I don’t know if I hallucinated this, but I swear I saw somewhere that the KPDH creators once thought about making honmoon weapons show up in the human world as normal objects. I get why they dropped the idea, but it’s honestly too cute not to play with.
[Beware: shocking amount of fluff AND angst below the cut. The first picture is worth >1500 words.]
Rumi had mixed feelings about bathtime.
She didn't like that bathtime meant it was almost bedtime, which meant no more coloring, or playing with her little zoo of stuffed animals, or scampering around the vegetable garden with a stick in each hand, in search of "demon" bugs to whack away from the cabbages. No more adventures until tomorrow.
She liked that at bathtime, she got to play with her wind-up sea turtle that paddled itself around the tub with a plishplishplashplishplash for ten seconds before she had to twist its tail to wind it up again. She also got to play with her yellow rubber duck, which if she squeezed it above the tub then held it underwater, spat a stream of water from its bill when she squished it again. Sometimes the duck "decided" to be mischievous, and squirted water at Rumi's guardian as she washed her hair. Celine would always GASP in exaggerated shock and poke at Rumi's button nose and cheeks, scolding "Naughty duck, naughty duck!" in a singsongy voice that made Rumi squeal with delight.
Rumi really liked when Celine washed her hair. She liked the fresh, minty smell of the 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner and how it felt soft and pillowy as Celine massaged it into her scalp. Her fingertips moved in spirals all over Rumi's head, so soothing that it always made her yawn (even though she was DEFINITELY not sleepy yet, thank you very much!). She didn't like getting the sudsy lather on her face, so Celine was careful to place a protective hand on her forehead, like the brim of a hat, shielding her from the cups of warm water she poured over her head to rinse out the shampoo.
Rumi hated when she finally had to stand up and leave the safety of the steamy bathwater, because the air always - always - felt freezing cold, like teeny-tiny needles pricking at her exposed skin. She instinctively crossed her arms and tensed up, as if she could shrink away from the chill.
Luckily, she never had to endure it for more than a few seconds before Celine rescued her. Her guardian wrapped warm hands around her back, lifting her from her armpits —"Up up up!" Rumi said, to which Celine replied, "Up she flies!"—and gently set her down on the bath mat. Before she could so much as shiver, the fluffiest towel they owned had been dropped over her head, covering her face.
She screeched at the sudden darkness. "Eeek! Ceee-Ceeee!"
"Where is little Rumi-ya?" Her guardian's voice sounded muffled as she used the towel's corners to wipe off Rumi's feet.
Rumi wiggled her toes to assist. "Can't find me!"
She felt Celine's hands on the outside of the towel, moving rapidly up and down her arms and back to dry her off quickly. "Is that her voice I hear?"
"Not me!" Rumi exclaimed. She tried again, this time disguising her voice by adopting an impossibly high, squeaky pitch. "I'm not Rumi, I'm a mousey!"
Her guardian laughed aloud, the sound so lively and buoyant Rumi couldn't stop herself from giggling too. "I don't know, Mousey, I'm pretty good at finding things," she said, feeling around Rumi's fabric-covered head. "Hmmm...those aren't mouse ears, those are little girl ears! Why does Mousey have little girl ears?"
"I don't knoooow!" she squeaked again.
"And where is your mouse tail?"
"I don't have a tail!"
"I think Rumi-ya is hiding under there with you, Mousey," Celine concluded. "You know, Rumi used to have a tail like a mouse, but it fell off right after she was born."
"WHAT?!" Rumi shifted the towel and stuck her face out. "That's not true! I never had a tail!"
"There's little Rumi-ya!" Her guardian laughed again at Rumi's indignant expression. "No, little girls don't have tails. Let's get you bundled up."
Her pout immediately changed into an eager grin and she hopped in place. "Bundled up!"
Celine nodded and began to wrap the towel more tightly around the little girl's body, almost as tight as when she'd swaddle her as an infant. Rumi loved this part, after bathtime, because she got to feel so cozy and warm and safe.
She also loved it because—
"Bundling the baby, the baby, the baby, bundling the baby so she doesn't get a cold!" Celine sang cheerfully as she scooped Rumi up and cradled her in her arms. "Wee oo, wee-ee, wee deedle-de dum dee-dee..."
