#KRAIG

[tredlocity]

[platossoulmates]

they worked it out on the remix (in their conjoined bedrooms)

[mangosoart]

the conductor of the poop train~

(10/2020)

[kaitcreates]

Beatriz

Kraig

[secretsdeblackthornhall]

Lettre de Kieran

A l’attention de : Julian Blackthorn de Blackthorn Hall

De la part de : La Cour des Ténèbres

Mon cher frère,

Mon visage s’illumine toujours d’un sourire quand je reçois de la correspondance de Blackthorn Hall, et cette occasion ne fait pas exception. Mark m’a transmis ta question, et je suis ravi d’y répondre, bien que ma réponse, je le crains fort, ne soit peut-être pas des plus réjouissantes pour toi.

Comme tu le sais, les frontières du Royaume des Fées sont floues et irrégulières, et aucune âme ne peut connaitre toute la mesure de son étendue, puisqu’il s’étend au nord, au sud, à l’est et à l’ouest à l’infini. Et comme tu le sais également, une telle immensité peut contenir un nombre incalculable de citoyens, du plus petit sylphe sur sa monture-insecte aillée, au plus immense ogre qui ait jamais ogré dans la rue des ogres MARK. ARRÊTE. Hum.

Toutes mes excuses. Je ne me suis éloigné rien qu’un instant de la rédaction de cette missive, et une certaine personne que nous connaissons très bien tous les deux a pris des libertés avec ma plume.

Comme je le disais, le Royaume des Fées est exceptionnellement vaste et ses habitants innombrables. Il est donc fort peu probable que j’aie connaissance d’un membre nomade du Petit Peuple. Je te dis cela non point pour te réprimander, mais simplement pour que tu revoies tes attentes à la baisse, puisque ta question est comparable à ce que je te demande si tu connais quelqu’un dont le seul point commun avec toi est que cette personne a aussi vécu à Los Angeles.

Mais il se trouve que je t’ai fait revoir tes attentes seulement pour que tu sois d’autant plus enchanté lorsque j’y réponds car, en réalité, je connais effectivement le phouka auquel tu fais référence !

Plus exactement, je sais qui il est. Son nom est Socks MacPherson (bien évidemment, ce n’est pas son Vrai Nom, car aucune mère aimante d’aucune espèce de fée ne nommerait un enfant Socks) et il a une certaine réputation dans les Cours en tant que chapelier. Il s’est spécialisé dans les chapeaux conçus pour les têtes dont les caractéristiques peuvent représenter un obstacle pour les couvre-chefs normaux (par exemple, des cornes, des oreilles de chat, des oreilles de chauve-souris, des oreilles de renard, une chevelure faite de serpents).

Hélas, il a prêté allégeance à la Cour des Lumières, puisqu’il détient un titre de fournisseur officiel de la Reine. A cause de cela, il me serait impossible de contacter MacPherson pour une tout autre affaire que la commande d’un chapeau, et je n’ai pas besoin d’un chapeau, parce qu’ils ne tiennent pas très bien au-dessus des couronnes.

Ceci dit, je crois que je peux tout de même t’aider. J’enverrai un pli à mon frère Adaon pour l’enjoindre à t’inviter à la Cour des Lumières pour une rencontre courtoise. Là, tu pourras chercher MacPherson en personne. Je t’autorise à lui offrir un cadeau qu’il acceptera sans doute en échange de son assistance : une faveur du Roi de la Cour des Ténèbres. (Moi).

Je t’offre mon aide du plus profond de mon cœur, frère Julian. Mais je te demanderais un petit geste en retour : que tu me racontes ton voyage à la Cour des Lumières, avec tous les détails qui te semblent pertinents ou intéressants. J’ai informé Mark que je requerrais ceci, et il s’est fâché contre moi et a insinué que je voulais faire de toi mon espion. Permets-moi de te dire clairement que je n’exige aucunement que tu agisses pour le compte de la Cour des Ténèbres ni que tu révèles des secrets liés à ta visite que tu souhaiterais garder pour toi. Je te prierais, cependant, de prêter une minutieuse attention à tout ce que tu y verras et entendras, et de m’en faire un compte-rendu, notamment concernant tout ce que la Cour préférait cacher.

Comme toujours, je reste ton fidèle serviteur. Gloire à Kraig.

Kieran

Texte original de Cassandra Clare ©

Traduction d’Eurydice Bluenight ©

Le texte original est à lire ici : https://secretsofblackthornhall.tumblr.com/post/686958914380660736/letter-from-kieran

[itsokayig]

[riddleriddle]

Nothing we throw at them works..! What will we ever do?

No.. Get Kraig. He'll get em..

[craigthekraig]

Kraig

Kraig

Kraig

[swappermanent]

e-Swap (Part 2)

Read Part 1 by @swapery here.

Liam's POV:

It’s wild to look back on it now. Four years ago, I was just a cocky kid scrolling through Tumblr, indulging in bodyswap roleplays. I mean, it’s hot, right? The idea of becoming someone else, walking in their skin, living their life—it’s escapism at its best.

