even about her. I don't know who she is. Just whatever seems interesting," she said clicking her pen ready. She watched him intently as he tilted his head and she wondered what it was like being him. What it must be like to lose his sight but then have all his others senses heightened to this degree. She didn't know if it would be a blessing or a curse. Possibly both. She was patient, letting him sort through the many people in there until he found what they were looking for.

"Her name is Bianca, they're on a date," he murmured, sounding far away and distracted. She suppressed the urge to throw a 'duh' at him about the date comment and instead scribbled her name.

"He’s… he's being vague but it sounds like he's been collecting money from shop owners. He called it protection money," she jotted down Matt’s words and wondered what that meant. Protection from other gangs or their own.

"There's a meeting. Next Friday night. The Italians and the Chinese are meeting at the Yellow Lilly," he muttered.

"Wow, this guy doesn't know what discrete means," she snorted quietly as she wrote it all down. She’d honestly expected nothing more than the girl's name but Antonio didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. Anyone could be listening in.

She watched Matt as he started to look frustrated before he sighed, his head no longer tilted.

"It's uh… all I got," he sounded annoyed but more so at himself.

"Wow, super senses not what they used to be, huh?" She teased, stuffing her pad and pen back in her bag.

"Yeah well, it's kind of hard to focus with a concussion," he hissed. She blinked at him for a moment as his lips clamped shut, jaw ticking once more. Why did she feel a little bad about that? She hadn't even thought about the possibility of him being injured despite his nightly job. She sucked her lower lip a little before letting it pop back out of her teeth.

"This is fine anyway. More than I thought," she murmured, trying to be somewhat amicable about it. He lowered his head and nodded.

She stood up and he followed suit, a silence hanging between them as it always did when they didn't know what to say. Whenever something presented itself that made them cease fire on their words, it seemed like they didn't know how to act around each other.

"Well… thanks for the help, Devilboy. I'm gonna head home and catch some z's," she said awkwardly as they stood at the edge near the fire escape. A shrill scream in the alley below them caught them both off guard. They glanced over the wall of the roof to see an older woman clinging to her bag as some dude was trying to grab it. She wasn't surprised when Matt climbed his way down and started kicking his ass.

She wished she had popcorn for the show. It was impressive, especially from her vantage point. It didn't take long for Matt to knock out the thug but then the woman grabbed her purse and ran off. It struck her as a little rude and now he wouldn't even be able to call it in to the cops. If she was in the wind there was nothing they could do about the mugging. She watched with complete amusement as Matt picked up the unconscious man and tossed him in the dumpster. She snorted, wishing she would be there when he woke up.

Instead of using the stairs back up, Matt swung and climbed his way up with ease and she partly wondered if he just liked showing off. He was panting a little when he got back to her and leaned back to sit on the small ledge of the roof.

"Well that was rude," she commented amused.

"Really? It's only a dumpster, I didn't peg you as the kind of person who'd be upset by that," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

"Not that. That was fucking hilarious. I'm on about the woman. No thank you, nothing. Just runs off like you didn't save her ass," she mused, glancing to where the woman had ran off.

"Yeah well… it's a thankless job," he shrugged. He didn't sound bothered at all and she wondered if that's how it normally went. He had some patience, except with her it seemed. She’d honestly think of charging people if she was super powered and fighting crime.

"Thanks for the show, it's been fun. I'm gonna head out," she drawled, securing her backpack better before stepping onto the fire escape.

"I'll walk you back," he said instantly. She looked back at him, her face scrunched up slightly.

"I'll be fine. I'm not a damsel, remember? You go save some other poor saps, I don't need a bodyguard," she quipped hotly. His jaw did the tick thing again but he didn't say anything. She was glad he didn't argue or that he didn't follow her as she descended the stairs of the fire escape.

She was pleased with the info she'd gotten, even if Matt had to help her to get it. She refused to acknowledge what Foggy had said about them possibly being a good team. She’d hand over what she knew to Brett and see what he wanted her to do next. She walked home in the darkness feeling satisfied she was back to being herself, unaware of the shadow following her from the rooftops and keeping a watchful eye.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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jonroxton · 4 years ago

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as for clois, the writing choices made little sense to me. why did they wait so long to make them explicitly romantic? i swear they were still writing clana in s8. at times it felt like lois was in love with the blur & not clark & that she really started falling for clark when she realised he was the blur. and that's fine, i don't mind it tbh, but they should have started writing clois in s5-s6 so they can get that aspect out of the way with enough time to write lois being in love with clark

love these. gonna tackle ‘em one at a time.

1. why did they wait so long to make them explicitly romantic?