Her guardian's voice was clear and steady and bright and warm and the sound transfigured into strands of living light and it wound around them before Rumi's eyes and it wrapped around her heart like a hug and she wanted to hug back with all the strength she had in her pint-sized body.
She chimed in when Celine repeated the tune. "Bundling the baby, the baby, the baby, bundling the baby so she doesn't get a cold!"
The strands of sound-light-song (CeCe called it the "ha-moon?" "hom-noon?") brightened and danced in mid-air and Rumi wasn't sure how but she felt that it was giggling and playing alongside her as she raised her bouncy child-voice.
They had sung all the way back to their bedroom when she looked up at Celine. She was doing something strange with her face while she sang: blinking a lot, looking around like her eyes couldn't decide where to land, not-quite-smiling. But when she looked down and saw Rumi studying her, she smiled again. "Pajama time," she said, setting Rumi down. The song-light threads began to fade from the air.
Rumi successfully put her pajamas on...almost all by herself. That made her remember something.
"CeCe?"
"Yes, Rumi?" She glanced up from fastening the buttons of the girl's nightshirt.
"I'm not a baby," she said.
Her guardian finished with the buttons. The corners of her mouth quirked up a little as she looked up. "Oh? What do you mean?"
"'Cause I'm three now," she said gravely. "I'm not a baby - I'm a kid."
"You are three. Three whole years..." Something odd was happening with her face again. She cleared her throat and smiled. "Three years of little Rumi-ya, not so little anymore."
Rumi nodded, pleased to be understood.
"We don't have to stop singing the song now that you're three. You can still be somebody's baby, even if you're not a little baby." She patted Rumi's tiny mattress, and the girl clambered up. "And I certainly don't want you catching a cold."
"Oh-kaaay," Rumi said, sighing contentedly as she pulled the blankets up to her chin, a stuffed bear clutched under her arm. Celine tucked her in, then sat cross-legged on the floor next to her as she always did at bedtime.
"Am I your baby?" She yawned through the question.
When Rumi opened her eyes, her guardian was making a weird face again. Frowning...but not? Her jaw clenched, her eyes grew wide. Her mouth twitched, opening and closing slightly.
"Well...You're my..." Celine pursed her lips and bowed her head towards the floor. She inhaled deeply. She exhaled slowly. Absently, she twisted a ring on her right hand.
She sounds like that when she gets hurt sometimes. Rumi didn't understand what was wrong. Doesn't she know? If I'm not CeCe's baby, then whose? She looked down at her bear, squeezing it tight to her body as her lip started to quiver.
Do I not belong to anyone?
"Rumi?"
She glanced back up at Celine, sniffling. This time, her guardian wore an expression Rumi knew well: worry. But when Rumi met her eyes - much shinier than normal - the worry lessened, and a sad smile forced its way onto her face. Can a smile be sad?
Why did it make her feel like crying?
"Do I..." Her lip wobbled pitifully. "Am I not anybody's baby?"
Celine's eyes widened. "Oh, no, Rumi-ya, that's not—" She folded back the covers and pulled the little girl into her arms just as she started to cry. "Shh, I've got you..."
"Why—" She hiccupped. "W-why can't I b-be your baby?"
"I'm sorry, Rumi, that's not what I meant," her guardian said. "It's just...complicated."
"But why?"
She felt Celine kiss the crown of her head. "I'm sorry, Rumi," she repeated. "Most kids...they're their mom and dad's babies. You were your mother's baby at first, when you were born."
"Your friend?" Rumi pressed her cheek to Celine's chest. Her shirt was damp with tears. "You said she isn't here anymore."
"Yes, your mother, the person who made you. She...she died, which is why she isn't here anymore to look after you."
"I'm not her baby," Rumi said, still not sure she understood.
"No, you are, it's just—"
"But she's n-not—" she hiccupped again, "she's not here!"
"She loved you so much, Rumi. She wanted to take care of you, and it was very..." Celine took a deep, shuddering breath. "It was very sad that she couldn't. But she knew you needed someone, so she asked me to care for you."
Rumi whimpered.
"Rumi-ya, please look at me."
She whimpered again, but sat up to look at her guardian.
"There's my Rumi-ya," she said softly, tracing her thumb along the girl's cheek. It was nice. Soothing.
"Rumi, you are—" her voice was scratchy, and she cleared her throat. She pressed her forehead to Rumi's, so close that Rumi could see the faint scar under her eye.
