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thenon-fictiondays · 1 year

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Hirano to Kagiura light novel translation 4-1

Chapter 4: Fall.

Part 1

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It might be September by now, but the sun’s rays know no bounds.

Heat from the weather aside, the schoolhouse on the coattails of summer break is permeated with the fervor of the students.

Among all those in the athletic clubs who have undergone away games and training camps, there are many who have deepened both their tans and their virility. The sense of achievement characteristic of those who kept up with their exercise lives within their growth spurts.

Hirano’s roommate is, once again, one of them.

Kagiura, who’s gotten a bit taller, has gotten used to high school, completely devoid of the anxiety he’d seemed to have around the time he’d started school.

Since they’d met up over the summer, he’s become more and more relaxed, and Hirano can’t help but think of him as a beloved younger brother.

Wait, but younger brothers don’t do things like give you earrings, do they?

Hirano isn’t really in a position to judge, with no siblings of his own.

He’d found his original earrings while organizing his luggage after returning from Kagiura’s countryside home. They’d fallen into his school bag and hidden themselves beneath the stiff bottom plate.

What should I do about it? he’d wondered, but figured well, whatever, and didn’t bother switching out his new ones. He’ll keep them in the dorm just in case, but ultimately plans to keep using the ones Kagiura gave him.

As soon as the new term starts, preparations for the Cultural Festival are full speed ahead. Even the first years, who aren’t used to running events without the guidance of a faculty member, are gradually gaining opportunities to build character. The Executive Committee members have so many responsibilities that it has become difficult to carry out their studies without the cooperation of their classmates.

Kagiura also has the situation of being part of the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’, and his grades are not up to snuff. It would be good if they don’t take a hit from his extracurricular responsibilities, but that will come down to his own efforts.

It’s not just the Executive Committee members who are swamped. The students in the culture clubs are also at their busiest, and with the autumn tournament right around the corner, there’s no way the athletics clubs can cut back on practices.

The sweltering nights have yet to abate; yet despite these conditions which could even be called cruel, most of the students are eagerly awaiting the Cultural Festival. You might even get away with saying all of them.

Because, after all, girls come to visit the cultural festival.

And even without that element, a festival is still a festival.

This is a time when the whole student body is restless, so the Disciplinary Committee will be on top of keeping everyone in line—or such is their public stance, but they won’t be too strict about moderating uniforms and hair styles.

In any case, a high proportion of the students will be in costumes on the day of the festival.

There's also at least one class cross-dressing every year.

This year, that’s right, it's the class that Hirano is unfortunately a part of. More specifically, it's been decided that Hirano will be one of the ones in drag.

Oiwa-san—a famous spirit who makes an appearance in the Yotsuya Kaidan.¹

There are many variations of the famous ghost story, in which Oiwa, the deceased wife, holding a grudge over the betrayal of her husband, Iemon, slaughters every last person involved. Apparently, they will be basing the makeup off of Tōkaidō Yotsuya Kaidan², which is popular among Hirano’s classmates.

He’d been shown reference images of the ghost, her face half disfigured and inflamed by poison, but the picture was nightmare fuel when viewed in the dark.

Supposedly it’s a style of Halloween makeup that’s been popular in recent years, but the trial makeup that had been applied to his arm after school in order to match the shade to his face had been truly grotesque.

This information is to be kept top secret until the last possible minute on the day of, in the interests of building hype.

While Hirano is putting away his homework, the door opens with a click.

His roommate is home.

It’s still bright outside, but the dining hall is just about to open for dinner.

“Hirano-san, I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Kagi-kun.”

These days, Kagiura usually gets a bit bashful in reply to Hirano’s greeting, seemingly tickled. So naive and innocent he must be, making such an expression with no fear of being misunderstood.

There were days they’d spent together, but summer vacation had been long.

There’s an air of a different kind of newness from the one there’d been in the period before they’d gotten used to sharing a dorm—Kagiura probably feels it too. At least, Hirano thinks so.

