#I have been fawning over this art since I first saw it

[cfcreative]

Absolutly losing my mind because this finally arrived today! It’s quite possibly my favorite art of Karlach (by @ribbonentrails!!) signed by Sam Béart.

It’s gonna go in a place of HONOR on my art wall; I just have to re-negotiate where my signed Dimension 20: Fantasy High Live art is placed.

[luxesiren]

⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑!𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

cw :: mentions of violence, nsfw headcanons (MDNI)

a/n :: i saw this picture again the other day and i had to write something abt it cause jesus christ…look at him! (art creds: @/jpegjetty on twt)

hockey player!armin who's been skating since he was young and started playing hockey in memory of his dad.

hockey player!armin who usually isn't into violent sports but loves hockey with a burning passion and it is extremely good at it

hockey player!armin who outsmarts his opponents in every game, making them mad but he never cared. he always bragged by smirking and skating past them sometimes winking just to spite them.

hockey player!armin who has many girls fawning over him just like his other teammates but is always surprised by the number of girls who actually like him

hockey player!armin who met you at one of his games and it was completely random but he saw you in the stands and was instantly attracted to you.

hockey player!armin was too nervous to say something to you even though eren had prompted him to say something stop pining over you. "dude, just talk to her." he would shake his head and sighed, "i can't.

hockey player!armin who almost fell to his knees when you finally talked to him.

hockey player!armin who you realized was a sweetheart out of the rink and just kept the cocky persona when he was playing cause it made him feel good.

hockey player!armin who takes you out every friday after his games even if he's tired, bringing you flowers and making sure you have a good time. going all out because he wanted to see you.

hockey player!armin lets you wear his backup jersey to all of his games now even though he hasn't asked you out yet but he loves seeing you with his name on your back.

hockey player!armin who points to you in the stands when he makes the shot because you're his good luck charm and even though all the other girls fawn over it, you know it's for you and you only.

hockey player!armin who finally asks you out on one of your dates and completely surprises you but of course, you said yes.

hockey player!armin who is usually the calm one out of everyone on the team and talks everyone out of fighting each other but gets into an altercation with another player on another team. you see the big group before it even happens standing on the bleachers to get a better look, the crowd gasping when everyone starts to move and a fight breaks out.

you move faster than expected, sitting in the front by the barricade watching eren pull armin off the other player. both of them still yelling at each other and armin trying to break out of eren's arms, but that unwavering cockiness was still there when he wiped the blood off his lips and skated towards the barricade shooting a smirk your way before sitting out for the rest of the game.

hockey player!armin loves kissing you, whatever chance he gets. sometimes you're in his lap and his hands are all over you, you can't help but to squirm in his hold.

hockey player!armin who took such good care of you when you guys had sex for the first time, taking his time prepping you and making sure you were satisfied. "right there, baby?" "does that feel good?" "can you cum for me?" "you look so pretty like this"

remember when i said hockey player!armin was a sweetheart? yeah not when he's frustrated or when he's lost a game, having never lost a game before, his first loss got to him and he took it out on you. you would never forget how rough he got, how filthy his words were as he fucked you into the mattress.

"min, min, 's too much. s-slow down!" you cried out but he just sped up, his hips smacking against your ass loud enough that it echoes in the room, "c'mon you can take it. you've taken it before like a good slut, haven't you?

hockey player!armin doesn't get jealous often but he notices how men look at you, he's usually embarrassed when he leaves marks visible on your neck but tonight he makes the exception. he wants to send a message to the guy who's always hitting on you, that way he won't hit on you again.

hockey player!armin who eats your pussy like a starved man, he's sloppy with the way spit over your cunt and slurps up your slick making your thighs shake but he loves when they're around his head trying not to close around his head but he doesn't care. "f-fuck, armin!" your hands carding through his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy.

grinding on his face but his hands grip your thighs even tighter, he relishes in the fact that he gets to see you like this and no one else will see you like this. it doesn't take him long to make you cum, overstimulating you when he licks up all your cum. "you taste good, baby."

hockey player!armin who says 'i love you' after months of being together and takes you back to his place to engrave it in your skin with every kiss and every word he whispers in your ear as he slowly thrusts into you, taking his time enjoying this part of his thoroughly planned evening making sure you feel all of his love, "i love you, baby." "i love you too, minnie."

© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me, please don’t steal, copy, or repost to any other websites

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — it all falls down

jang wonyoung and kim jiwon's dorm. 3:47 pm.

WARNINGS; blood, graphic depictions of physical violence, slut shaming, threats, trust issues, implied mental breakdown, effects of gaslighting, victim blaming (towards self) (4.8k)

from an early age, naoi rei knew that love wasn't for her.

she saw the decorative hearts scattered all over her elementary school as her peers fawned over their crushes. the chocolates that hid behind heart-shaped boxes taunted the young naoi as she listened to her friends' relationship woes.

everywhere she turned, love seemed to consume all those who stood in its vicinity. her parents would mindlessly hum their wedding song under their breath. her music teacher's desk littered with all her students' drawings, except for a portrait of her husband.

love consumed everyone's time. everyone's effort.

it didn't consume rei, not directly.

rei knew her parents loved her. they would go out of their way to go to her recitals and take her shopping when she needed new clothes. they even funded all of rei's (very expensive) expenses when it came to art.

they were perfect on paper, and if rei was any other person, it would've been enough.

on her fifth birthday, they had spent one out of the twenty-four hours of the day with her. the one hour consisted of eating together, and a small, thirty-minute gift session where rei had opened about ten gifts or so.

later, they would leave to stay at a hotel on their one day off. they would drop the five-year-old at her grandma's flower shop, named after rei's mother.

on christmas when she was seven years old, rei woke up in a quiet house. the silence was deafening, and all the young naoi could remember that day was the pile of presents she opened by herself.

the seven-year-old would find out later that her parents had left her home to grab a christmas breakfast.

the day she had left to go to korea, rei had been asked one question during the entire car ride before her parents had rushed off. she then boarded the plane, first class, watching as her two check-in luggages were being brought onto the airplane.

she'd never tell them, but she wanted them to miss their reservation, just this once. just so they could hug her goodbye.

somehow, rei had become a side character in her own life, watching as everyone paid no attention to her. she knew that if she were to get erased from her own family, they wouldn't even notice. it hurt her that they wouldn't have cared.

(rei's family hadn't checked up on her since she landed.)

rei was bitter when it came to love.

she hated how she couldn't appreciate her parents' efforts because of it, and how she always questioned if she was alive out of coincidence and not want.

still, rei couldn't help but become fascinated with it.

she wondered why so many people would throw logic aside for someone who had the power to break them. she couldn't comprehend how love was able to blindside so many people.

love was an emotion. one that made her fade away.

her mind was made as soon as she stepped onto korean soil. she wouldn't bother with anything that came with the emotion, not even if her neighbor was clearly in love with one of her friends.

they weren't her friends anyway. why should she care?

"you're the girl my mom was talking about. the one that lives in the apartment across from us." rei could remember seeing the tall girl glare from behind her neighbor, almost trying to shoo her away. "i'm not sure if you saw me around before. i just staying here for the summer."

her hair was so long back then.

"my name's kim gaeul."

"i'm naoi rei."

rei had friends before.

they were all boy-crazy, hiding makeup in their drawers instead of pencils to impress their crush of the month. like her parents, they had never asked about her interests or hobbies, but rei knew almost everything about them. she could read them like the back of her hand.

she knew it was gonna be the same.

(it wasn't.)

"you like hawaiian pizza, right?" jang wonyoung, whom gaeul had introduced a month ago (alongside ahn yujin), scrolled through her phone as the other two were off somewhere in the kim residence. "i ordered some, but just so you know, yujin-unnie's gonna make fun of you."

rei had mentioned it once, offhandedly a week or two ago. she didn't know how wonyoung cared enough to remember. yujin, on the other hand, would've been too busy with gaeul to care. sometimes, rei wondered if yujin even noticed her presence.

it wouldn't have been the first time someone had forgotten about her.

"what the hell?" yujin said as she dug through the boxes. the aroma of freshly baked pizza wafted the entire house. "rei ordered these, didn't she?"

"leave her alone, yujin."

yujin laughed at the younger girl with an arm wrapped around gaeul. her cheeks were bright red, teasing the japanese for liking something so obscure (in her mind, at least). rei watched the three koreans closely, wonyoung and gaeul trying to defend her from the onslaught of yujin's comments.

each comment was directed at her. each smug grin, each teasing look. yujin had remembered, and so had gaeul, and so had wonyoung.

they could see her. they wanted to see her, despite the love that they held for someone else.

love was an emotion, not a blindfold.

for once, naoi rei didn't mind being the side character, and she would do everything in her power to make them happy, to make her family happy. she knew that one day, when the time came, they wouldn't forget her.

rei hated it, being forgotten (yet somehow, she hated the thought of ripping two people apart).

rei didn't understand love, but she knew that she wished her friends would find it.

(but somehow, it also found her.)

"who's trying to break down the door?"

wonyoung looked at the shaking door, partially terrified that whoever (read: rei) would somehow knock it wide open with just her fist.

as much as she loved rei, wonyoung refused to let the japanese girl anywhere near or inside her dorm when jiwon was around. rei had yet to give the true happenings of what went down that night with jiwon, but she could tell it was bad.

finding the young kim crying in her bed was a weird role reverse at first, but wonyoung knew how it felt like. she knew how painful it was to love someone but not have them.

"it's no one."

the banging continued, somehow getting harsher and louder with every passing second.

if there was one thing that naoi rei was good at, it was persistence.

"maybe it's yuri-unnie." jiwon muttered, rubbing her now scabbed knuckles. "she did text me this morning asking if i was okay... i think she wanted me to help her jump minjeong-unnie."

jiwon had gotten a phone call earlier that morning. from what she could tell, the sun was just starting to rise, and from the way yuri's voice had sounded, the older girl had stayed up all night.

("we don't have to tell minju. i'm sure she wouldn't mind anyways.")

jiwon could only hope that yuri hadn't gone through with her ten-step plan.

"why would yuri-unnie want to jump minjeong-sunbaenim?"

the two stared at each other, blank faces as gears turned in their heads.

"i'm gonna open the door now." jiwon stated, moving towards the entrance. she needed any way out of the conversation, even if she ended up trying to talk someone out of a potential assault charge.

the door continued to rattle under rei's fist, and she prayed that whatever happened to jiwon was minor. she hoped that the girl she hurt wasn't in pain.

the door swung open, a sense of relief washing over the japanese girl as the kim stood in front of her.

love wasn't for rei.

she was the side character, the girl who set up her friends with their exes, the mastermind behind everything. she was the girl everyone ran to, and everyone forgot when the time came. she was a plot device.

"rei?"

naoi rei didn't want to be a plot device anymore. she wanted love to want her, just like she wanted her parents to love her.

the japanese girl looked at jiwon in front of her, the latter cradling her hand. her knuckles were a blush red, forming uneven marks around the peaks. rei could see the small scabs starting to form at the tips of her first two knuckles, and the swollen bump on the back of jiwon's hand.

it looked like it hurt, and somehow, in some way, it upset rei.

rei ushered the taller girl onto her bed, ignoring the questioning stares that came from the others. she'd deal with them later. jiwon was hurt, and that was rei's priority.

wonyoung stood at the doorway, eyeing the two.

"you'd think she's the one with the wrist brace and first aid kit," yujin snickered.

she wondered if rei knew what she was doing, what she was feeling. she should've by now. the glint in her eye was enough for anyone to know.

gaeul rolled her eyes at her girlfriend. "i think it's nice that she's worried."

she just hoped rei could deal with the heartbreak that came with it.

sighing, wonyoung gestured for the two older girls to come inside. she pushed aside a foreboding feeling in her chest, disregarding all the signs that something was wrong. it was just the thermostat, anyway. jiwon always liked to turn it up when she felt overwhelmed.

as the volleyball player began to shut the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

a gray sweater. y/n's gray sweater.

wonyoung swung the door open almost immediately.

"y/n."

with a small nod, y/n smiled.

something was wrong.

y/n's eyes were bloodshot red, the thin red veins popping against the whites of her eyes. her cheeks were red from crying, wonyoung deducted. if she looked any harder, wonyoung was sure to see the dried streaks of tears on the older girl's cheeks. it was a normal site of a sad y/n, at least from what wonyoung could remember.

but there was something in her eyes. something that unsettled wonyoung.

why did it seem so familiar?