Why is she crying? Is she sad, too?
"Rumi-ya," she tried again, but her voice broke on the last syllable. She swallowed. "Rumi-ya, you are my baby."
Oh. Rumi hiccupped. "I am?"
She nodded. "Yes, Rumi-ya. You didn't start out as my baby, but you are my baby now." She wiped a stray tear away from Rumi's cheek. "You are my baby. I love you and I will always take care of you. Always."
Celine's eyes glistened, as dark and deep and certain as the night sky that guarded their sleep, and Rumi felt safe again.
Always.
"Oh," Rumi said, voice trembling. "Okay." She hugged her guardian around the neck. "I'm your baby."
"You are," she whispered back, squeezing Rumi around the middle.
I'm your baby.
"CeCe?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"
She chuckled. "Of course, sweet girl." There was no need to ask - Rumi ended up snuggled against her guardian's side most nights. She picked the girl up, turning around to set her on the grown-up-sized bed only a few feet away. Celine retrieved the stuffed bear as Rumi started to burrow under the covers.
"What lullaby would you like me to sing tonight?" she asked, handing Rumi the bear.
Rumi squeezed it gratefully. "Can you sing 'hunters?'"
"Yes, I can." She finished lighting the little candle she kept on the bedside table, switched off the lamp, then sat down next to Rumi on the bed. She took a shaky breath.
"We are hunters, voices strong..."
The song-light threads pulsed into being again, and Celine's voice wrapped around Rumi's heart like a hug.
A/N: Truthfully, this a piece of a long-since-scrapped longfic. But it's been reformatted a bit.
Being that you had only just joined on as the Saja Boys' manager, it would only make sense that you learned more about their goals prior to making any moves. You met them in their apartment, though few of them seemed to recognize you at all.
"So, what are your goals as a group?" You asked them.
"We wanna have all the fans," Abby grinned, leaning back on the couch and extending his arms out across the back.
You felt yourself falter. "So...you don't care at all about the music? Or the art?"
"Whatever the fans want us to care about, we care about." Romance purred in a tone that almost sounded sincere to the untrained.
You couldn't help the disappointment. You just would have thought that the Saja Boys would have been more passionate about their work. But they were passionate about something! It was just...popularity.
You swallowed down your disappointment and smiled. "Well, you're already on a good path. I did notice how you're using a lot of second-person pronouns."
The boys stared blankly.
You chose your words more carefully. "You refer to the listener directly?"
The boys stared blankly.
You sighed in exasperation. "You use the word 'you' a lot."
The boys finally understood what you meant and nodded, proud smiles forming on their faces. Rather than the heartthrobs you knew them as, they looked almost like puppies.
You nodded, leaning forward. "It's a good start, but if I've learned something, your songs have to be about something for people to really connect."
Abby smirked and rolled his eyes. "Not with K-Pop, babe. Trust me, we know how to get the ladies."
Mystery's lips finally parted from the straw of his drink as he uttered, "And the gents, Abby. Remember? We have to be awake."
"It's called woke," scoffed Abby. "And I'm more woke than you, because you forgot to include the non-binaries!"
Mystery stared at Abby blankly before muttering a soft, "Dammit."
Abby grinned like a cheshire cat, leaning over to tousle Mystery's long purple hair. "Yeah, who's bigoted now, fool?!"
You just stared in a stunned silence, watching this all transpire. It was clear that these boys were doing all the right things, but they didn't know why they were doing it. They lacked purpose.
"Well, if you want to beat HUNTR/X..." You mumbled. At least, before you realized that everyone was now giving their undivided attention to you.
"And what makes you think that we want to beat HUNTR/X?" Jinu asked plainly, his gaze sharpening.
You placed your pencil down on the notebook's surface. "Maybe it was the guest appearance on the game show, or maybe it was the guest appearance at their signing, or..."
Abby sighed, resting his arms along the back of the couch, to which the other Saja Boys reluctantly accepted. "Fine. But our rivalry with HUNTR/X is something that you won't understand."
You shrugged. "What's not to understand? They're topping the charts. You want to be at the top, too. It's simple."
Jinu hesitated before giving a small nod. He was the only one who seemed to be focused on your advice. "Yes... That's exactly why."