He feels closer to Kagiura compared to before. After all, he’s met his immediate and extended family, so of course they’d feel more intimate. It’s as if the part of himself that had been on guard while thinking about how to act as a senpai in his second year in the dorms has been absolved.

After Hirano had filled out his print-outs as if in competition with Kagiura, who’d spread out his homework in a frenzy, they’d headed to the dining hall a little later than usual.

It always takes him about 3 or 4 days to get back into the swing of dorm life.

Speaking of which, he thinks.

Before Kagiura moved into the dorms, Hirano had been quite nervous.

He’d talked to Hanzawa about it one time when the Disciplinary Committee had a meeting, and they’d brainstormed strategies to avoid scaring Kagiura off.

He’d also felt it would be a waste of his efforts if he was only friendly at the beginning of their time spent living together; thus, they’d come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t be too far out of Hirano’s depths to give him a nickname and use “-kun”.

Oh yeah, that’s right. At the beginning I called him Kagiura-kun.

He’s been calling his name every day, enough that he’d ended up shortening it, thinking it’s too long and clunky.

Kagiura has morning practice tomorrow, too, so there's no way he can let him oversleep.

Hirano got that, but there was something on his mind that just wouldn’t go away, so he asked before shutting off the lights.

".....Hey, um. I know you're working hard, so I don't wanna rain on your parade, but are your studies going all right? I haven't heard how your proficiency test went yet."

As the words leave his mouth, he thinks, what am I, a private tutor? and laughs drily to himself.

For the results of the test held right after summer break, a list ranking every student in their grade and the standard score were passed out to each person, the same as for the periodic exams.

For first years, they can be used as nothing more than a reference, but due to the breadth of the material covered, in some cases they might be used to determine which schools to apply to when compared to results from previous cram schools.

“...I just barely passed.”

“What’s the damage?”

“The teacher said, ‘You didn’t do badly enough that I need to pull you aside, but keep working hard’...”

“I see.”

Which is bad in and of itself, really.

Kagiura hangs his head dejectedly, and Hirano’s tempted to comfort him all the more for having seen the extent of his efforts, but his lack of preparation is unmistakable.

“Kagi-kun, after the cultural festival is over, you gotta step it up. If you miss some of the notes, get someone to show you theirs before the next day. Don’t let them build up. If you end up with a backlog of notes to take, you’re not gonna be able to understand them.”

Hirano knows deep down he’s probably worrying too much, but he keeps the expression on his face stern. The beginning is the key to everything. Among his classmates in the ‘Sports Recommendation Squad’ who, like Kagiura, are bad students, there are many whose grades plummeted after going on to their second year.

Who knew he’d become this much of a worrywort after becoming someone’s senpai?

“Yeah…Hirano-san, will you teach me again?”

“Sure. But you better bring back good grades.”

“I will! …By the way, can I ask you something?”

He ducks his head as he asks the question, a gesture with all the charm one would expect from someone as cute as him.

“What’s up?”

“When you were a first year, did the senpai you roomed with teach you how to study, too?”

“Nah, no way.”

“Hm…did you not get along?”

“It’s not that we didn’t get along, we just weren’t really that close. I wasn’t nearly as friendly a kouhai as you are.”

This is usually the case for dorm students. Hanzawa, contemptuous of homosexual relations, has a reputation in certain circles for having a finely-tuned gaydar and showing up to cockblock any time he senses anyone getting a little too close.³

His distaste isn’t unwarranted; apparently it has to do with his family, so even Hirano feels bad for him.

“...Does that make me special, then?”

“Why are you so happy about that?”

At Hirano’s jests of what are you, a dog? Kagiura breaks into a grin.

“Yeah. You know, I’m glad I’m your roommate, Hirano-san.”

Hirano smiles wryly; Kagiura’s got him wrapped around his little finger without a hint of insincerity.

With Kagiura cozying up to him like this, he doesn’t stand a chance.

*****

T/N: (1) Not sure I need to add more info on this to the story, but it's pretty interesting, so you can read more about it here.

(2) A movie based on the story made in 1959.