"is jiwon okay?" y/n's voice cracked out, clearing her throat in embarrassment.

wonyoung nodded lightly, stepping aside for the actress to enter. with light, but sluggish steps, the taller girl watched y/n walk passed her. it was heavy with the burden of something.

wonyoung closed the door behind her. she watched the love of her life almost morph into someone that wasn't there before, a soft smile appearing on her face as she stared at jiwon.

it was her y/n (but who was the y/n before?).

"gaeul-sunbae," y/n spoke, her voice shaking slightly. she could feel jiwon's worried gaze. "can you check her hand?"

gaeul nodded, sitting beside jiwon.

y/n could feel the guilt wracking inside her body as she stared at jiwon's injured hand. every wince that the younger girl made seemed to cut her deeply, and all y/n could do was blame herself.

it was her fault for not seeing the signs, and her fault for not wanting to. all she wanted was a friend, but never at the cost of another.

"do you want to sit down?" wonyoung's voice sounded like a melody, pulling her out of her trance.

y/n stared at the taller girl. she couldn't help but wonder if the volleyball player had ever held some type of grudge against her, a vendetta to ruin her life. maybe it was something more simple, like a hatred fueled from putting her through everything that was yoo jimin.

y/n took a breath. her wonyoung wouldn't do that.

but then again, her minjeong did.

"it's okay."

y/n didn't know what was what anymore. for all she knew, she could've been letters on a screen, strung together from the most painful parts of human life.

all y/n knew was that jiwon, minju, yuri (and yena), and her parents were real. they had to be. they needed to be.

if they were, then she'd be okay. she knew she'd be okay.

wonyoung grabbed her hand gently, the pad of her thumb tugging her back to reality. back to wonyoung.

y/n was back to wonyoung, her wonyoung. the one with big, doe eyes that cried at the movie 'UP' and hid a box of random pieces of lego in her closet back when they were dating. her wonyoung who was hyunseo's older sister, who carried the jang name with a burden that only showed in the darkest of nights.

she wanted to be wonyoung's y/n again. not minjeong's, not jimin's. wonyoung's.

"please?"

y/n hoped that wonyoung was real. she hoped that this was all real.

quietly, y/n sat down, interlacing her hand with the taller girl's. she watched as wonyoung followed, a small blush on her face as she stared at her with love.

love was consuming y/n.

"what happened anyway?" yujin hummed, not noticing the tension forming in the air.

gaeul could only sigh. her girlfriend was as dense as she was pretty, and at times like these, it was unfortunate that yujin was insanely beautiful.

"did jiwon go ballistic?" yujin's eyes sparkled at the thought of wonyoung's roommate beating someone up. "minju-sunbaenim always gave me crazy vibes, especially when you and wonyoung broke up. i guess the apple doesn't fall far from the - ow!"

gaeul smiled at wonyoung, sitting innocently as if she didn't kick yujin at full force. if rei hadn't been so worried, a snicker would've slipped passed her lips.

right now was jiwon. she'd deal with idiots later.

"don't listen to her." wonyoung smiled, and y/n could feel herself floating. "unnie's just like that sometimes."

unnie.

wonyoung had never called y/n that. not before them, not during them, not after. she called gaeul unnie. same with yujin. she even called jimin unnie at one point.

y/n swallowed.

maybe she did something wrong. maybe wonyoung saw her as lesser than them. maybe this was a sign that her wonyoung had been someone else this entire time.

y/n looked at the taller girl, grinning at her with shiny eyes.

no. wonyoung wasn't jimin or minjeong.

(but what if she was?)

"jiwon-ssi..." gaeul looked at the extent of the bruises. "how hard did you punch them?"

y/n and jiwon looked at each other, both thinking of the deep cut that the younger kim had somehow administered to minjeong.

"not that hard..."

gaeul sighed. her wrist brace wasn't going to be much use against a boxer's fracture. "you need to go to the doctor for this. i'm ninety percent sure you broke it."

rei could feel her stomach drop. she had never felt more anxious in her life, and it wasn't even about her. at times like these, she wished she had her license, just to be there with the kim at the hospital. rei knew that minju wasn't gonna let her near her sister.

rei wished she was invisible, just this once.

jiwon nodded, looking at y/n who seemed deep in her thoughts once more. something was going on inside her head, jiwon just couldn't place it. all she knew was that minjeong was the cause.

a loud banging erupted throughout the room, y/n jumping back slightly. it was harder than last time, the knocking. it sounded as if someone was ramming the door open and if any of the girls listened closer, they would hear the doorknob shaking against the frame.

y/n wondered what would've happened if she didn't see minjeong last night. she understood why, but all at the cost of her friends well being. it might've not been her decision, but she had a say.

she always had a say.

y/n felt stupid.

wonyoung gave y/n's hand a light squeeze before letting go. she headed towards the door, the pounding never stopping. if she didn't open it soon, her ra would definitely get her in trouble, especially the one on duty.

as the volleyball player began to open the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

black. specifically jimin's black jacket.

wonyoung found herself stumbling backwards as the door rammed open. she closed her eyes, waiting for the fall but all she felt was the tightening of her collar, and the graze of someone's kuckles against her collarbone.

her eyes opened, and all she saw were jimin's dark irises.

"you."

jimin was angry. she was livid. everything she did ended up back to wonyoung. if it was volleyball, wonyoung was there. if it was school, wonyoung's 'fans' were in the vicinity. even when she ate, wonyoung's face would be plastered on her water bottle.

there were some upsides though.

"where's aeri?"

yujin tensed, nearly pouncing on jimin if not for gaeul's disapproving look. she wouldn't hold back, not with her friends.

gaeul knew that, and she prayed that somehow, the situation would get diffused before it escalated.

"what the-" wonyoung tried to pry jimin's grip off of her, only for it to tighten even more. "sunbaenim, are you insane?"

y/n had never felt rage consume her. she didn't know how it felt like, in all honesty. she was used to the sadness that jimin had provided her, but somehow, it tripled. it overwhelmed her, like the love that minjeong had confessed to her the day prior, or the pressure that weighed wonyoung down.

she was free from jimin, but not her effect.

"jimin." y/n stood up, her voice hoarse. "stop it."

it felt familiar to wonyoung, in a painful way.

"you're protecting her?" the veins on jimin's head popped, her face an angry red as she stared at y/n. "you're fucking kidding me. yizhuo was right?"

y/n sighed. she was getting tired of this. of everything.

"what are you talking about?"

"you're fucking wonyoung again." jimin would always be second to wonyoung, to everyone. it didn't matter how hard she loved or how much she tried. she was her father's daughter, and she was getting his punishment. "god, you just open your legs up for anyone."

y/n wanted to scream. she wanted to yell at jimin, at minjeong to leave her alone. she wanted them to get out of her mind, and to move some place else where she would never have to think about them ever again.

all y/n could feel was red.

"i could say the same for you, jimin."

wonyoung frowned. her y/n was never angry, at least not outwardly. even if she was, y/n never stooped as low as jimin.

something was wrong. something was broken.

(wonyoung hoped she was okay, whatever it was.)

jimin tightened her grip, her eyebrows furrowing. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means what you think it means." it was like lava, pooling out of her mouth like an unstoppable wave. "let. wonyoung. go."

the room fell silent, and wonyoung was sure that jimin loosened her grip for a split second. the ace scanned y/n's eyes, dark and angry before jimin balled up more of wonyoung's shirt.

she could feel jimin's knuckles pressing against her neck, and wonyoung fought back an urge to cough.

"is this about minjeong?" jimin rolled her eyes. she didn't understand why it was such a big deal, especially since she loved y/n, not minjeong. "is that why you're acting all bitchy all of a sudden?"

y/n flinched back, the overwhelming sadness suddenly rendering her speechless. anger helped her forget it, and although it seemed like a plus side, it felt gross.

y/n looked at wonyoung, and guilt love began to consume her once more.

"minjeong came onto me." y/n fought back tears. she was tired of trying to figure out who's side was real, and who was there for her and not her body. "everyone comes to me eventually."

yujin tensed once more. she was sick of jimin. her hot-headedness made the team walk eggshells around her, blaming everyone but herself for all her failures.

for once, she wanted to put jimin in her place.

"now..." jimin glared at wonyoung. "where's aeri, jang?"

wonyoung didn't know. she didn't even know about the whole minjeong-jimin thing until jimin had pounced on her, but if jimin didn't know where aeri was, that meant that she was safe.

wonyoung kept her mouth sealed shut, returning an angry glare.

"where the fuck is she?" wonyoung could feel jimin tightening her grip once more, her balled up fists pressing against her trachea. she had never wanted to punch someone in her life, but jimin was making it difficult.

"answer my question!" jimin's voice boomed, and wonyoung was sure everyone could hear it.

gaeul bit her tongue. she forgot how annoying yeji's jimin was.

quietly, gaeul spoke, not wanting to anger the ace any further. "she doesn't know."

"i wasn't talking to you, you slut." jimin snapped at gaeul. y/n could feel yujin tense from beside her, wonyoung shaking her head at her captain. jimin gripped wonyoung tighter, her knuckles turning white. "where is she, wonyoung? where's aeri?"

"i don't know."

"don't bullshit me." jimin grumbled, her voice low and her eyes angry. "i know you're useless, but you aren't this useless."

jimin was like wonyoung's mother in every sense. not only was she conventionally pretty, she was demanding and negligent to those around her. she used her words as a weapon, and her authority as leverage.

but wonyoung was a jang, and she knew how to get a rise out of someone.

"i said i don't know, jimin."

jimin didn't call her father dad anymore. not only had he failed as a husband, he had failed as a person. jimin didn't need to call someone that an honorific when they didn't deserve it.

but jimin wasn't her dad. she couldn't be.

"i'm your sunbae."

she was, in everyone's eyes but her own.

"then act like it."

jimin liked the pain of punching someone.

she liked the way her hand stung, akin to a spike. she liked her knuckles bright red, a physical sight that she was doing something right. jimin didn't like to think about the pain it inflicted on others, unless they deserved it.

jang wonyoung did, however. she deserved all the pain.

jimin winded her hand back, and wonyoung was ready to take the punch head on. she needed proof that jimin had hurt someone once more, a teammate. if getting rid of jimin for the rest of her school year meant a bruised cheek, then wonyoung would absolutely tank it.

wonyoung closed her eyes and a thud could be heard reverberating throughout the room.

she felt nothing.

the volleyball player opened her eyes, only to feel herself getting pulled back as she watched gaeul and rei scramble to stop yujin. she shook them off, ignoring jimin trying to push her head away.

ahn yujin, in all her glory, landed punch after punch on the ace. she was tired of all the pent up anger that she felt towards yeji jimin. she was tired of the older girl in every sense.

yujin wasn't gonna let another version of yeji hurt her friends.

the stinging of her hands got worse and worse as her anger rose. puffs of air released out of her mouth as each strike seemed stronger than the last. eventually, jimin was gonna let her guard down, and then yujin could strike the way she wanted to.

wonyoung needed to stop this, but she couldn't get physical. her father would kill her, and her mother would send her off to america if she got suspended.

she rushed back in, her eyes wide as she tried to pull yujin off. yujin was gonna get suspended, she knew it. the amount of damage she already left was enough to down a grown man.

anger was terrifying.

she saw specks of blood fly everywhere, the captain muttering curses under her breath before getting flipped over.

jimin's blooded face glistened against the light of wonyoung's room, swelling and full of cuts. her covered arms were filled with bruises, but she didn't care. right now, she wanted yujin to pay.

wrapping one hand around yujin's neck to steady her, jimin raised her fist, slamming it down onto the younger girl's face. she could feel something splatter against her skin, and it only fueled the ace further.

despite gaeul and rei's best efforts, jimin was stronger than yujin, and there was no way they could get her off, especially without wonyoung's help.

it didn't matter anymore. if wonyoung didn't do something, yujin might die.

frantically, wonyoung wrapped her arm around jimin's neck, choking her out as she pulled the older girl off yujin. she could feel jimin clawing against her arm, and wonyoung gritted her teeth, feeling blood seep out.

yujin sat up, the left side of her face tattered into shreds. gaeul rushed to her side, the captain watching as jimin struggled to get wonyoung off.