Your hand moved on its own, drawing out a plan on your notebook. One circle representing HUNTR/X, propelling upwards. "People connect with HUNTR/X because their songs are inspired by their experiences. Their goals. Their songs are about something."
"But 'Soda Pop' was about something, too!" Baby pouted.
"Mm, but it's pretty basic." Romance said, leaning over to talk to Baby.
"But you said you wanted basic! So it's relatable to everyone!"
You quickly cut in. "Boys, trust me. If you relate to everyone, you relate to no one. Nobody will remember generic. And you want to be remembered."
"So, you're saying our song is bad?" Baby asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not saying 'Soda Pop' is bad. It's actually a really good point to jump off of."
"But our entire discography can't be 'Soda Pop'," finished Jinu. "It's just not sustainable."
The boys all seemed to look at each other, as if asking the other for his approval. It seemed they worked as a unit and a unit only. They wouldn't make a move unless they were sure, and you couldn't help but admire that. But they all looked at Baby by the end of it.
Romance glanced down at a huffy Baby with some sort of concern. "Well, it's up to our songwriter."
At the insecurity in Baby's expression, you felt yourself soften. He almost looked afraid behind all the grumpiness. The anger didn't reach his eyes.
"Baby...you wrote 'Soda Pop'?" You asked cautiously.
Baby huffed, his voice mocking you. "Yeah. And I already know it sucks to you and your awake sensibilities."
"No, no, I think it's great."
"See? Told you. It's-" began Baby before he seemed to really process what you said. He hesitated. "It's...great?"
"Yeah. It must take a lot of effort to write something that everyone can relate to," you offered.
Baby scoffed, but it had lost its' edge. "Yeah. Had to keep stopping myself from describing looks."
You nodded. "You're so talented. Wouldn't it be fun to write something without having to care about other people? Wouldn't it be fun to write something for you?"
Baby seemed to light up at the idea, his golden eyes twinkling. "As in...I could write whatever I wanted? And people would like it?"
You nodded.
"And I don't have to be all cutesy about it?!"
"I really wanna see what you can do, Baby."
"YES!" Baby exclaimed, standing up with his arms in the air. "I'm gonna write the sexiest song ever! Thanks, whatever your name is!"
Baby ran off, grabbing your notebook from your hands on the way out before you could correct him on your name.
Prompts: The Saja Boys having feelings for their housekeeper/home assistant?
Pronouns: They/Them
"Next one!"
"Okay. As much as Babysspicybottle love your dance moves they think you all should touch your hair a little less and… your crotch a little more." Y/N sighed, surrounded by five saja boys, sandwiched between two and Abby sat between their legs.
The group couldn't get a handle on social media and modern technology, so they say. They suspected at least two were capable. Not Abby though; he couldn't even manage to keep his shirt closed. But it seemed like each member just wanted the opportunity to see how much they could tease their housekeeper.
"I'll touch my crotch if you ask me, Y/N." Baby manspread even further in the armchair across from them.
"Uh huh." They scroll past a few too sexual comments, not wanting to add to the awkwardness they felt. "Mysteryssecretforehead wants to give you a haircut, Mystery."
He let out an indignant huff and flipped his fringe but said nothing.
"Basically your concert was either amazing or too much for their ovaries to handle," They dropped the phone onto their lap. "Can we do something else now?"
Romance spread himself across the remaining space and as close as possible, resting his chin on his arms. "Yes! Now tell me, Y/N, did my voice make you weak in the knees as yours does to me? Make you shiver with delight? Give you a quiver in your—"
"Well I better get that laundry done! You sure do sweat a lot!" They bashed their shin on the coffee table as they hopped over a couple legs to escape.
Baby stared at Romance. "You scared them off again."
"How dare you!"
♤♡◇♧
The laundry really did need washing. The five Saja Boys change outfits at least twice a day… probably more. And were always covered in glitter and perfume from their near constant events.
As they shoveled Baby's clothes off the carpet, Abby leant against the doorframe in just a towel.
"Y/N I appear to have forgotten how to wash my hair… join me in the shower?"
"I think you can manage that yourself, Abby." They deliberately kept their eyes on the laundry.
He stepped forward, "Please please please? I wanna feel your fingers in my hair rubbing my scalp-"
They stood up straight with a full basket of clothes, glancing over the sculpted torso he'd flashed a hundred times. "Do all of you have matching tattoos or just you and Jinu?"