(3) Yall....idek what to say about this. I tried to keep the tone lighthearted but the original text literally says 'gay-hating Hanzawa' and describes his feelings as disgust. Idk why the writer put this but our boy is NOT like that 😭 I actually broke my vow of not looking at the official TL just to see how they handled this bit and they completely watered it down lmao. and tbh, yall know my dedication to accuracy but I WAS TEMPTED. While going back and forth about what I should do, I told my sister about it, and she suggested that Hanzawa doesn't actually hate gays, he just hates gay sex and will stand for none of it in his dorm so...we're going with that interpretation 💀🙃💀🙃

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Special shoutout to @jeizet, @jujupanic, @massyworld, @umbreonwolfy, and @acidsuzanne-blog for sponsoring these updates 🙌

#you guys can reblog these posts btw <3 #remember likes are great but they don't do anything to spread the posts around!#friendly reminder that tumblr is not ig/tt and we love her for it <3 #re 3rd footnote: im still trying to cope #im really hoping that the 'homophobic' and 'disgust' etc are referring to his reputation rather than his real feelings #tho i'm not sure that's much better 💀#also im sorry but wtf is up with the whole 'its to do with his family so hirano feels bad for him thing'#like??? oh poor you your sibling is gay that must be such a struggle #guess you have the right to hate gay people. ??????#this makes it sound like there was some TRAUMA involved #but it was literally just his brother (and other sibling) saying btw im gay and then they all moved on with their lives??#shoutout to my sister for this slightly inaccurate but much better take #i told her about it and she was like 'nah this mf just repressed as hell 💀'#she does not read ssmy/kghr btw #hirano to kagiura #hirano and kagiura #kagihira #hirano to kagiura light novel #hirano to kagiura translation #harusono shou

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danieyells · 3 days

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I propose this idea: both Ritsu and Yuri make the mc do domestic/motherly things but for different reasons. Ritsu wants to see how his crush would be if they had children (he will need an heir to the legacy in some years!) (and to a certain point he wants to be cared for like when he was younger but it isn't his first reason shhh) on the other hand Yuri is stepping the line between wanting a mom and wanting to be babied and fed his favorite food and wanting a girlfriend and dealing with his romantic feelings like an adult (plus when jiro joins the mothering and mothered dynamic he acts like a child getting a sibling he didn't want for a little bit)

lmaooo i love that.

Ritsu frames it as little assistant work at first--he pays them for it, unlike everyone else who asks for their help cleaning their office and organizing things, so they're a little happier to do it. They've been working for Jin and Romeo so their cleaning skills are very good. Perhaps a little too good. They haven't been cleaning up crimes, have they?

Then he offhandedly asks if they know how to cook. They admit they haven't really cooked since they got to DW and mostly ate at the cafeteria or ate things others cooked for them or ate out. Ritsu chides them for their lack of self-sufficiency and reminds them they can use the kitchens at DW. He wanted to investigate something for a client, so it would be a good opportunity to try out cooking. You want to make sure you know where your nutrition is coming from! Their cooking is satisfactory, but it's definitely not a mother's level yet. They have time to improve. They don't really understand why he's being so critical about it, but they apologize anyway, wondering if maybe Sho or one of Jin's cooks could teach them a thing or two. It would be nice to be able to make food for their friends.

Then he asks about their work at Jabberwock, dealing with anomalous animals. They admit it's tough, but some of them are nice! They mention taking care of some of the younger animals after making sure the parents knew they meant no harm. So far nothing more than minor injuries! He nods in approval as they explain bottle feeding Peekaboo, and how cute it is when it's enjoying its food. Haru said they're a natural--Peekaboo didn't even throw up or bite them when they fed it for the first time! The younger anomalous animals seem to like them a lot!

Ritsu can't help but smile at that they seem to take well to caring for children. That's the most important thing. In the three years his firstborn son will have before he becomes a slave to the judicial system, he wants him to be loved and cared for by someone who will be able to give him the kind of love his mother gave him.