"bitch."

wonyoung looked at y/n, her eyes wide as the older girl kept jiwon behind her. she shook her head, signaling wonyoung to let go. the taller girl nodded, her arm dropping to her side as jimin fell forward, eyes red as she coughed.

she was definitely gonna get sent to america.

as the room fell quiet, jimin's coughing and yujin's heaving seemed to get louder. wonyoung could see the specks of blood littering the floor, and could feel the stinging of her arm.

a cough took their attention away from the bloodied volleyball players.

shit. the ra woke up.

"yuqi-sunbaenim."

"the cops are on their way." she shut her eyes tightly, looking at jimin. at least the girl got a good beating. too bad the others had to face a similar punishment. "don't try to talk your way out of this."

wonyoung nodded, her head hanging low.

"can we go...?" y/n asked, jiwon wincing behind her as her hand became more painful by the minute. "her hand-"

"if you two didn't get involved, then you can go."

y/n nodded, bowing slightly as jimin finally stopped coughing, a bruise on her neck.

"wonyoung?"

y/n looked at the girl in front of her, red running down her arm.

worry encapsulated her entire being, eyebrows furrowing at the sight. wonyoung was hurt, just like jiwon. yujin was hurt, just like jiwon. somehow, y/n hurt two people in one sitting, two people who didn't deserve it.

she could've done something. she should've done something.

"we're okay."

wonyoung could always see right through her.

it terrified her.

carefully, y/n lifted the volleyball player's arm. she could see the marks deep, and an angry red.

she just wanted the pain to go away, hers and wonyoung.

"i'm okay." wonyoung whispered. y/n always got worried about things she didn't need to worry about. "i'll live."

"okay." her wonyoung was real. she was sincere, and familiar. her wonyoung wouldn't hurt her.

y/n loved jang wonyoung, bleeding or not.

"text me how it goes, okay?"

wonyoung's eyes hid the stinging with a smile, quietly admiring the girl in front of her as y/n took jiwon's hand. "i will."

y/n nodded. she trusted wonyoung, just like she trusted jimin and minjeong. it couldn't backfire, not again. not with her wonyoung.

wonyoung moved aside, ignoring jimin glaring at her (she wanted to mock the other girl, powerless against the ra of the building, but that would just cause more problems).

y/n came to a halt, turning to face wonyoung.

"oh, and," a kiss on the cheek. "for... for your arm."

wonyoung didn't care. it was worth it.

"oh!" she bit her tongue, yujin cackling in the corner as gaeul scolded her not to move too much. rei gave her a thumbs up, before giving jiwon a worried gaze. "yeah, of course."

y/n nodded awkwardly, tugging jiwon's free hand.

"jiwon," y/n ignored her stare. "let's go."

the two exited the room, jiwon wincing with every swing of her arm. y/n would have to call minju once they got to the hospital.

god, minju was gonna kill everyone in that room and then her.

"did you just kiss her?"

y/n blushed as the elevator opened.

"on her cheek, ji." y/n shook her head. "you need to stop hanging out with yuri-unnie."

as jiwon entered the elevator, y/n followed her inside. the younger girl faced away from her, cradling her hand and trying to stabilize it.

for a moment, y/n relaxed. no one was looking at her. no one had to see the turmoil she had gone through. she sighed quietly, her face dropping, eyes a void of anger and frustration, of pain and hurt.

everything was consuming her.

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

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[anima-nostrae]

Ups, I forgot about my WIP

A curse as old as time, isn't it? A fanfic, an essay, a story, a piece of art...

The beautiful thing is that there is no deadline for passion projects. They can lay dormant for a day, a month, or a decade, but they come to life just as fervently as loyal old dogs that greet their owners when they come back from a boring but life-giving job.

That is to say, I am proud to announce Days of Reckoning have been picked up again, if there is anyone here that cares for them. I would hazard a guess that Chapter 3 will be live by the end of the month. In the meanwhile, here's a sneak peak (this is an unedited version, therefore might differ slightly from the "published version"):

If the temperature inside the cottage could be classified as breezy the previous evening, then the morning was assuredly cutting. The second Bloom opened her eyes, with one being covered by a duvet she had to throw over her face sometime in the night, she wanted to curl up even tighter into herself, suddenly missing her grandmother’s favourite hobby, knitting, and particularly discovering the art of weaving herself into a tight woollen ball. The very next thought was that she had to be smelling burnt toast, since that particular charring process is, at least to the nose, unmistakeable. The third thought was that she was in the goddamn cottage, and not alone but with…

With a groan that was just a tiny bit exaggerated she rolled over onto her back and sat up straight, still wearing the protective cocoon all around her trembling body. Her eyes were lacking their usual sharpness, hence why Bloom couldn’t be convinced that she saw Valtor cooking in front of her. 

He didn’t mind her much, focused tightly on his fried eggs and probably very much less than fresh toasts with butter, all of which the stars themselves only knew where he got from.

“Erghm,” she cleared her throat. He turned around like a startled fawn, a reflex probably polished by hundreds of battles and assassination attempts. All he found was a half-naked woman, freezing on the bed they made love in the night before. The same woman he fought for many months, the same woman he’s wanted for more than that.

“Morning,” he said, in the most curated monotone.

“I didn’t know you…” she started, but hesitated, “cook.” Nevermind the first thing that came to her mind was eat.

He returned her a slight smile. “I don’t like to, usually. I simply refuse to be dependent on someone because of my lack of skill.”

Bloom took a moment to appraise him - having her enemy before her the morning after they had each other in turn was not something that would happen any other day. His hair wasn’t a complete mess like she would expect, but it wasn’t the shiny wave it was normally. He was shirtless - with his jacket on, but shirtless nonetheless. Bent over the stove like a—

He was shirtless because she was still wearing his shirt.

Something in her brain that hadn't acknowledged Bloom was already awake decided it was a fair thing to return him his property - it was his shirt, his silk against her skin - so her palms made their way to the collar as she was making rounds with her neck to warm up the stiff muscles. The silk was already past her elbows when the cold hit her directly and Bloom understood she was very much awake. Just like him.

As she was working her way up she realised how pitiful she must’ve looked. Cold, so probably red - nevermind blushed - with morning hair, actively performing a striptease before Valtor, who very mindfully and pointedly was admiring the view outside, but his sly smirk betrayed how much of the show he’s actually witnessed. 

“I thought you’d sneak a peek,” Bloom tried to seem unaffected, but more importantly - not embarrassed - which granted her a rare, and before the previous night unknown, pearly laugh. The kind that makes you show all your teeth and shudder your shoulders.

“Oh, I wouldn’t. Bloom, I am a powerful wizard, and a man, but before that - a gentleman. And,” Somehow, his eyes gained an intensity otherwise improper between a pair of lovers during their first shared morning, “There is nothing you can show me now that I haven’t committed to memory already.”

Bloom broke the stare first, trying to concentrate on the fire instead of this man. He was right, he already got everything.

“That is to say,” he continued, clearly sensing her unease, “Don’t think that I would ever dare to forget even a centimetre of you. A second of you. Now, please dress yourself and come to the fire. The eggs are getting cold, and so I think are you.”

Now that was a convincing argument, Bloom thought, as his previous train of thought remained uncontinued by both of them, seemingly in agreement. But those goose feather bedding seemed much cosier than the proximity of the fire.

“Can’t I have breakfast in bed?”“If you want to sleep in stains for how long we’re staying here, yes. Otherwise - come here.”

Some sweet little fluff huh? Do we like it? There's not much of it coming up, so savour it while it lasts.

[lumelii]

hi ho! it's been a while. but i come bearing a gift. hope you like it!

word count: 3.3k

content warning: slightly nsfw at the end, a whole lot of angst, bullying (?)

Let me know if i missed any tags. Thanks as always to Moni @karamfilmare for being my beta.

Why won’t the ringing stop?

You were sure her name had been given as she was introduced to you, but the words did not register over the incessant peal which started as soon as you saw her with Yuuji across the room. You didn’t need her name though. Yuko Ozawa, the daughter of an old friend of Mr. Nanami’s from Oxford College. She and her father were staying with the Nanamis while her father attended to business in London, though this was the first time you had seen her out in public. From what you understood, her family lived in genteel poverty somewhere in the countryside, not enough money to spend the social season in London. 

Your cousin’s hand on your arm was the only thing keeping your knees from buckling as you stared at Yuuji and Yuko. The look was plain on his face as he watched her. His lazy smile, the soft crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the way his gaze sparkled and wouldn’t be ripped from hers even if a fire broke out in the Gojo’s grand ballroom. 

You must have been taking too long to respond to her introduction, not able to even curtsy without the fear of falling on your face. Ichika stepped in, curtsying deeply enough to support you as well as you did your best attempt to maintain some sense of decorum. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ozawa.” Ichika smiled brightly from the corner of your eye. The grip of her hand tightened slightly, a silent prompt. 

“A pleasure.” You parroted emotionlessly. 

“The pleasure is mine. Mr. Itadori speaks highly of your family.” Yuko’s smile was kind. It didn’t make you hate her any less.

“I’m sure more than we deserve, he is complementary to a fault.” Ichika gave Yuuji a teasing look. 

“You surely jest, Lady Okkotsu. I only give credit where credit is due.” His eyes went to your cousin only for a moment to smirk before he focused his attention back to Yuko. 

The ring in your ears dulled slightly, enough for you to finally take in the woman before you instead of only looking at Yuuji. Her hair was simple, curled at the sides similarly to yours and tied in a low bun at the nape of her neck, though she had no adornments in her hair nor at her neck or ears. Her dress was of a quality far beyond what her family could afford, and you recognized it immediately. 

“What a lovely dress.” You commented, right in the middle of whatever Yuko was saying to your cousin. The other three members of your small circle turned to you, a range of confused expressions on their faces at your interruption. 

Yuko recovered exceptionally well, smiling politely as she looked at the skirt. “Thank you. I didn’t have anything suitable for tonight since it was such short notice. Mrs. Nanami leant me one of her dresses.”

You knew this already. The style was slightly older, but not enough to be outdated. The dress itself was hard to forget, however. Monica Nanami had worn the dress during another party at the Gojo residence in London many years ago. The white muslin gown gathered just below the bust, the light, flowy skirts skimming the floor. The overskirt was intricately embroidered at the edges in gold and multi-colored thread which matched the embroidery along the vee neckline and edges of the bodice. The women at the party had fawned over the wearable piece of art the whole night, and Monica had given every opportunity to praise her husband and his taste. Mr. Nanami’s ears had turned permanently red from all the attention, both from the women at the party and from husbands who gave him a good-natured ribbing for making the rest of them look subpar. It had been a fun, intimate night. You had wondered if one day, Yuuji would do the same for you when you married. If you would married. 

That dream was disappearing faster with every second Yuuji looked at Yuko with all the adoration in the world. 

“How fortunate then, your stay with the Nanami family.” You took a small drink from your lemonade glass, watching her over the rim. 

Her smile became confused but she hid it as best she could. “Yes, I suppose so.” 

She looked at Yuuji. He gave her a reassuring smile and looked at you, his brow slightly furrowed, a question in his eyes. You were behaving erratically, you knew this. But you just didn’t care anymore. It was clear your goal, why you had agreed to this flirtatious farce with Megumi Fushiguro, why you sacrificed your own beliefs for the mere chance Yuuji Itadori might notice you, was for naught. 

You were never even a consideration to him. Now, your pain would be everyone else’s. 

 “They take great pride in their charity work.” You continued. “Though your father must have known that, reaching out to such an old friend for help.” 

“(Y/N).” Ichika murmured your name as a warning. But you wouldn’t stop. You wouldn’t allow yourself to cry, and your anger needed a release. A barbed tongue was your only option.

“Mr. Nanami wouldn’t dare refuse. And how fortunate that he brought his young, unattached daughter with him knowing Nanami’s son would be in town for the season.” You pushed onward, even as Yuko’s face crumbled. “You must have known Mr. Itadori is the heir of his own fortune.” You made a point of looking between Yuuji and Yuko, then up and down at her dress. “Why else would you base yourself enough to wear another woman’s gown, if not to capitalize on the opportunity of a ball to sink your hooks into someone so far above your station?”