He stiffened, eyes flickering down to the dark patterns across his chest. "You've seen Jinu shirtless?"
"Hasn't everyone? Those are really solid, you must have to wear a lot of makeup to hide them."
His chest puffs out as they step closer, ego recovering with the attention. "It's magic, babe. Wanna see what else I can do?"
"Maybe another time."
He visibly lit up as they squeezed past with a basket on their hip. Y/N wasn't turning him down!
♤♡◇♧
"My love, I didn't scare you away, did I?" Romance hopped onto the running washing machine as Y/N worked through a pile of clean laundry.
"No, Romy, of course not. I just have jobs to do for you all." They separated Abby's buttonless shirts from the heap for later.
"You take such good care of us, why don't you let me take care of you?" His legs parted not so discretely. If Y/N was more focused on him they would have realised he sat on the machine to feel the movement.
"Because I'm paid to look after you."
"Oh I see. I'm just a paycheck to you!" He pressed his hand against his forehead and faked sniffles.
They picked out every undamaged piece and squished them down in the basket. "A very pretty paycheck."
Romance gasps in excitement and turns to lie on his belly and rest his chin on his hands. "Tell me more."
Y/N smiled at his silly behaviour. "I think you heard enough earlier."
"No fanatic could compare to you, my sweet. I would hear a hundred mean comments, no a thousand! Just for one kind word from your soft lips." He tried to shuffle himself along on his belly to get his face closer to theirs.
They glanced over from pilling his heart patterned underwear into a basket, eyes meeting his. His pupils pink and blown wide with a circle of gold. Their hands froze with the rest of them, "Your eyes…"
His cheeks flushed. And the direct vibrations creating a feeling of something stirring lower. Faster. He jumped up and rushed out of the room without a word.
Mystery made an amused huff at the sight and proceeded to rest his nose against Y/N's neck. Their arm bumped the basket and he tipped it upright again. They hadn't seen him come in after they turned back to the clothes.
"What was that about?"
He just shrugged. Then proceeds to inhale their scent like a drug.
Baby wandered into the utility room next, just as Y/N bent down to unload another batch of laundry. Their backside brushing against Mystery as his hands came to rest on their hips.
He scowled. Mystery smirked and flashed his teeth. Y/N didn't notice.
They straighten up so he pressed closer.
"It's hard to move when you squeeze me like that, Mysmysty."
He grumbled. Reluctantly he loosened his grip just enough for his hands to explore more freely.
Baby stepped closer so the grumble turns to a growl.
Y/N finally glances over after picking up the basket, "Oh hello Baby."
"It's my turn," His eyes were on Mystery.
"I'm washing your clothes too, don't worry, Baby."
"Oh I'm not worried."
The moment Y/N stepped closer to the machine and out of Mystery's arms, Baby tackled him to the floor. The room filled with sounds of growling and huffing and snapping teeth from both of them as they wrestled.
Y/N just stepped around them with the clean folded clothes and headed somewhere less aggressive.
Back to sit on the sofa. The boys had dispersed —for the moment— so they could relax and see what can be repaired.
Abby is a beefcake. Good for the eyes, not for his shirts. Since moving in with them as a full time assistant, Y/N had been ordering buttons in bulk. Once his shirt popped open in front of a fan there was no hope of getting them back. It was like his abs were magic. They tried replacing them with plastic fasteners, but according to Abby he wanted to give his fans a chance to catch the projectiles. As if his tummy wasn't a gift on its own.
The spare buttons seemed to disappear on their own too. Half their supply dwindled anytime they left it out. So now they kept an extra close eye on it in case one of the boys were playing with them again.
Y/N picked coarse blue hairs off a floral shirt — too dark to be from Baby or Mystery — as Jinu wandered in. He stretched his whole body out to rest his head on their lap, and his feet dangling off the end.
"Need something?"
"No." He pressed his face to their tummy.
"Tired?"
"I don't sleep." It came out muffled.
"That's probably why you're tired." They bent forward to get a handful of buttons, thread, and a needle, squishing his face even more.
Jinu spluttered audibly, but made no move to escape. They gave his hair a pat in apology.
Y/N suddenly yelped loudly and Jinu bolted upright, their hand catching on his arm. "Someone just pulled my hair— Jinu I'm so sorry."