It seems to have been a combo of things. there were rules set on lois by the superman offices irt what she could do, who she could interact with and even how long they had her for a season. this is why you barely saw her with lex or at the planet in her early years, and why clois doesn’t ever move beyond the bantering subtext stage until like season 6. I remember returns was coming out and the superman offices lifted a few restrictions on how the show could use her, this changed a little when s7 ended and Rosenbaum and Kreuk left and new contracts drawn, but they were more or less constricted in how they could portray clois. always through loopholes basically. the why of this is simply bc the show never wanted to venture too fast into the superman mythos, which is what lois and clois brought them.

s8-s10 got new show runners and less restrictions, but why still the delay? why have lana return and stop all that s8 build up. with hindsight and within the context of the complete show, it’s difficult for me to frame her returning arc as anything but horrific for clark/lana, and though I wished they hadn’t beat that dead horse, what they did holds a lot of nuance and pathos for both characters. the writers seem to have wanted complete closure irt to clark with lana before ever pursuing clois seriously. they were never the greatest writers so the result is lost in translation. some see it as forced on them, but I feel this does the whole arc a disservice, since it’s explicit choices down the line that lead to their separation/break up , bottom line is that clark and lana lie to each other and this time the consequences are irreversible, the pattern of the secrets and lies causing all their strife finally broken. it all seems to move slow or even backwards irt to clois romantically, but the show took clark’s pains over losing lana (again for the billionth time) seriously. going for clois at this point would have indeed been the rebound, the show decided not to and overall is the better for it.

2. this is where the blur comes in

clark is not looking for romance in s8 (neither is lois) and clois is not romantic in that they are in love and together. this has been the running gag since her arrival, with the subtext (if you see it) being that they actually like one another and enjoy each others (biting) company and one day will be married. the fun is in their clashing personalities not being quite who they are destined to be, and we watch it all while clark is passionately in love with his high school sweetheart. this was certainly annoying considering how long it went on, nevertheless, all through both of their romantic entanglements, clark and lois have a strong friendship and camaraderie that works irregardless of whether or not they’re romantically interested (or seen that way). this is the foundation s8 builds on, that they’re good (maybe great) friends and can count on each other. this is actually an anomaly in SV lol, but they’re really the only people the other can depend on completely without fail.

so clark is heart broken yet he’s also for the first time coming into his own. he and lois are in a new environment, more professional, more serious, more superman. the superman/lois/clark triangle and its effectiveness (or lack thereof) has been written about before and by my betters. what I can say as I understand it is: it’s a mistake to differentiate between superman/clark blur/clark as separate people and its not so much that lois falls for one over the other but that she recognizes something in superman that is very much like clark and vice vera and does so at different times. the structure of this narrative is infuriating, but thematically is filled with identity madness. this is always why the triangle ends when lois is conflicted about being in love with both precisely bc they’re so alike. a wider superman running gag is lois lamenting clark and superman are not the same person bc they would be the perfect man.

superman/blur is the powerful, lonely, kryptonian side of clark and sv clark has never had an easy time connecting with this part of himself (he’s actively fought against it). when he’s speaking to lois as the blur, this is not someone clark has seen before, this serious, introspective, entirely giving lois who wants to listen to him. who doesn’t run away from him and fully accepts his powers. and though she doesn’t know it, she’s connecting with a serious, hidden part of clark. I think another important point about how lois sees clark is that she IS impressed with him because he constantly surpasses her expectations, even without the subtext of being interested in each other, lois does have an appreciation for clark as a do-gooder.

3. with the foundation of their friendship and history, this leads to a lot of s8 stories where they have to confront their subtext for the first time (that saw episode where they pretend fake married and forced to go through a test. it’s literally WHATS YOUR SUBTEXT?! sv anvil’s for ya). made all the more complex by exes and secret identities.

4. LAST THING I think is important to consider

lois and clark have seen each other go through terrible breakups and have seen each others heartbreak. the last half of s8 very much plays up that notion of not getting involved to not get hurt. hooking them up early on would’ve meant not getting this very careful characterization where lois and clark work hard and seriously on their relationship to make it work.

5. last last thing: it’s a shame we didn’t see it

I disagree we didn’t see it. s8-s9 was more loophole superman shenanigans but s10 is one glorious clois domestic train!

#mystuff #sayruq #smallville #clois #I answered the second part somewhere in here #since it touched on the superman/blur/clark lois love thing #this was a great ask got to chew on some stuff #the chlark one is gonna take some time bc I haven't really chewed on that in a while or ever really #not outside the context of bloe being horrible lol

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aer-in-wanderland · 4 years ago

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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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