The unmasked pain you had caused in Yuko’s eyes should have made you feel something. But it didn’t. You wanted her to hurt. She was living what you had always wanted. What years of pining and waiting had never dimmed. Yet she came into town, and within weeks Yuuji was at her beckon call. You hated it. You hated yourself. Why had you never realized your feelings would never be reciprocated? Why now was it necessary for this innocent girl to suffer? This pain could not be leashed. 

“That’s enough, Miss (l/n).” Yuuji hissed. His eyes flashed with an anger you had never seen before as he glared at you. But you found it was not as devastating as it would have been five minutes ago. Let him feel the pain you felt as well, seeing his love hurt. He should have been aware of your desire. You didn’t try to hide it. Yet it was never even addressed. You didn’t mean enough for even an acknowledgment. 

Yuko forced a stiff smile and curtsied, murmuring an apology before she practically sprinted away. Yuuji didn’t give you a second look as he chased after her, which made the chasm in your chest widen further. 

“What is wrong with you, (y/n)?” Ichika demanded once they were both gone. Her eyes were hard as well, though her expression could have been interpreted as genuine concern. “You’re not cruel, what was that about? You don’t even know Miss Ozawa.”

Her grip was still on your arm. It was too tight. The room was too hot. Your heart in your chest was pounding too hard. And the tears you had been fighting back since Yuuji and Yuko approached you seemed to be coming one way or another. 

You wrenched yourself free from her grasp and ran out of the room. The entire house felt too cramped, though it was one of the largest in the city. You found the patio doors and pushed your way outside running into the garden to find a secluded spot. 

The fresh air should have improved your breathing, but as you finally found a secluded alcove your gasping only grew worse. You had never felt this kind of pain before. You were young when your mother died. You hardly remembered her face, let alone her voice. The grief you may have felt as a child had been forgotten with time as time blunted whatever pain you experienced. If it was anything like the hurt that currently clawed through your chest, you were glad you didn’t remember.  

As a slight breeze blew through the garden, you realized that at some point in your solitude, you had begun to cry. You wipes furiously at your cheeks to rid them of the wet tracks on your skin, but more took their place. Your gasps had turned to sobs, so forceful you bent over and braced your arms on the stone bench in front of you. Your tears stained the cool limestone beneath your hands as you failed to stop the emotions pouring out of you. You were not like this, you weren’t emotional. You thought you were in control of yourself, but events from earlier and your current outburst proved otherwise. 

Had you been wrong all along? Had you confused Yuuji’s kindness as possible interest on your part? You had thought with time, maybe he would see you as more than his friend’s cousin and would pursue you as the other men in the ton had. You had ignored them all for him, and when he did not show his affection you became desperate enough to enter this farce with Megumi Fushiguro. But was it a farce? Megumi, though distant, had shown he cared in his own way throughout your arrangement. Was he interested in truly courting you? And why was it that a small part of you wished he was? You clutched your head in your hands. No. You couldn’t think of this now. That couldn’t be a possibility. Megumi made it clear your arrangement was purely for gain. And you loved Yuuji, you would have him. 

“Y/N.”

You looked to the entrance of your little alcove. Megumi stood there, his face obscured by the darkness. The sight of him made you tears begin anew. He was only a reminder of what you had done and how it was all seemingly for naught. You wiped furiously at your cheeks to rid them of the wet tracks on your skin but they were replaced with new ones. You would not allow Megumi to see you cry. 

“Not now, please not now.” You sobbed. “Leave me be.”

“What happened?” He stepped further into the small garden. “Are you well?”

“No!” You shouted. “I’m obviously not well! Now why don’t you go back inside and leave me to crumble in solitude instead of reveling in it?”

His face was infuriatingly passive as always, and you could see every inch of it now in the moonlight. Something about it set a change in you, and your sorrow morphed into anger. 

“So, are you satisfied?” You straightened to face him, your chin held high. “You were right. My plan didn’t work. Yuuji is now seemingly completely and utterly enamored with Miss Ozawa. He does not desire my company. And now, all my work is for naught and my reputation will be ruined.”

“I do not enjoy seeing you in pain, Miss (l/n).” Megumi’s face still did not change. He could at least pretend to care, but he did not. He never did. 

“Oh, I am sure you do not!” You laughed mirthlessly. “You have only been telling me this whole time to set my hopes aside because Yuuji did not want me, that this plan was ridiculous, that it would never work. Well, you were right. Enjoy your victory and leave me in peace!”

“What victory?” He stepped closer so he was only feet away. He was angry now, you could see it in the way his brow was drawn and the hard set of his jaw. His green eyes sparked dangerously as speared you with his gaze. “Do you think I revel in this?”

“Yes! You were right, I was wrong. And I hate it!” The words were bubbling inside you, just as they had in the ballroom, and you couldn’t stop them even though you weren’t entirely sure you meant them, but you were hurting and you wanted someone else to hurt too. “I hate you!”

“Do you?” He moved closer, crowding your space even as you stepped back until you were almost chest to chest. If you breathed too deeply, your bosom would brush against the lapels of his jacket. Your breath quickened to prevent any part of you touching him. The look in his eyes was dangerous, challenging as a cruel smile spread across his face. You were grateful for it. You didn’t want his pity. You wanted a release to this anger, and you knew he could provide it. “Please, Miss (l/n), enlighten me. Why do you hate me?”

“I hate how you never smile. I hate how you act like you’re above any social interaction and avoid everyone at all costs. I hate how you pretend you dislike something I know you truly enjoy so as not to give someone the satisfaction that they know something about you. I hate how you look someone up and down and you give them that indolent smile like you know something oh so devious and they’ll never know it, because who could ever be as clever or even compare to the great Megumi Fushiguro?” You spat. 

“Is that so?” Your chests were touching now after he stepped forward, but you would not back down. He had tried to hold the upper hand this whole arrangement, but no longer. There was nothing left for you to lose. You had already lost Yuuji, though did you ever really have him in the first place? The thought caused the gaping hole in your chest to widen, the pain renewed. You could not hold onto this. It needed an outlet, and it stood before you. 

“It is!” You yelled in his face though he did not flinch. 

“Good.” Before you could blink, his large hands were cupping your face, his fingers lacing through your hair. You barely registered the intimacy of his touch because a breath later, he surged forward and planted a kiss harshly on your lips. 

You started at his touch and his brazen action. Even if you were to attempt to retreat his arm has already encircled you, keeping you held to him as his lips commanded your own. But you didn’t want to pull back

It was the events of the night, you were sure of it. There was no other reason why your arms had found their way around his neck encouraging him. You were hurting, his touch filled the gaping hole in your chest just a little more. To know someone wanted your affection, or at least your touch. You were desirable. Why didn’t Yuuji see that? 

You’re lying. A small voice inside you crowed as Megumi slanted his mouth over yours, deeping your kiss after the placement of your arms around him showed you weren’t resisting his advances. This wasn’t just because you were hurting, that you needed another’s touch. You had found yourself wondering over the past several weeks as you spent more and more time with the dark-haired man who was now running his tongue along your bottom lip, what it would feel like to touch him, to kiss him. To have this arrangement between you be truthful, rather than a ruse to spur your true target into action. What would it be like for Megumi to hold your hand and smile, to send you flowers sincerely instead of keeping up appearances? Was there even a possibility that he felt that way? As his tongue explored your mouth and you reciprocated in kind, albeit clumsily, maybe it could be true. 

This feeling was different. There was a coiling deep in your belly, growing tighter as Megumi’s large hand covered one of your breasts and gently squeezed, finding your nipple through the layers of fabric and teasing until it was a hard nub. You gasped against his mouth at the jolt of pleasure that shot to your core and arched into his touch. This was wrong. You were with a man unchaperoned in the dimly-lit gardens. He was touching you inappropriately, and yet you wanted more. This was an extraordinary sensation, one you never would have thought would come at the hands of Megumi. Why was he expressing such outright desire when you were certain he tolerated you at best?

When Megumi’s hand left your breast you almost whimpered at the loss. It traveled lower down your body, tracing your silhouette over your dress, squeezing any soft place it landed until it was finally behind your knee. You wondered what he was planning, why would his hands stray so far down? It was then he hoisted your leg up so it was around his waist and you were balancing on your other foot. You gasped at your sudden unsteadiness and clung to him more tightly to prevent from falling. Megumi had no time to spare. He attacked your mouth again, commanding your lips for only a brief moment before he broke away again and started kissing down your neck. A whine escaped from you while he sucked on your pulse point then licked up the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin. 

“Megumi.” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice as you moaned his name. His head snapped up at the explicit sound, green eyes flashing with a fire that matched the one growing in your stomach. The prospect of what burns that fire could cause almost scared you. Almost. 

A loud crash caused you both to look over to the entrance of your small hideaway, still clinging to each other like monkeys. You couldn’t bear to let go yet. One of the small statues flanking the arched hedge entrance had fallen, its head broken off as it hit the ground. It was the force which caused the statue to fall in the first place that made you and Megumi both start in horror. 

Yuuji stood at the entrance, his hand outstretched like he had tried to stop it from falling but had been too late. His eyes, however, were fixed on the pair of you and your sordid embrace. You wished you could discern the expression on his face. Shock, obviously. But there was something else behind his eyes. You didn't have a further opportunity for study as he had turned and was running back the way he came before you had finished your breath. 

“Yuuji!” Megumi had released you and started running after him, pausing just for a moment to raise his hand in a ‘wait’ sign to you, and he was gone as well. 

You didn’t allow yourself to wait. You couldn’t. Realization was setting coldly into your bones now at what you had done and what the repercussions would be if anyone were to find out. You were ruined. What would become of you now? Your uncle and aunt had graciously taken you in and treated you like one of their own to give you the opportunity of a life  you never would have never been offered, had you lived with your father. And now, you had taken their generosity and spat on it. Their investment in you was now for naught. 

Your hands shook as you smoothed your hair just enough to be presentable before you ran out of the gardens, around the house and to the carriages waiting out front. People would speak of your absence. It was certain their tongues were already wagging at your outburst against Yuko in the ballroom, but it didn’t matter. All you cared about was getting back home and hiding, Maybe then, you would wake up and find this was all a cruel dream.

taglist: @karamfilmare @gummy-dummy @thewabbit

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[turtle-bun]

Actual things said between me and my brothers as TMNT quotes Pt2: TMNT bois see Across the Spiderverse!

((SPOILERS AHEAD AFTER THE LINE BREAK!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!))

Part 1

Rise!Mikey: *excited stimming and screaming* I WANT THIS MOVIE INJECTED INTO MY VEINS! THE ART WAS SO FUCKING COOL!

Rise!Donnie: *excited stimming but in a monotone voice* I apologize for the person I’m going to become now because this sound track is now my entire personality.

---

12!Mikey: See Across the Spiderverse is so good and is also a huge middle finger to Marvel comics for all the shit they’re putting my boi Spidey through!

12!Leo: Oh yeah, one hundred percent! This movie feels more like how Spiderman is then the actual comics as of late!

12!Mikey: See Marvel! Spiderman can be fucking happy for once!

12!Leo: *chuckling* You got beef with Marvel?

12!Mikey: *riled up* Oh I got so much fucking beef with Marvel! Talking bout how “either Peter Parker’s happy or Spiderman is happy. One always has to be fucked over.” Like get out of here with that bullshit! You saw how happy Peter B. Parker was with Mayday and he’s still Spiderman? FUCK YOU MARVEL IT CAN WORK! PUT ME IN THE GODDAMN WRITTERS ROOM!

12!Leo: *laughing* You think you can write better?

12!Mikey: My 10k word Spiderman fanfic on ao3 with over six thousands kudos begs to differ! SQUARE THE FUCK UP MARVEL!

---

03!Raph: I am so fucking glad they didn’t have a love triangle in this movie. Honest to god I was like lowkey worried about that.

03!Mikey: Oh yeah, for sure. Thank god Hobie was actually cool.

03!Raph: He was so FUCKING cool! Oh my god! Like I know everyone and their mother was fawning over Miguel but honestly I could give less of a shit about him cuz FUCKING SPIDER PUNK! HOLY SHIT!

03!Mikey: *laughing* Is this a “I don’t know if I wanna date him or be him” kind of situation?

03!Raph: It’s a: “I don’t know if I want to slow dance with him at prom or steal his entire gender” type of situation!

---

Bay!Mikey: You guys been hearing this bull shit some people are saying about Spiderverse?