(Of course he would never force them to have a child. That would be against some law I'm sure, I'm not exactly up to date with the Japanese Penal Code. However, he wouldn't stay with them if they couldn't have children--he needs to have an heir, it's expected of him, so even if he wouldn't be happy with the result he would have to find someone else.)

(In the meantime though, he might indulge a little in being offered to try food as it gets closer and closer to tasting like what a mother's cooking should taste like. Even if he refuses, he still feels something like motherly love when they worry over him seeming to 'work too hard'. Being shown things he's not familiar with feels like motherly love, because he spent so much time with his mother seeing the wonders of the world. Perhaps the things they show him aren't as glamorous, but they still give a similar feeling of sharing a world outside of his own.)

Yuri, in stark contrast, is just a spoiled child about it sometimes. Although he tries not to be overt about it.

He finally decides he can go to sleep now after staying up like a week and a half researching, so "Come here. Your heartrate and breathing patterns are optimal for helping me sleep more quickly, so lie down with me for a little while. It--it's just so I can sleep and wake more efficiently! Do not question my methods, worm!" and then they have a grown ass man curled up against their chest(arms around their waist, it's not entirely childish--) and they aren't allowed to move until he's had his nap. He may or may not want a lullaby or bedtime story, but counting their heartrate is enough.

They decide to bring Jiro and Yuri something to eat and Yuri pouts and huffs over it not being their cooking. He still eats it though, because he's happy they brought him food. It's still a motherly gesture. Why'd they bring some for Jiro too though Jiro can't even eat solids what do you mean you had to make Jiro's nutrition shake yourself why didn't they hand make his food he is their--significant other! . . .Yes, Jiro is also their significant other, but that is besides the point!

(Jiro is quietly enjoying his meal in his shaker bottle. They're reminded of a child with a sippy cup with Yuri huffing next to him. He does not want to share his mama.)

Yes he is a mature adult but he's not good at addressing his feelings at all. When he does he does it awkwardly and accidentally, through freuden slips and things he wanted to keep to himself until he didn't feel like he was too busy for such concerns. N-not that he cares if they think it's strange he wants to call them 'mama' while clearly maintaining romantic (and professionally possessive) feelings! He's not worried about them finding this offputting at all!!! He knows they're honored to be his partner and. . .occasional source of maternal comforts and outlet regrets! Anyway he's going to hold their hand everywhere they go--because he is leading them where they need to go like a good researcher does, not because it fulfills his romantic and juvenile needs--

When he succeeds at something he wants to show them so they smile and tell him what a good job he is and how proud they are and how impressive he is. . .like his mother used to. Not that it's entirely that--of course he wants to impress his partner too, but. . .the projection is embarrassing, but comforting.

#ritsu shinjo #yuri isami #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells with anons #danie yells answers #every day we get closer and closer to giving yuri an age regression thing and i need to reel it in lmaooooo #I PROMISE THE THING THAT APPEALS TO ME MOST ABOUT YURI IS THAT HE IS AN INETHICAL DOCTOR AND EXPERIMENTS ON PEOPLE #BUT ALSO THE WHOLE 'MAMA' THING SEEMS CUTE THE WAY WE'VE BUILT ASSUMPTIONS AROUND IT #i'm really looking forward to whatever is actually going on with it in canon like. what happened to this man's mother. is she gonna be okay #what exactly is causing him to relate the pc to her. is she also cursed is she also dying did she die to the same curse or something #is yuri actually super old and his mom died the day the pc was born and he thinks she's reincarnated into them #because he reads too many isekai light novels

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dazais-guardian-angel · 3 months

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seeing new appreciation for Dark Era because of the anime rewatch makes me so happy..... could we have a light novel reread series next so that everyone can read Dark Era? 🥹