The needle scratched him in the movement. They expected blood to bead out but instead saw… purple? Little drops of purple fluid. Jinu wiped it away and his skin was flawless again.
"What is that."
"Don't tell me you didn't notice, babe." Romance appeared over their shoulder, as did the other three.
Looming over Y/N, eyes glowing, teeth growing, patterns spreading over their faces. Each one doing their best to look scary, while Abby's flexing popped his shirt open again. A button hitting them in the face brought them back to the moment.
"You're… shapeshifters?"
"Try again, sweetheart."
"Dragons?" Watching their heads shake, "Skinwalkers? Changelings? Vampires?"
Jinu smiled. "We don't suck blood."
Abby pressed his knee into the cushion on their other side, "But we would sure like to suck-"
Jinu's hand to his bare chest stopped him. "Just… give them a minute."
He backed off —with the rest of them— and Jinu settled next to them again.
"Who keeps taking my buttons." Y/N muttered as they looked for the handful they dropped in shock.
"Come with me."
They took his hand.
Jinu lead them to his bedroom. He had never allowed them in before, always pretending to be better at housework than he is to keep them away.
The first think they see is the big blue tiger on the center of his bed. With an even bigger head and glowing eyes. His tail thumping lazily against the pillow. A six eyed magpie sat on his back, plucking out thick blue hairs.
"What is this?" They still held his hand.
"Just watch."
The magpie flew over them to a high shelf. Jinus hands gripped their waist and lifted so they could see. He fluttered down to a colourful nest. Thee eyes blinked at Y/N, then he started mixing the fur with a loose clump of hair that matched theirs, weaving it into the nest and pressing buttons in between strands.
"I try to get them back for you, but he pecks me." He lowered them back down before they decided to comment on the amount of dust.
The tiger stared.
"What are they."
"My spirit guides. Go say hello." He nudged them forward.
They pressed their knee into the mattress to get closer. "Hello uh…"
"Derpy."
"Derpy? Okay. Hello Derpy." Y/N held their hand out slowly. And received a big wet lick. They wiped it off on his head, but he seemed to like it. "You keep them in here all day?"
"Oh no they go wherever they want. It's very hard to hide them from you."
"And… all the rest? Was that hard too?"
"Excruciating." He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.
They moved to join him, and Derpy pressed his face to their back. "What are you really, Jinu?"
"We're demons. Sent here to defeat Huntr/x."
They look at his pale purple complexion; without the patterns and glowing eyes he would look sickly. "So you're just a boyband."
"Not exactly. Demons feed on souls-"
Their eyes widen, "Have you eaten my soul?"
"No of course not! You would not be breathing."
They nod and give Derpy a pat. "Okay. That's good. Keep it that way."
♤♡◇♧
"You ran off earlier, are you feeling okay, Rom?"
"Perfect now you're back in my arms. This smells almost as delicious as you, my tasty treat." Romance squeezed their waist, "What are you cooking?"
"Just a stir fry." Y/N placed a lid on the counter and shook a little spice jar over the wok, "Do you think this is enough chilly powder? You know how Baby likes it."
"Mhmm nothing could rival the heat you make me feel." He nipped at their neck.
"Oh!" They didn't expect his teeth to feel sharper than usual, or to look up to a blue grinning face appearing through the wall at the same time. "I spilt it. You make me add to much!"
He hummed and licked gently over the love bite without looking at the sizeable pile dissolving. "I'm sure it's just as delectable. We can handle a little spice."
"That's more than a little. Has it changed the colour?" They sigh, "Maybe I should start over."
"And make dinner late?" Abby leaned over Y/N as he and the other three squeezed into the kitchen.
"There's more room at the table." They screwed the top back on the jar to preserve what little remained.
"But we wanna be close to you!" He whined and leaned over their other shoulder, so Romance gave a little jab to his belly.
"I'll test your food, Y/N." Jinu pushed through the group.
"No way, me first!"
Derpy's big pink tongue flopped out towards the stove top. Y/N tried to push it back in with one hand, "If you all just wait at the table-"
Mystery barked at them all. Meanwhile Baby moved to their right and licked a spoon clean, they hadn't noticed him take it. He held eye contact as he sucked it into his mouth. Humming softly —barely audible over the fighting— and dragged his tongue over it a final time before handing it back.
"Too hot?"
His eyes flickered over them. "Perfect."