Bay!Donnie: *groaning* Don’t fucking remind me. People are stupid and it’s all over my fucking TikTok and Twitter!

Bay!Leo: Which one? The pissy conservatives complaining about “forced diversity” and “woke” culture? The extreme leftists making it about racism when that literally was NOT the point of the fucking movie? Or is it the transphobes bitching at the mere INSINUATION that Gwen Stacy could actually be trans? LIKE AND IF SHE FUCKING IS?! WHAT THEN CUNT?!

Bay!Raph: You know what? Fuck it! Piss them off even more and in the next movie just full on fucking say it! They can’t handle subtlety so might as well throw it in their faces since they’re complaining about it so much!

Bay!Mikey: Shit, I mean Miles is bi in the comics, he can come out as well!

Bay!Donnie: *super serious voice* Hello Miles Morales, who is bisexual and my love interest, I, Gwen Stacey, am a transgender woman!

Bay!Mikey: *T posing* Omg, Gwen Stacey, who is a transgender woman and my love interest, I, Miles Morales, who is bisexual, appreciate your willingness to trust me enough to share these private conversations with me even though you have absolutely no obligation to do so!

Bay!Leo: *absolutely losing his shit* Oh god it’s like it’s being written by a fucking AI!

Bay!Raph: The first 10 minutes of the movie are them fixing up the dimensional bull shit, then the rest of it is group therapy and coming out stories!

---

87!Leo: *crying, sobbing, screaming*

87!Mikey: How did you NOT know it was a two parter? It said it at the beginning of the movie!

87!Leo: EXCUSE ME FOR GETTING ENGROSSED IN THE SPECTICAL OF EVERYTHING!!!

[alfiely-art]

I’ll go ahead and do it.

Makoto Kagutsuchi. Tell me all your thoughts about our silly little goof.

You have unleashed the beast AAAARGH

I'm gonna follow the number prompts but. Be prepared. This is gonna be long.

Okay before I talk about my first impression, you all need to understand. I went into this game almost entirely blind. The only characters I had seen were Yuma and Shinigami (of course), along with the train detectives, Swank, and the NDA (except Yakou). I also skipped the intro. I had no idea that Makoto existed. So. Imagine. I'm playing the game, all concerned about the NDA, and I(Yuma) wake up in this fancy ass bed. Immediately, I think, "is this some wattpad fanfiction? I've been sold to Raincode BTS....". I walk out of the bedroom. The cutscene starts. This skinny, naked little twink with a funky ass mask takes up my screen, giggles, does a bow, and Immediately my heart is stolen. This funky little guy has taken the top spot of my favorites. And he just continues getting better. He's SO eccentric and SO silly. He's ominous and I've decided he is best boy. Then there's the rest of the middest chapter in the game, and I'm feeling bored, then he takes a good scene with Yomi and makes it EVEN BETTER. Teasing what I thought was the big bad, immediately making all the other characters tense- he just. Commanded everyone's attention, in and out of the game. It's very rare for a character to be able to do that, and he just... does it consistently.

I have so many headcanons guys. Can you believe it. Alfie having headcanons about Makoto. Anyways! I think part of the massive walk-in closet he definitely has is dedicated to masks. The masks on his page in the art book and countless others. He also bleaches his hair. Also, I've talked about this before, but I think he had a similar relationship with the previous CEO that Yuma has with Yakou. A mentor of sorts, but definitely not just a boss and his employee dynamic. Oh, and I think he's got cool fangs. What's the point of being a homunculus if you don't get cool animalistic features. Also he is schizospec. Why? Because he's just like me fr. He's got the schizoid dilemma built into him from the ground up

Legitimately I don't think I have any complaints about Makoto. Like. There was never any point where I wasn't absolutely invested in what he was doing and fawning over him. Okay well actually I do have one complaint. Why don't I get to have gumshoe gabs with him, huh? Let me interact more with him. Maybe Yuma was feverish and shit after Makoto rescued him, so he forgot about their interactions. Please. I need it.

MAKOYUMA RAHHHHHH. Okay sorry I'll be normal. Anyway, I really like makoyuma. Sue me. My very first ship was selfcest, I guess I'm returning to my roots. I shipped them from the very moment Makoto showed up because there was just... so much he was hinting at. Of course, my initial theory was that Yuma was a homunculus and Makoto was either number one or closely related to Number One. But it was clear to me that Yuma and Makoto had SOME sort of connection, and I was right. Chapter five made me jaw drop. DESPITE ME GETTING SPOILED FOR MAKOTOS FACE. thanks Google. I still didn't realize what it meant when I saw it while trying to find a picture of Makoto to send to my friend... so it still shocked me. Anyway, Makoyuma just... has so much to it. Whether you're focusing on fluff or angst or hell, even dead dove shit. They can do it all. They're so complicated and I love them for that. They're very close to my heart. Other Makoto ships I enjoy are Makoyomi and, woah rarepairs, makoto + vivia and makoto + desuhiko. Makoyomi is a looney toons ass toxic yaoi and I think makoto and vivia would have a very interesting dynamic (not necessarily romantic), especially since... Makoto orchestrated Yakou's death. And with Makoto and Desuhiko I just like the idea of these goofballs being wacky.

Overall opinion: I have. Not been this obsessed with a character since Kiibo Danganronpa and Scaramouche Genshin. You know hyperfixations? Its like that. But I'm not autistic so it's not a hyperfixation. And mine involves adopting him into my identity. Permanently. Makoto is exactly the type of character I like and I enjoy him immensely. Stan Makoto!!!!

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

Okay so I saw a post you reblogged a while back with a picture of your ocs. They are absolutely gorgeous and I'd love to know more about them! Is that archangel a boy and do they have history with that demon?? How'd you come up with their names? Aeshma and Talon are so unique!

Oh, dear sweet anon, now you've done it.

*deep inhale*

I don't normally post about my original work, but if I'm asked, I shall speak.

I have been working on Helpless since the beginning of my 9th grad school year. It's a series. A few years ago, my work was published through Palmetto Publishing.

Though, due to them being too apprehensive about having a gay protagonist, I cut ties with them.

I am now working with a publisher out of the UK. Olympia Publishing. I had a lot of other offers, but most of them were vanity publishers. With Olympia, I have all control of what is published.

I did a lot of revisions and book one will be coming out either late this year or early next. It will have a new cover with a different allure. Peep it:

Talon is a boy for sure. He's just graced with beauty. His mother is Aphrodite and his father is Saint Michael. He is the first son of an archangel and goddess. He's gentle and understanding, unlike his father. He spends his time with the garden angels and finds comfort in being outdoors. His father wants him to follow in his footsteps and lead the angelic army alongside him, but Talon doesn't like the idea of war. Pointless bloodshed saddens him and he doesn't understand why either side feels the need to battle over petty disagreements. I often describe him with feminine grace and appearance. He's soft spoken and dignified, but not to the point of arrogance. He is also the only angel in heaven with pink eyes. He's slender and he's 5'9" When I describe him, I mention that he sparkles in the sun like fresh snow. His father keeps him away from his mother so she doesn't influence him to step away from the path of an archangel. Talon is torn between making his father proud and doing what makes him happy. He doesn't want to be a warrior. He wants to work in the gardens.

This is some really old art I have of him. I have to work on some more now that I picked up a new program. The ginger is Fawn. She is Talon's best friend.

Aeshma is a Persian war demon from a place in hell called Khadah. A place in the circle of wrath. His parents are Amara and Angra Mainyu. Both of them are war demons as well. He was bred for battle, starting his training as soon as he could run. His kind have been at war with Michael for years and Angra makes Aeshma a commander in the demonic army. He's cocky but humble. It's very hard to get him to switch from soldier to young demon who wants to have fun. Aeshma is almost seven feet tall and built like a tank. Chocolate brown skin and jade green eyes. He's covered in battle scars. He makes his parents extremely proud. He's a ruthless killer who has taken down kingdoms without the aid of an army. So, when it comes to invading heaven, Aeshma is the one Angra can count on.

A meeting is called by Michael after he invades Khadah and kills Aeshma's sister. Angra accepts and brings a small group of demons with him.

Talon is forced to attend this meeting. None of the angels know that Angra's presence is only a distraction from Aeshma's attack. They don't want peace, they want revenge.

This attack leads to Aeshma breaking into Michael's house and stumbling across Talon. While other demons want to kidnap and sell Talon, Aeshma makes the decision to let him go. Talon is intrigued by Aeshma and even decides to accompany his father to hell where they sign a treaty.

I don't want to give away too much, I could talk for years about this, but I'll just give the basics for now.

Talon and Aeshma start to meet in private. In one of Heaven's abandoned gardens. Eden. Aeshma is there for information and Talon is there to get to know him.

*insert a shit ton more lore and plot here lmfao*

Michael ends up finding out about what Talon has been doing and he imprisons Talon. Talon escapes and Michael's only option is to cast him down. He subdues Talon's angelic powers and strips him of his memory. He kills Talon and has him reborn to a human family. An abusive family that see him as evil because of his paper white skin and pink eyes. He was born to a twin brother, Tyler. Talon ends up with a red streak in his hair. Michael describes it as his physical scarlet letter. And his life will be nothing but pain and suffering.

That's what book one is about. Talon's life as a human. His battle with neglect, abuse and sexual assault. Living in a place where no one wants to help and no one cares. He finds peace in one human, who in fact isn't human. David.

Talon learns all about possessive behavior and psychological abuse without even realizing it until it's too late. He also doesn't realize he's being hunted. While it's subdued, demons and angels can smell Talon's power. Asmodeus and Samael included. He falls into the lust demon's grasp, lured in with the idea of revenge on the people who have hurt him.

All this leads into a hefty series of Talon finding out exactly who and what he is. Royal demon blood is blended with his angelic golden ichor, turning him into a hybrid. One of the most powerful weapons in all creation. And he is faced with a decision. Michael isn't the only angelic threat to Talon and his newfound family. It goes all the way up the political angelic ladder. Being a hybrid and possessing the blood of Michael, Talon is the only one who can bring him down.

There is literally so much that I left out, but hopefully that was enough of a lore drop lmfao

I deeply apologize for the massive info dump, but I am literally so excited about this series, I could cry. I worked so hard on it.

There will be

Helpless

Helpless: Retaliation

Helpless: Revelation

Helpless: Redemption

Helpless: Revolution

And it will all lead up to the release of Divine Chaos which will be all about Talon before his fall.

The names took me forever. I have a shit ton of characters throughout the series. The Dictionary of Demons is a MAJOR life saver when it comes to name and even lore. It's a fantastic book and if you're writing about angels and demons, I seriously recommend it.

[thebestfriendstoloverstrope]

i'm so terrible at finishing fanfics but i really just want a coffee shop/college byler au where will is, just, the cutest barista, and all the girls flock to the coffee shop bc he's just adorable AND makes such cute custom latte art upon request!! and mike (who saw FIRST, thank you very much, he's been pining over will ever since he passed him in the student center on the first day of the semester, and quite frankly fate is on his side when it helped mike find him again at his favorite coffee shop) stews in jealousy while making heart eyes at will from his little corner of the coffee shop, but his heart stays hopeful because 1) will always seems vaguely uncomfortable by all the fawning from the girls, and 2) will always makes pretty latte art for mike without mike even having to ask 🥺

[marengogo]

7 Nation Army - ZONNEBLOEM - Part 2: Living. Loving. Learning.

Listening to INDIGO by RM on repeat.

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

I know I should be listening to playlists tailored to Indigo, in order to help with streaming, and I promise I will from Monday. What has been happening since Friday, is that I haven’t been able to stop listening to the album, day, night, it’s been on repeat and today for the first time I cried at the end of Change pt.2 “You can’t love someone like I do. That’s all I can say to you”. 

In a bit I’ll explain what that particular lyric meant to me. For now though I want to begin with thinking through the entirety of Indigo and its creation span: 2019 - 2022; from when he was 26 until 29. Indigo, thus far, is truly an album that has gone as close to one’s true feelings as an artist like Namjoon can, or rather, is able to. At least for now. 

[Up to this point I was writing with my own feelings ONLY. Then I got the notification of RM 'Indigo' Album Magazine Film which was very profound and kinda confirmed a lot of what i was going to write based on pure speculation. So I watched it and now I’m back to writing.]