#bungou stray dogs #out here shilling the DE novel whenever I can to get as many people as possible to read it 🥲 pls read it guys it's so worth it #it will rui- change your life #the anime adaptation is beautiful and the best work Bones has ever done for bsd #but it still can't hold a candle to the novel #so much of Oda's character and the true heartbreak and poignancy of his and Dazai's relationship is only found by reading it #not to mention a better understanding of Ango; Dazai and Aku's relationship; etc #everyone knows Stormbringer and Beast but i feel like Dark Era is one of the most unread light novels #(along with Entrance Exam... *sigh* and 55 Minutes)#I made a visual novel out of Dark Era using anime screenshots and the ost.... would people find it more appealing to read in that format??#I keep waffling about making it public cause idk who would even care lol #but maybe i should just post it one day and see what happens...... i'm proud of it but no one has played it but the friend i made it for #i'd be happy if sharing it got more people to read Dark Era #anyone who's even reading these tags lmao: would you play a visual novel of Dark Era???

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zukkaoru · 1 year

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This guy spends half his time here. He orders a drink but doesn’t touch it, just stares at it solemnly

EXACTLY thank you oda. dazai doesn't actually like alcohol, he just desperately wants to

#'but alcohol is listed in his likes on the wiki!!' and chuuya is listed in his dislikes. your point?#when has this man EVER told the truth #he occasionally likes the effects of alcohol but overall he doesn't actually like it. i'm right #grace reads bsd #dark era light novel time. wish me luck

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starswallowingsea · 3 months

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i watched 10 episodes of high card today. having a normal one

#vijay deserved his own episode im sorryyyyyy chris baby i love you but please step aside #for one episode and give vijay some screen time #apparently he doesnt get an ep in s2 either like come onnnnnnnn you have content for him apparently in one of the light novels #surely if wendy and leo can get their own episodes we can get a vijay ep too.#i'm pissed about that but otherwise i really enjoyed it but hmm.#not sure how i feel about them just. going back to pinochle/high card at the end #bc like. they were not about to save chris and his sister or finn or anyone else #like the car sales crew? they're sticking together no matter what i can see the 5 of them #6 if you count gramps sticking together they very clearly prioritize each other over the company #sighs. whatever. i'll try and find the light novels or smth and read those #shay speaks

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moonlit-tulip · 1 year

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One inconvenient side effect of my state of being somewhat allergic to most fan-translated light novels (for "the prose tends to be Deeply Awkward, probably because all the translators who reach the level of doing Actual Good Prose get scooped up by the official translation-licensing companies?" reasons) is that it makes it difficult and vaguely nerve-wracking to interact with the Monogatari fandom.

Because, like... there are two whole seasons of the series which exist only in fan-translation, not in official translation! And the fandom has, very reasonably, gone and, like, read the books comprising those seasons. But I haven't, and don't expect that to change for a pretty long time! And thus, despite being a big fan of the series, I can't really safely interact with the fandom, for fear of spoilers.

Eventually, this will be fixed one way or another, either by the remaining novels getting official translations (...after the manga translations finish? I hope? Although my hope is somewhat weaker than it would have been a few years ago, given the context where the Zaregoto and Pretty Boy Detective Club translations both seem to have stopped too despite not involving the same translators) or by my learning enough Japanese to read the remaining books in the original or by my figuring out some way to increase my tolerance for light novel fan-translations.

Hopefully one of these will happen before I run into Major Spoilers, rather than only after.

#Archive #Monogatari #The Evils Of Taste #i'm much more allergic to fan-translated light novels than to fan-translated anime/manga/visual novels/etc.#i'm not 100% certain about why but i suspect it's about... those all have visual components and 2/3 also have audio for good measure?#so weakness-of-prose ends up being much less conspicuous? the prose is much less of a primary lens through which i view them?#something to that effect #(this is especially interesting because... sometimes fan-translated japanese prose *genuinely impresses* me?)#(nasu kinoko's prose as presented through his various visual novels' fan-translations is among my favorite prose i've encountered anywhere)#((far moreso than as presented through the mahoyo official translation in fact))#(i plan to incorporate its influence into my own prose in a pretty big way as i learn to get better at prose-writing myself)#(and yet i'm not sure it would have worked for me at all if i'd been reading it in pure text rather than in vn-format!)#(maybe it would? maybe vn fan-translators just have a higher skill-ceiling before getting scooped up for paid work?)#(but i don't actually *expect* so)#(so overall i haven't really untangled what's going on exactly with my issues here)