Heat crawled up their collar. "Can you get the plates down for me?" Derpy finally sunk back through the wall to find another way to get a second dinner.
By now the entire group scowled while Y/N turned away to dish up dinner. Baby grinned and slid his hand over their waist to increase their flustered state — and to steal Romance's place.
They handed each member a plate with steaming pork and veggies piled on and sent them to sit down finally.
As much as they all tried to share (which wasn't a lot) they didn't understand portion control. Or patience. So by making them queue like a school lunch line, Y/N ensured they all got the same, and there was enough left over for them to join.
They leaned over to place a jug of water on the dinning room table, Abby looking up in delight.
"How about a little soda pop for me instead?" He squeezed the back of their thigh gently.
"Put it on the shopping list," They stepped back.
His hand slid further up their thigh. "Come on, just let me drink in every drop."
They gave Abby's hand a brief squeeze before moving it away. "You're not drinking any of me right now."
"Oh so later?" He grinned and raised his brow teasingly.
"... Shut up and eat your dinner."
"I love it when you're bossy."
Y/N sat down and waited to see their reactions before they started eating. "Don't worry if you don't like it tonight, I might have messed it up."
"My beloved, do not talk that way, I could never hate your cooking." Romance took a large bite, making a point to groan happily as he chewed. "You must know the way to a man's heart is through is stomach, because every dish from you is a love letter to my soul."
Every other member dug in too, not paying attention as Romance started to cough.
"Are you alright? Do you need—"
Three more followed, eyes brimming with tears and gulping down water.
"I guess their love letter was only to me." Baby grinned and took another bite.
"Your love hurts so good." Romance wheezed, trying to smile through the tears.
Context: They got hungry late at night after a performance and the only place that was open at that hour was a fast food restaurant, the employee that's used to dealing with a mostly empty restaurant has the most memorable shift of her life
I’ve seen lots of different interpretations of Jinu’s voice/musical ability. The general consensus seems to be that Jinu was gifted his voice and talent (or at least better voice and talent) by Gwi-Ma when he accepted the deal.
But if we take a deeper dive into what was actually said in the movie, it paints an interesting picture:
“I let you keep that voice, Jinu. And you dare to mock me with it?”
Keep. That’s the keyword here. If the creators wanted to make it clear that Jinu was gifted his voice in exchange for his soul, wouldn’t it have been much easier to convey that by having Gwi-Ma say “I gave you that voice” instead? I think that was an interesting choice of words.
Of course, it raises a few questions. Does Gwi-Ma have the ability to strip Jinu of his voice? Has he threatened to do so before to keep Jinu in line? I would venture to say yes, especially considering the physical/bodily control Gwi-Ma is shown to be able to assert over his demons.
“Overnight my fate was changed. I was praised for my voice, even by the King himself.”
This quote especially strikes me as indicative of what’s really going on with Jinu. He never once says that his voice got better. He says that he was finally praised for his voice.
If we think about Jinu’s circumstances, the time he is from and the Joseon caste system, raising above his lowborn status would’ve been out of the question. Even with his remarkable musical talent. The chance of being “discovered” was near impossible, since cheonmin often lived separately from the upper class.
I believe that what Gwi-Ma gave Jinu was opportunity. He opened up the door for Jinu to be discovered by someone of high standing. Someone who could get him into the palace. Someone who could finally give him the recognition he’d longed for. All while simultaneously leading Jinu down the path to abandon his family and drown in shame.
I believe that’s why Jinu was so good at being an idol. He loved it. Putting aside his main goal, it seems like every aspect of idol life was fulfilling to him. He seemed excited to pitch the idea to Gwi-Ma. He must’ve worked on it for years. He looked genuinely thrilled to win awards for his music. It wasn’t just a mission to him. He was passionate about it.
It’s almost like he wanted to prove to himself that, if he had been born into better and more fair circumstances, he could’ve turned his talent into something lucrative. It’s almost like he wanted to prove to himself that if it weren’t for his social standing, he could’ve provided for his family doing something he loved.
Jinu did not only starve in body during his human life. He also starved to be recognized for his natural talent. He was born into unfortunate circumstances that never allowed for that talent to thrive.
In my opinion, Jinu as a starving artist serves his story better, and is more conducive to demonstrating his motives throughout the movie. It adds layers to the tragedy and depth of his choices.