If you’ve read a couple of my blogs you might be familiar with my writing style. I have what you would call a storyteller’s style. I think that events, be it a second in a moment, or life in general, have a defined structure, with a start, a mid section, and an end. Such is life after all; we are born, we live and then we die. 

Even within stories that have yet no ending or which start you are unaware of, within the context in which you begin narrating them, that will be your start, the moment you stop, that will be its end. Reason why, for the most part, people tend to love backstories and hate unfinished-stories. 

Backstories give you motive for things, sometimes even a justification if you will, something that you hope can help others better understand you and reasons for the things you do. Whereas unfinished stories are unsettling, the uncertainty-of-it-all is damning and the “what-ifs'' will literally drive someone crazy, because what if it happens to me? What if my story/life turns out to be unfinished? …”

All this just to appreciate and fawn over this man, even more than I already do. This wonderful man whose extreme mental affinity with mine was the reason why I even began to seriously get into BTS in the first place. From what I’ve gathered thus far, when it comes to creating art, we have a similar thought process, which is the storytelling approach that I’ve been talking about. 

There is a reason. Yup. And I felt it. From the moment he told us that this was “the last archive of my twenties” and then when he went even in more depth and explained that this was the period “from him being 26 to 29”, made even more sense why it felt like the 10 tracks seemed to be a natural progression with Yun being a Prologue and No.2 being an Epilogue to this chapter in his life.

If you watch RM 'Indigo' Album Magazine Film  he indeed goes very much in depth, and does confirm and explain about the times and ages of when he wrote some of the songs. If you think about it, his twenties began when they debuted in 2013 and up to circa 2016, all they had been doing, saying and singing was more or less a reflection of the people they were and they hoped to become; and then entered WINGS. The Wings Era was probably the first time they noticed that the face they saw in the more wasn’t themselves but some sort of mask.

This song being “Wild Flower”, basically Namjoon has been struggling for the majority of his 20s and no thanks to COVID. 2018, they survived disbandment. 2019, was supposed to be the beginning of their Chapter 2. Come 2020, the world would halt and he would have to keep living with this emotion, added to new ones, until now, 2022. 

And oh I find it so fitting that the person who produced (and co-wrote) “Wild Flower” is DOCSKIM, the same producer for “Lie” and “Outro: Tear”. It really makes so much sense. 

And can you imagine being the reason for another artist to not give up art? I mean! This man is the reason why Jimin could give a voice to his turmoil and our rapline could put their suffering to bed. He is a genius to me! Yet, he is human and like a flower he needed some water, among the many things, to keep flourishing, same as Namjoon, same as me, same as you.

Namjoon proceeds by saying that he wrote frog_tful at the age of 26, so in 2019. The whole conversation with him and Kim Sawol was so interesting and insightful. That aside, what really stood out for me is him mentioning and drilling in the fact that he has close friends, who aren’t the members. I do feel that sometimes this fandom has the notion that the members, except for Tae, only have each other. In reality, Jin aside, they all seem to have quite the big circle of close friends, famous and not. 

This to once again underline just how much we don’t know about their personal lives or just themselves as a whole. But isn’t this great?! Isn’t it great that somehow unbeknownst to us they still try their best to live, love and learn? This is literally what this album is about: The chronicles of Kim Namjoon’s living, loving and learning stories 2019-2022, and some. 

And amongst many other points (such as him hating hotel rooms) another point that was stressed in this album was that “Things change. People change. Everything change”. Yes. He did change and keeps changing. Who doesn’t? That is a direct reaction from the action of living. It’s the result of allowing yourself to love, and be loved and just as well as to hurt and be hurt. And after all that, there is always a lesson to be learned; now whether you attend that class or not, it’s entirely up to you. All shade, lately I’ve been strongly feeling that some ARMY could indeed use a closer look to the lyrics of this song, matter of fact, the entire album … jussayin.

 “You can’t love someone like I do. That’s all I can say to you”. Guess what? The same goes for everyone on this planet and this just seems to get lost in translation every fucking time. Don’t pardon my French. Love, love, love; can’t live with it, can’t live without it. There is a particular person in my family that keeps not understanding how much I love them, I'm pretty sure they think I don’t: how am I supposed to come out to them and have them understand the way I love when they don’t seem to understand even the basic form of it?

Yeah … I hope people understand how hard it is to live trapped in a room with your own Truth, constantly begging you to let them be free. “Set the Truth free and the truth will set you free” so they say, some heavy ass catch 22 uh? Honestly, I could go on and on and on talking about this album. In conclusion, I have been waiting for an album like this. Something that would keep me and my Truth company while we try to figure things out through all those times.

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💙,

Marengo.

I promise I have forgotten of WWH, I just needed this to be out before I tried to catch some more sleep.

[cloudiilink]

I posted 1,446 times in 2022

That's 260 more posts than 2021!

829 posts created (57%)

617 posts reblogged (43%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cloudiilink

@twink-between-worlds

@luwyv

@author-main

@secretlysheikah

I tagged 1,060 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#link rambles - 602 posts

#link answers - 130 posts

#link isn't vibing - 85 posts

#srb - 67 posts

#fanart - 43 posts

#link doodles - 39 posts

#link plays - 29 posts

#digital art - 26 posts

#ravio my beloved - 23 posts

#anya my beloved - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#luwvy in my inbox?? hi- i still cant believe we're mutuals- hi- im too nervous to actually send you asks and stuff but you seem really cool

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Birds and Fairies

@oshiesauce

I was your secret santa for the LU secret santa event! I hope you like it! The main gist is Sky wants to hold little birds n Time gets surrounded by fairies-

(The fic is under the cut so this isn't an ungodly long post)

Sky loved Wild's Hyrule.

The walking? The despised.

The weather? He also despised it. The unpredictable rain was what he despised- he was never used to it raining.

The view? He loved it. The mountains in the distance. The noticeable changes in terrain and weather in the distance. It was beautiful.

However, the one thing he adored the most were birds.

Sky could spend hours just looking at all the birds. All the little ones. All the Pigeons. All the herons. Even the cuccos. His favourite though, were the little ones he was told were called sparrows- blue sparrows specifically. It had been a while since he had seen blue little birds, but it was even longer since the last time he saw Sun's loftwing.

Oh, how he hated the massive blue birds morning wake ups but he missed Sun being there to apologise about it.

The first time they had spotted them was on the way to Kakariko Village. The path was long. And boring. Until Sky saw the sparrows.

He stopped the chain and kneeled down a couple of metres from the birds.

Oh they were so tiny.

So tiny and cute.

Sky had the whole chain stop multiple times so he could spend five minutes staring in awe at the birds.

He had tried to reach out a few times to try to pick them up. They were so small. He could fit one of the sparrows in one hand, easily.

The first dozen or so attempts absolutely failed. He was absolutely devastated about it too, needing a couple moments to recover.

Then, the little sparrows figured out the Hero meant no harm.

They didn't let him pick them up at first though when they figured out he meant no harm. Why would they? They didn't know whether the intentions of the Hero were pure. The little birds could hope, but hoping didn't save them. Trusting their instincts did.

Sky didn't mind that he couldn't pick the little sparrows up though.

The chain, however, did. They found it adorable at first, after all, what could be cuter than the resident sleepyhead kneeling near the birds and near enough in tears over them? Probably nothing. They got fed up with having to stop every couple of metres for Sky to admire the little sparrows.

It took them nearly an hour to get through half of the canyon path.

If they didn't keep stopping for Sky to admire the sparrows, they could've been minutes away from Kakariko by now. Or even in the soft beds of the inn.

Oh how most of them would've killed to be in a soft bed by now.

Most of them definitely blamed Sky for this, despite understanding why he reacted like this. After all, wouldn't you fawn over how small the birds are from seeing only Loftwings and the small birds of the surface?

They understood. They almost wanted to leave Sky behind, after all, Wild had told them it was a straight path to Kakariko when they got into the Canyon.

They couldn't leave Sky behind. It wouldn't be right, especially with how it was starting to get dark.

Wild warned them that despite the stalkoblins being easy to defeat, Sky had no experience fighting his stal monsters. They couldn't leave him alone, but they couldn't split up as they needed Wild to show them where the inn was.

Sky and his adoration for little birds was frustrating.

See the full post

76 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#4

Just a sketch dump because I need to post art lmao

Have Time, one I started doodling him in Malons dress, the other was just a de-stress doodle of him fishing the fishing game in oot is kinda relaxing but annoying

Have doodles of Four in the minish clothing because it's cute. You can't tell me he didn't try it on as a kid/ owns at least one outfit maybe he asked it to be tailor made or asked Legend to make it if we follow headcannons

See the full post

86 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

#3

can you draw Malon? :D I bet she’d look so pretty in your art style/gen <3

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to answer- but here she is 💞

I haven't actually sketched in a hot minute but Malon beloved

96 notes - Posted July 7, 2022

#2

Can you draw your butchered Sky? He’s rlly pretty!!

Ty for requesting butchered sky 💞💞💞 I've been meaning to draw him actually but i didn't know how so... Panel redraw?

Btw I'm sorry it's taken me a few days, life sucks

Idk I'm bad with side profiles/action poses

Here's the panel:

See the full post

111 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Just a doodle of Four to try get used to the tablet(...again).

I do not like the tablet but I need to try use it because my laptop is... Unreliable lol

*holds four gently* lmao

I started it a while ago but only just finished it lol- don't even know where this was going when I started originally

117 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[giselefms]

𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐔

  GEMMA CHAN | FORTY-THREE | CISFEMALE.  welcome to san francisco, GISELE ZHOU! just to make sure, you go by SHE/HER, right? okay, great. i just have a few questions for you before i can let you go..  how long have you been here for? TEN YEARS. where are you currently living? MARINA DISTRICT. what’s your current occupation? ARTISTIC DIRECTOR at/of SAN FRANCISCO BALLET but what’s your dream occupation? SHE HAS LIVED HER DREAM, BUT IT WAS TAKEN AWAY FROM HER. wow! interesting. is there a secret that we can keep between you and i? SHE HAS NOT SPOKEN TO HER MOTHER SINCE SHE TURNED EIGHTEEN. lastly, this is a bit of a random question but … what’s your favorite song? GODDESS by BANKS & that’s all they wrote, friend! we can’t wait to see you around the golden city! LOVED BY MEL.

  ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"In a world that wants women to whisper, I choose to yell." — Luvvie Ajayi.

TRIGGER WARNING: physical abuse, alcoholism, body image issues, self hate, infertility, pregnancy

BIOGRAPHY

Gisele Zhou was an other from the very moment she was born, despite the years that she's spent trying to deny it. Somehow, some way, in her mind if she throws just the right sum of money at it -- her past will disappear into the void. It is certainly not the case as she will never not be from London, England, the daughter of a single mother who cleaned houses of some of the richest people in the city. Despite her multiple assignments, Rebecca Zhou struggled to keep both herself and her daughter above water, floundering in water bills, phone bills, private schooling. It was also her mother who put Gisele in her very first dance class: insisting that a girl needs something to give her a purpose. As much as Gisele and her mother got along at times as well as oil and water -- the six year old complied. She didn't know just how much she'd lose herself in the art form, spending countless hours manufacturing her craft until every single step, every single turn was picture perfect.

She had barely set foot into her teen years when people began to notice her potential as a dancer -- teachers subconsciously acknowledging her and spending every single waking moment outside of her lesson time working with the young woman. Perhaps something that Gisele did not understand at the time was that she had been born with a gift. Even if she was publicly recognized as the best of the best, the next generation of ballet, never once did she let that get to her head. The young woman remained kind and gentle, well, to everyone but herself. She would never say it out loud -- fearing that those around her would lose faith in her, but she hated the person that she saw in the mirror. Loathed her, actually. While everyone else fawned over her -- she never understood it. Even if she had dozens of people telling her how good she was, how beautiful she was, she could never truly hear it in her own mind. This hasn't changed, even at the tender age of forty-three.