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marcsnuffy · 1 year

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I've always said that Nagi and Reo aren't even in my top 5 favorite characters but it's a complete lie

#I find them so interesting #separately and as a duo #sometimes I remember that Nagi was completely lonely and only spoke to a cactus he bought to have something to talk to #and that Reo wants to win the World Cup because it's something so out of reach and this interest of his is the first one that his parents #don't support him with #and Reo's parents aren't completely evil #they think they're doing what's best for him and they think this too will pass like every other thing he's been into #and Nagi's parents. God.#They sure are completely absolutely evil /j #I'm going to read their light novels at some point I need Nagi & Reo substance #txt #reonagi

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dutybcrne · 7 months

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@dcndrohime replied to your post:

When that mad sus tag line is just an Heizou vibe 🤔

He like a bit Heizou in flirty vibes. Honestly, i think he sus cuz he's cleary hidin smth

#//I should prolly read the manga and light novel; tbh #//I'm almost through with ep7; but I am Intrigued by the second hairpin he has #//What does this MEAN #//Unless it was already stated and I am dumb asf lololol #☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Notably tho; Heizou's flirts don't make my fucken skin crawl like some of Jinshi's jdnkjgg #//Heizou has swag and charm #//Some of Jinshi's just ick me out. Some are good; yeah. Then some moments...not so much #//And that's sayin' smth comin' from me #//But yeah; Jinshi had his certain charm and was funny; is why I liked him #//Him tricking Maomao was great lol #//But I liked that he's clearly got smth up #//Reminded me a bit of Kae in early game; in those regards #//With his story quest and everything jsdbggh #//Is how I managed to keep up a liking for he #//Except now I found a new boi xjkfgh #//He better not blow this for me lol

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yeonban · 8 months

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This hurts me so badly because 1) it's one of the VERY. and I mean VERY few times Dazai AND Ango are both entirely honest and openly vulnerable about their respective lives (and aprox the only time it happens with each other), and 2) this was Ango and Odasaku's last ever meeting. The last words Ango ever heard from him were "Don't say any more, Ango. Just don't." in response to his question about remaining friends, before later finding out that Odasaku died

#muse: sakaguchi ango.#(staring at Ango and patting his shoulder as one of my oldest muses ever)#BSD is so beautifully written that I'm still nowhere near over this light novel despite having read it for the first time 7 years ago #like IDK!! the tragedy in buraiha's stories and the way said stories intertwine in this very specific way just gets me #And G O D that one quote from the aftermath always rings out in my head... ''Frozen in time were the smiles of those three men.''

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monstersqueen · 1 year

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Each one of these great achievements came to fruition only because of the new boss Dazai’s extraordinary talents. Rumor had it he hadn’t even slept a day ever since taking over from Mori four years ago.

he probably hasn't

#myposts #;_; i'm reading this for atsushi and akutagawa i am NOT thinking about dazai #and i am trying to simply enjoy odasaku's presence without thinking too deep on it #and then ! the narration is all about hwo awe-inspiring in a terror way dazai is #and i'm like 'oh no i am so sad'#the wall that can become a window that oversees yokohama #has been black for four years since dazai took over #does he spend his days like that never seeing the light ????#is it supposed to mean that while mori looked over yokohama maybe protecting but more or less considering it as /his/#dazai's motivations lay elsewhere and he doesn't care about yokohama #or being the port mafia's boss #he's got one objective and one objective only and for it he's dedicating his entire life #fuck. step 1 : no thinking about beast!dazai #step 1 failed :((((#bsd march 2023 not lb #bsd beast novel

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leatherbookmark · 2 years

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sitting and thinking (in the context of my fic but also in general) about the things about jgy that lxc doesn’t know, but specifically those that wwx KNOWS but won’t tell him. because that would make him soft, and we don’t want that