Her world would be rocked as she knew it, however, when at the age of fifteen -- her mother replaced the door of their home with one that revolved, various men from different walks of life wandering in and out as they pleased. Many of them were there one night and gone before Gisele could even blink. It was a reality that she became used to for a while, knowing that her mother had spent years putting her first instead of herself. That is, until a man by the name of Isaac Foster made his appearance. Once. Than twice. By the time Gisele caught him stumbling out the door in the middle of the night for a third time, she knew something was up. Behind closed doors -- Isaac was a drunk. Not only that, but he soon began to show his true colors when be became physically violent with both Gisele and her mother. Giselle fought for her mother to realize just how terrible things had gotten, how truly cruel he could be, but she had become so used to accepting his apologies and beginning the cycle all over again. Shortly after Gisele's eighteenth birthday, with significant planning -- Gisele got out. Armed with an acceptance letter to Julliard and with a place to stay at her grandmothers, Gisele was ready to begin a new life, the one she deserved.

Graduation came quickly -- once just a speck on the horizon but now a blistering reality. The next chapter was uncertain for a couple years, until it was secured again thanks to a successful audition to the Paris Opera Ballet. Despite building a promenant career in Europe, she never called her mother. A foundation was built before quickly being torn down after a career ending injury occurred in rehearsal before she was set to perform in one of the biggest roles in her life. If only her partner hadn't fucking hesitated. Embarrassed, heartbroken and ruined -- Gisele left Paris behind her, uncertain once more before finally settling in San Francisco shortly after taking another overwhelming blow -- she would never be able to bring children of her own into the world. It was a blow she still doesn't know how to take, wanting desperately to give a child a better home than she ever had. Even still, she keeps up appearances for the sake of her already spiraling reputation: desperate to make something of herself.

HEADCANONS

Joined the staff of the San Francisco Ballet seven years ago. It is no secret that she loves working with her dancers, but it's even less of a secret that she is a strict teacher.

After living in an apartment building that appeared to barely be keeping itself together -- Gisele moved into her place in the Marina District about six years ago. It's the closest thing she's ever felt to home.

Most frequently can be found in the studio ( it's been that way her whole life -- both when she was a dancer and one of the creatives ), but will occasionally be found at a bar alone, rummaging through the shelves of one of San Francisco's bookstores or exploring any of the natural lands.

Her kindness can often be offset by a blinding sense of perfectionism, but she truly means well. If you have managed to get past her walls: she will go to the ends of the earth for you. When she loves, she loves hard.

Very often will put others first before herself.

MORE TO COME.

PLAYLIST

Overdrive - Maggie Rogers

Family Line - Conan Gray

Chaotic - Tate Mcrae

Wake Up - EDEN

Everything to Everyone - Renee Rapp

You Missed My Heart - Phoebe Bridgers

Oblivion - Bastille

Doomsday - Lizzy Mcalpine

Carmen - Lana Del Rey

Killer Queen - Queen

You Don't Own Me - SAYGRACE

Monsters - Ruelle

Mount Everest - Labrinth

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Coworkers

Friends

Roommate

Love Interest

Friends with Benifits

Exes

Any! I'm flexible and ready to right lots of super awesome stuff with you all.

** Connections page will be coming soon - when I'm not being a lazy little shit.

[amaya-writes]

Hello. I saw that you have reached 2000 followers and I wanted to congratulate you on your milestone. So, congratulations, Amaya. You are a very nice person and I like how you write. :)

If possible, could I perhaps ask for a slot on the event you are hosting?

Pairing: Juuzou Suzuya x Reader

AU of choice: Roomate AU

Genre of preference: fluff

Thank you in advance, I hope you have a great day. I apologise for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Event Masterlist About The Event

Notes: I went for hcs since I had a couple of ideas for this

Warnings: slight spoilers for season 3 and a certain someone's death

Characters involved: Juuzou Suzuya

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Juuzou is surprisingly a nice roommate to be around.

Neither of you really wanted to be roomed with one another but the CCG was a little tight on funding and had to change up the accommodation for the year.

And to this day you swear there was a time near the first couple days of your shift when you woke up in the middle of the night to see Juuzou near the foot of your bed with his Quinque.

He's always cleaning up after himself and there are often days where he only returns to the apartment to crash into his bed without so much as a greeting.

But it is this very fact that brings the two of you together.

It started off with you simply cooking meals for both of you once you realized Juuzou didn't really know how to do much except use the microwave.

But quickly turned into shrink-wrapped plates of food set on the dining table for the days when Juuzou returned home too late and tired to be worried about his appetite.

Your relationship was the unspoken kind; Juuzou never questioned why you were so nice to him and you never asked why a grown man didn't know how to take care of himself yet.

The two of you were like binaural stars that constantly rotated around one another but never quite crossed paths. Up until Juuzou's first week off.

The CCG had given a holiday to almost all of the investigators and without any work to run to the two of you were all but forced to talk to each other.

Your conversations were always casual, neither bothered to talk about sensitive topics like the past or work and chose to instead try and get to know each other.

You found out he liked art, he learned about your desire to buy a bookshelf to store the ever-growing pile of novels on your desk. The two of you fawned over your love for cats for a while and even contemplated adopting one.

Before he knew it Juuzou was comfortable enough to casually drop by your office at work to rant about the new things he was working on or tug you along to the sweet shop across the street.

Saturday nights spent curled up on your own beds had turned into hangout sessions at cat cafes and movie nights where he would dramatically jump onto your side of the couch in a manner that was far scarier than the horror movies he would often put on.

Neither of you ever bothered to acknowledge your relationship or put a label on things, but there was no denying that the two of you were awfully close to one another.

Maybe that was why you felt so awfully helpless for the week after Shinohara's death where Juuzou locked himself in his room and refused to come out.

He had started accepting the plates of food you left outside his door on the fifth day, and by the seventh you were certain you could see a sulking figure stumble between the bathroom and his bedroom.

On the tenth day you woke up to a sobbing Juuzou sitting by the front door with his Quinque dripping blood and body covered in sweat, mud and rainwater.

You knew he had been sent on a mission that day but hadn't bothered to ask which ghoul he had slaughtered in his wrath to avenge his mentor. Your only thought at the sight of his sobbing frame curling in on himself was to help the man before you.

Getting him to take a warm bath was a struggle in itself but after a little bit of consoling you had convinced him to at least scrub away the mud from under his fingernails and change into the white and red pyjama set Shinohara had gifted him for Christmas.

You dashed around the kitchen as he cleaned himself off, whipping up the fastest curry you had ever made in your life just as a small thump had you racing to the other side of the apartment.

He had wordlessly dropped onto his bed, with his ominous silence and wet hair helping paint a picture that brought tears to your own eyes.

Juuzou didn't speak once even as you took a seat beside him and spoon-fed him with delicate whispers about how you knew he hadn't eaten yet.

It was only when you began to take your leave with promises of seeing each other the next morning that he finally spoke.

"Stay."

The word was but a croaked whisper silent enough for you to almost miss it, but there was no mistaking the weight his simple request held.

Juuzou was finally willing to let someone except Shinohara in, to allow himself to show you more than his excitable child-like personality, and you weren't cruel enough to shut him out when he needed you most.

So stay you did. Choosing to abandon the curry bowl on his bedside table as you crawled under the covers and held your shivering roommate close to your side.

Your hand almost automatically shifted to card through his white locks as you slowly detangled them while the other held him close.

Neither of you bothered to talk about the teardrops staining your collarbone as Juuzou silently wept a final time, and you didn't acknowledge the way his hands desperately clung to your night shirt either.

Come morning you repeated the process you had gone through the night before. You forced Juuzou to clean up while you cooked breakfast, and softly carded your fingers through his hair later in the morning.

He didn't say much throughout the day, but you could tell Juuzou appreciated your efforts to put on the new episode of his favourite show and ordered takeout from the place across the street, making sure to get extra fortune cookies because you knew he liked how they tasted.

Juuzou went back to normal the next day, or at least tried to. He all but avoided you at work and kept his distance at the apartment, but come nightfall he quietly tugged you back to his room and once again clung to your form as your fingers carded through his hair.

By the time the weekend rolled around and Juuzou once again became his usual bubbly self, it had become normal for the two of you to sleep together in his room.

Some days you would listen to him ramble about the most random things, others he would quietly play with your fingers while you ranted about how annoying a certain coworker was.

The two of you were always careful to stray away from topics you knew were too sensitive; you never asked and he stopped worrying about the day you would.

You didn't know when you started catching feelings for him.

Maybe it was the first time he let you do his hair or the day the two of you decided to adopt a small black kitten you found outside your apartment complex.

Or maybe you had simply developed the feelings throughout your time together and only realised it recently.

Whatever the reason might have been, there was no denying the fact that you had completely fallen for Juuzou Suzuya.

The thought was as jarring as it was comforting. You were happy that it was Juuzou of all people, but that very fact was what terrified you. For Juuzou had never expressed any interest in romance.

Maybe that was why you started subtly distancing yourself little by little.

Juuzou realised something was wrong and was quick to confront you. He didn't react like what you had expected. He was more indifferent if anything and simply made it clear that while like you in a similar way, he wasn't one for physical intimacy.

Just like always, you didn't bother with labels or explanations for your affection, because you didn't have to.

[yanderes-galore]

Since you are writing for IDV again, could you make Peacock!Edgar headcanons? I saw some anons write about him and it made me curious about your ideas about him 🦚

Oh sure!

Yandere! Peacock Hybrid! Edgar Valden Concept

Possible Trigger Warnings: Yandere behavior, Manipulation, Implied NSFW painting if you squint, Sadism, Stalking, Obsession.

- Edgar as a Peacock fits his personality and profession well.

- He is no show bird like Mike, no, he's much more professional.

- He could never stoop to such a level.

- Edgar is a famous peacock hybrid who is known for his beauty and paintings.

- Many people, human and hybrid alike, flock to him in earnest.

- He preens his feathers before going out, making sure his clothes are in proper shape.

- Edgar's paintings have been featured in many art galleries and are highly sought after.

- He's been so invested in his craft he's never even considered the concept of 'love'.

- Heats are never usually a problem with him.

- He's learned it's best to clear his mind and ignore such animalistic tendencies.

- Edgar has a huge amount of ego and pride.

- You may be a fan of him, but aren't one to kneel down and kiss the ground he walks on.

- He at first doesn't think much of it.

- The peacock has much better things to attend to.

- Then... he keeps thinking of you.

- He just doesn't get it.

- Why should one person not fawning over him make him act this way?

- Maybe he's self conscious, secretly a people pleaser at heart wrapped in ego.

- Or maybe he wants to make a point.

- Either way he makes it a goal to please you.

- Edgar's not going to beg.

- But he will make your life hell all so he can satisfy some twisted curiosity.

- The peacock wants to see just what makes you different.

- After hours, when he's alone, he paints pictures of you when his mind wanders.

- They're private and never shown to anyone else but him.

- By this point it's clear he has an obsession, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

- Kidnapping is simply too brutish for a dignified hybrid like him.

- Manipulation and blackmail is more of the peacock's style.

- Murder is also not to his taste.

- But the peacock does enjoy seeing others suffer.

- You've managed to pry this peacock from his paintings to experience a new feeling.

- Obsession.

- There'll be consequences for this, he's sure of it.

[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

----------

Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

[sagurus]

Regarding a Common Misconception of Hakuba Saguru

Lately I've been doing some reflecting on Saguru & the various ways I've seen him portrayed, as well as the ways I've portrayed him in the past. And then I was rereading some MK manga, and had some realizations. I've been feeling like rambling about them! So here I go, rambling.

[Disclaimer: I'm not personally taking issue with anyone's interpretation or impression of Saguru - just sharing my own impressions! This is just for fun <3 ]

Misconception: Saguru is constantly accusing Kaito of being KID

It’s a generally accepted fact in a lot of fics I’ve read (and honestly, maybe some fics I’ve written -- I used to hold this belief too!) that Saguru just unendingly insinuates that Kaito is KID--alone, in front of other people, always.

I won’t cite any here, but I’ve seen nods in fanwork to Aoko feeling a little stressed/frustrated about the fact that Saguru thinks Kaito is KID and makes it known. I’ve also seen fanwork where Saguru explicitly calls Kaito KID, presses Kaito for information, or otherwise makes his beliefs clear, even when others are around.

There are only five scenes in the Magic Kaito manga where Saguru makes direct indication toward his knowledge of KID’s identity.

First, of course, we’ve got chapter 17 - the first chapter where Saguru puts together that Kaito is KID.

For a long time, when I’d consumed more fic than MK canon, I recall an image born in my head of Saguru singling Kaito out in class and making the claim that Kaito is KID in front of everybody. I don’t know if I ever read any such allusion in a fic, or if it’s just an assumption I drew based on portrayals I read, but imagine my surprise when he does nothing of the sort.