#like this is so infuriating #in the novel... there literally is no last scar on wwx's forearm. there's no Imperative forcing him to solve the mystery Lest He Dies #and yet. and yet. the way lxc's reluctance to hop on the detective xianlock weimes train is almost framed as this... irritating obtuseness #and like i KNOW jgy did those things that lxc didn't want to believe he did. but wwx's approach is so impersonal sometimes #it Is just a mystery and uncovering it is fun for him. and i guess in a mystery novel it's also exciting for the detective to find all the #clues and exclaim that it was the butler that did it! but ignoring the circumstances that led the butler to do it to em is just Mean Okay #especially since we're holding in our hands a How Wei Wuxian Did It To Em: The Novel #that's the way it starts: wei wuxian the murderous yiling laozu! thank god he's dead! and then we find out that he wasn't an one-dimensional #villain! but while wwx can sort of say SAME HAT about the way jgy becomes the scapegoat in the span of like one day... as many people #before me said they have exactly zero feelings about each other. Nothing. and it's not a bad thing! it's interesting and ironic and makes #you lie down and go AAAAAA WHAT IF...!!!#but going back to lxc. he seems to know that jgy killed his father and that qin su was his sister but he wasn't at the lotus pier when the #cultivators talked about it and theorized about What Else he Definitely Did #wwx didn't tell him a thing about the brothel or meng shi's body. and i'm just very horizontal about it. i need to lie the fuck down #i still after 84 years have Not read the extras but like. is lxc sitting out there? wasting away? Uninformed? PROBABLY HE IS YEAH #because it's not like wwx cares particularly and at this point i think lwj would mentally spit if not piss on jgy's grave for hurting lxc #so they have zero business telling him stuff that might frame jgy in another more nuanced light. but also even if they did. then what?#hey this guy you were tricked into killing because you thought he didn't do murders but he did and it flipped your view of him upside down #so much that you believed that he genuinely would attack you? yeah about that we think he might have just wanted to get his mother's body #back. yeah from this temple where he essentially deified her. the temple he built where the brothel was. yeah they were treated horribly #out there and like i guess jgy wanted to make sure his mom would never have to suffer like that again or something. anyway thats all yea bye #i'm sad.#shut up shrimp

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luveline · 7 months

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𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧

remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses).

requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.”

Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.”

Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you.

He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat.

“What time is it?” you ask.

You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?”

“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.

“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.

You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.

Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds.

He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.

You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic.

You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him.

You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling.

He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him.

His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed.

You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips.

“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.”

“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.”

He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one.

You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.”

“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.”

“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.”

“Can you sit up, at least?”

“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?”

“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard.

You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Was that a dracula impression?”

“I command you.”

You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out.

And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.”

“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him.

Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?”

“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.”

“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.”

“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…”

Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity.

“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.”

“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.”

“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.”

“But for how long?” you ask.

Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to.

You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms.

“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?

“Do you want to start now?”

You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.”

“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.”

You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now.

You shut your eyes.

He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums.

A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?”

Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say.

“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life.

It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along.

“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath.

Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.”

“Do you want to?”

And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too.

“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–”

“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.”

Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?”

“Remus–”

“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.”

“So you like me?”

“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

“Oh,” you say, lifting your head.

Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth.

“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.

“You first.”

Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo.

“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder.

“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess.

Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.”

“After that?”

“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely.

You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed.

—

Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud.

Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid.

He flinches.

You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but.

I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you?

What are the rules here?

Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay.

He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep.

He should let you sleep.

“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm.

“Mm?” you hum.

“I need to ask you something.”

You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do.

“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.”

“I just need to ask you something.”

“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness.

The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you.

He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him.

“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple.

“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.”

Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense.

The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?”

Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek.

“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate.

“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.”

“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says.

“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.”

“Please don't!” you say.

You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways.

Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.

“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say.

“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight.

Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it.

“I'm chucking them out!”

“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?”

“What?!”

You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?”

Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm.

“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”

“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.”

“James,” you say softly, all sympathy.

Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company.

“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.”

Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him.

A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off.

Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease.

There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D <3

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