Now, to be fair, Saguru is A LOT in this chapter. MK is still heavily in gag manga territory, so his behavior is extra extra played up. But if we take away the visuals, the dialogue between Saguru and Kaito can be summed up thusly:

[First scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: You look so tired. Haven’t gotten enough sleep after chasing KID for three nights In a row, huh?

Saguru: Hmph. Aren’t you tired as well?

And then, a few beats later in the conversation:

Saguru: I’d like to invite you to the Ochima Art Museum tonight, where KID’s declared his next target. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: Then, you’ll understand why I’m so tired. Or, do you have other plans tonight? Kaito: Okay, I accept your invitation. It’ll be great to see your work in action!

And that’s it, that’s the big class confrontation. Aoko is present for it, but she’s more interested in joining in on the fun, and while I do think Aoko pieces together that Kaito is KID, she prefers to live in willful ignorance of it until it becomes impossible for her to ignore. She’s bright enough to pick up what Saguru’s implying, but because he never brings it past implication, there’s no reason for her to look at it too hard. Anyway, I digress. That’s conjecture and headcanon talking. My point is that Saguru never makes any explicit claims, just invites Kaito along to the heist.

Another neat thing about this scene is that--while certainly not motivated by mercy in this case, Saguru does give Kaito an out: “Or, do you have an excuse not to go tonight?” Of course, if Kaito took it, it would be rather damning, but I do think it would have been enough confirmation for Saguru. I don’t think there would have been any arm-twisting to get Kaito to agree.

But Kaito and Saguru are competitive bastards, so here we are.

Let’s move on to the heist!

Once again, the manga certainly plays up the whole ordeal. Saguru is intense and waiting for his moment, and Kaito’s being, well, Kaito.

At the heist, there are a few points where Saguru has opportunities to make allusions to Kaito being KID in a way others would pick up on, or otherwise make his suspicions known, but he doesn’t.

First of all, is this exchange:

Nakamori: Why are you guys here? Aoko: Hakuba-kun invited us! Nakamori: What’s the meaning of this, Hakuba-kun? Saguru: I thought she might like to see if KID is arrested tonight. Nakamori: You’ll fail if you’re too cocky! Saguru: We’re well-prepared. Besides, who knows… KID may already be here.

Saguru does imply KID could be present, but he makes no indication that he means Kaito. His next opportunity to hint at Kaito being KID or otherwise make accusations is when Nakamori asks him to consult as a magician.

Nakamori: Kaito, since you’re here, do you want to use your magic against KID? Kaito: [laughing sheepishly] Saguru: Oh, I want to see that fight, too. If you really can do it.

Needling, yes. Saguru knows what he’s saying and so does Kaito. Accusations, no. This is well within the realm of something Saguru would have said even if he didn’t suspect Kaito, considering their dynamic up until this point.

And then, the most explicit Saguru ever gets in terms of literally calling Kaito out as being KID, beginning when Kaito excuses himself to go to the bathroom right before the heist:

[Second scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [handcuffs himself to Kaito] Kaito: Huh? Saguru: I won’t let you do that, Kuroba. Kaito: What do you think you’re doing?! Saguru: I got the report back from the lab. The hair I got from KID indicated that he’s a high school student. After I compared KID’s data with other high school students’ data in the database… Kuroba Kaito came up in the final list. Kaito: That’s a coincidence. Saguru: Really? We’ll see soon enough. Let’s wait until the time KID is stated to come. [Some heist hubbub occurs as officers get into position even though KID hasn’t arrived at the heist time] Aoko: What? KID’s not coming? Saguru: Ha! It looks like I win! You’d better confess who you really are.

And from there, of course, ‘KID’ (Akako in disguise) swoops in and takes care of the heist. That more or less wraps up chapter 17, the first chapter where Saguru understands that Kaito is KID. And I would argue this is the most aggressive Saguru ever is. In fact, rather than persist in trying to accuse/capture/implicate Kaito as KID, he straight up vanishes from the narrative for several chapters.

Saguru doesn’t show up again until the Chat Noir heist, in chapter 25, when he calls from France.

It’s also important to note that at this point, Magic Kaito’s narrative has experienced a slight tonal shift. At the very least, while still often comedic, it reads less like a gag manga. Between the last time we saw Saguru and now, we’ve learned the apparent motivation behind Toichi’s murder, we’ve met Snake (an albeit rather incompetent villain) and Kaito has faced down gunfire and the danger posed by Snake and his men.

The way Saguru is portrayed has also shifted to reflect the shift too. Instead of a hulking antagonist-like character in a Holmes cosplay, he’s dressed primly and presents more as a cheeky but polite character. He’s also more effectively emulating the charm that the story tried to imply he had early on (“Hakuba Saguru, at your service!”, the girls in class fawning over him, the newspaper calling him out as a famous detective making a long-awaited return to Japan).

The interaction is entirely less antagonistic, too. For reference, I’ll paste the exchange (sans Saguru’s massive info dump) below.

[Third scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

[At the heist for the golden eye] Kaito: [Hiding in a bathroom stall while putting on a disguise] [His phone starts ringing] Hello…? Saguru: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you still alive? Kaito: [Thinking] This sugary yet obnoxious tone of voice is... Hakuba?! Saguru: You’ve made quite the stir in Paris. They’re all talking about how France’s Chat Noir is going to go up against you in Japan. Kaito: Idiot! It’s not me. It’s Kaitou KID! Saguru: Ha… it doesn’t really matter. I’ll share some information that I gathered over here. [Info dump cut from dialogue] Well! That’s about all I have to say. Do your best. I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself. Kaito: Like I’ve been saying, I’m not KID! Saguru: Oops, it’s almost time for the Paris Fashion Week. See you! Kaito: H-hey…

The only part of this conversation that I could consider to fall into the territory of antagonistic is when Saguru says “I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself.” And more than anything, I think this is less reflective of a real desire to capture Kaito, and more reflective of his competitive nature. Not to mention, within the context of the conversation, it feels much more like teasing than anything.

Saguru’s motivation for making the call is clear: He doesn’t want Kaito to lose, and he wants to help ensure Kaito’s success.

And most interestingly (although I’d like to see the raw manga to confirm this, or otherwise a more literal translation) he never explicitly calls Kaito KID either. Outside of alluding to KID’s actions, Saguru doesn’t explicitly say Kaito is KID or mention KID at all. It’s Kaito who does that.

When Kaito points out that he is not, in fact, KID, Saguru doesn’t argue. He simply brushes off the denial and shares the information he’s collected.

So, to summarize what we’ve covered so far: after Saguru failed to arrest Kaito during chapter 17, he stopped troubling Kaito so thoroughly that the next time he features in the story isn’t until he’s calling from overseas to try to lend Kaito some helpful information. He’s not even playing a part in trying to capture this thief he allegedly wants to catch.

And then, Saguru dips back out of the narrative, although for a shorter period this time. The next arc he appears in is a few chapters later--the Nightmare Heist which he arrives in the middle of. But, there’s not any interaction between him and Kaito, nor any allusions made by Saguru about KID’s identity, so we’ll move on.

The fourth time Saguru makes any indication that Kaito is KID is during the Corbeau arc, when KID is being challenged by a clad-in-black KID lookalike.

Before jumping into that specific scene, though, there’s another interaction I’d like to call attention to--between Saguru and Nakamori. Not because of something Saguru says, but because of what he doesn’t say.

Nakamori: Hahaha! Looks like you let your guard down because you thought I was at home with a cold! Saguru: Our plan succeeded, it seems. Nakamori: But I only told Aoko I had a cold, so how does KID know…? Saguru: Hm...

If Saguru were wanting to make some kind of accusation, even a non-explicit one, he would have made some remark. Instead, he doesn’t say anything at all, which continues to speak to the fact that he isn’t really interested in implicating Kaito.

Anyway, the next time Saguru makes any sort of implication that Kaito is KID he is, once again, trying to help. Last time it was over the phone, so the conversation was private. This time, the conversation is in a classroom, although based on the panels, it seems like Saguru and Kaito are alone at the beginning--or at least, no attention is being paid to them.

[Fourth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: [Talking to himself] It must be the case, there’s no other way. There must have been some trick with the case.

Saguru: [Eavesdropping, apparently alone in the room with him] The case didn’t contain any hidden mechanisms. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: No hidden doors or things like that, as are often used in magic tricks. Kaito: W-what on earth are you talking about? Saguru: A new notice from Corbeau arrived this morning. ‘I’ll come and take the real Midnight Crow tonight.’ My name is Hakuba--so I don’t want a ‘white’ person to lose to some ominous black crow. [From here, Akako and then Aoko jump into the conversation.]

Surely a classroom is a risky place to have a conversation about KID, but the nice thing is that Saguru--once again--doesn’t bring up KID at all beyond saying that he doesn’t want the ‘white[-clad] person’ to lose to the black crow. From the outside looking in, all he’s doing is sharing information about the case with Kaito. It may also seem unwarranted from that perspective, but not at all implicating.

Also, another thing I’d like to call attention to is that when Akako joins the conversation (and seemingly blindsides Saguru, as if he wasn’t expecting anyone else to join), Saguru stops talking. He continues to be quiet when Aoko chimes in, and he doesn’t have any relevant dialogue for the rest of the scene.

Once again, Saguru’s clearly motivated to share information in the interest of helping Kaito. He has to share with Kaito’s civilian identity, since he can’t exactly arrange a conversation with KID, and this is likely the easiest way for him to do it. He makes no accusations, and this time he doesn’t even imply he wants KID caught.

So--Saguru is a part of the narrative again, but since rejoining the narrative he seems less interested in actually catching KID and far more interested in helping Kaito. And no accusations or incriminating allusions have been made since chapter 17, before Saguru’s first hiatus from the story.

The final time Saguru nods to Kaito being KID is from the Sun Halo arc. This is probably the interaction that’s closest to what fanon tends to depict when it comes to Saguru making subtle accusations that Kaito is KID. And even then, I tend to take this arc with a grain of salt if only because it felt less like Gosho was trying to add to the story and more like he was just trying to make a Magic Kaito addition that hit various fan expectations while still being wildly disappointing, lmao.

[Fifth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [approaching and commenting on Kaito’s motorcycle] I see, a Suzuki GSX 250R. Akako: Ah, Hakuba-kun… Saguru: You’ve shown me something interesting. Perhaps this might help the police tonight. And could it be that you’ve forgotten… that the only motorised bikes we’re allowed to ride to school are scooters? Kaito: Eh?! For real?!

Once again, Saguru doesn’t explicitly mention KID at all--and segues from his mention of the police to pointing out that Kaito is breaking the rules right now, actually, which helps blend this teasing comment into the conversation.

Yes, later in the chapter Saguru does show up with a team of motorcycle experts. But that also means there’s more disguise opportunities for KID and more factors to account for, thus complicating things for, well, everyone--not just KID.

Also, I tend to dismiss that as Gosho throwing in some comedy, and as less to do with Saguru’s character. Call it cherrypicking if you like :P

To recount--there are five times where Saguru implies Kaito is KID.

The first two are in chapter 17, when Saguru first puts it together, and it is during this chapter that he gets the most explicit about calling Kaito out as KID, as well as the most aggressively he behaves about it. And he backs off so hard after that doesn’t work, that we don’t see him for several chapters.

The next two times he implies Kaito is KID are both in order to help him. No aggression or accusations, just the sharing of information. Even when teasing or suggesting he’s interested in catching KID, he’s good-natured about it, and when he realizes there are potentially people witnessing the conversation, he stops participating.

The final time he implies Kaito is KID is a tiny comment about finding something Kaito has shown him ‘interesting’ and ‘helpful for the police’ before smoothing into gently teasing Kaito for bringing an illegal vehicle to school.

In conclusion, Saguru may start off apparently aggressive in part thanks to early Magic Kaito’s overall tone, but rather than persevering in trying to catch Kaito after cornering him in chapter 17, he actually seems to back off. Once he’s playing a part in the narrative again, when he interacts with Kaito it’s almost exclusively to help him. Yes, he is on the task force and participating at heists, but where it matters, he’s less interested in catching the thief and far more interested in those the thief is opposing (excluding the police force).