To be honest, though? What really turned me on the most was the idea of someone else wanting to take over my life. And this guy—Kristoph—he wanted to step into my shoes, take over everything about me, and, I don’t know… maybe live my life better than I could. That hit me somewhere deep.

Sure, I found Kristoph hot. Objectively speaking, he was attractive. He had this kind of rugged, manly charm—average height, short curly brown hair, a beard that was thick but didn’t quite fill in everywhere. In gay terms, he’d be an “otter,” though not the polished, Instagram-perfect kind. Still, there was something about him, something raw and real.

But what I found so hot wasn’t necessarily his looks. It was the roleplay itself. The back-and-forth, the fantasy of letting someone else become me—it was intoxicating. So I flirted with him, told him how hot he was and how much I wanted to be him too. It egged him on, made him want me even more. And that was harmless, right? That’s what roleplaying is for. It’s not real life. Nobody actually thinks they’re going to wake up in someone else’s body.

And who knows? If it hadn’t been for what happened next, I probably would’ve gotten bored after a few days and moved on. I’ve done it before. I’m a bit… boy-obsessive. A bit of a heartbreaker, if I’m being honest. Cute guys came and went. I was always onto the next. And, let’s be real, it usually worked for me because, well, I was even cuter.

But that’s not what happened.

---

I was completely thrown when I woke up one morning in Kristoph’s body. Like, how the fuck was that even possible? I stared at myself—well, at him—in the mirror, touching the unfamiliar beard, the broader shoulders, the chest that didn’t feel like mine. It didn’t make any sense.

The first thing I did was try to contact myself. I called my phone—my phone, which was now across the world in Australia, in Kristoph’s hands. No answer. I sent messages on Tumblr, over and over, desperate to get a reply, but it was like shouting into the void.

Confusion quickly turned to anger. As the hours dragged on, I couldn’t shake the growing suspicion that he must’ve done this to us somehow. He must’ve found a way. What other explanation could there be?

How could he do this to me? To us? Without even asking? Without telling me it was real?

Well… okay. He had asked, technically. And I had consented, in a joking way. But I thought it was all pretend. A game. Roleplay. Something to get off on—not… this.

Now I was out of moves. Totally stuck. Kristoph lived in England—or I guess I did now—and I lived in Australia. Or, well, he did. Either way, it wasn’t like I could just hop on a plane and go confront him. What was I even supposed to say? “Hey, give me my body back”? Impossible.

---

As I began to accept the fact that I was stuck in Kristoph’s body, resentment crept in. I hated how I looked. I mean, I know I’d flirted with him online—played it up, told him how hot I thought he was—but I didn’t actually want to be him. Not for real.

Honestly, I couldn’t stand his beard. It was scruffy, patchy, and felt like a chore to maintain. And in person? He was so much shorter than I’d imagined. That one photo he’d sent me had totally oversold him. His muscles were fine, I guess, but not as impressive as I’d hoped. Definitely felt like I’d been catfished.

And the worst part? He had no hot romantic prospects at all. No dates, no flirty DMs, no wild social life. The guy was a total dud. Meanwhile, I was stuck in his body while he got the better end of the deal.

It didn’t take long for me to start seeing his posts online. There he was, shirtless and flaunting my old twinky body for the world to see. He was out everywhere—hanging with my friends, partying, meeting people I didn’t even recognize. Hot, sexy guys who I could only assume were his latest hookups or maybe even a boyfriend.

At first, it made me furious. How could he be so bold, living my life like that? But slowly—bit by bit—I found myself getting turned on by those posts. Watching him, in my body, owning the life I’d built, looking amazing in photos, thriving without me… it did something to me.

He still wouldn’t reply to my texts, but it’s not like he’d blocked me on social media either. If anything, it felt like he wanted me to see it all. To flaunt it. After all, he’d been into bodyswap fantasies too—he probably loved the idea of me watching him live my life better than I ever could.

And damn, was he doing a good job. I started thinking about how well he was pulling it off. He didn’t need my help or guidance; he didn’t need anything from me at all. He’d just stepped into my shoes and thrived.

I couldn’t help it after a while—it turned me on. Seeing him so confident, so free, so successful in my life was like watching my biggest fantasy unfold before my eyes. It was frustrating. It was infuriating.

And it was so fucking sexy.

---

Eventually, I turned my focus to fixing up my new body, accepting that this situation was probably permanent. There wasn’t much else I could do.

At first, I tried to go back to my old look—the twinky vibe I’d always rocked. It felt safe, familiar. I shaved the beard and acted a bit more submissive, like I used to. But the more I leaned into it, the more wrong it felt.

It was almost like this body was resisting me, like it was pushing me to be something else. Something… jockier. Stronger. It was weird, but I couldn’t ignore it.

So I regrew the beard, but this time I made it work—neat, full, and intentional. Then I started trying out sports, just to see what stuck. Tennis, running, biking… I gave them all a go.

But the one that really clicked for me was rugby. Something about it felt right, like this body was made for it.

I threw myself into it. It was a lot of hard work—hours in the gym, changing how I ate, how I moved, how I carried myself. But over time, I started to see real results. The body I was living in became exactly what Kristoph had pretended to be all those years ago: a true muscle hunk.

It wasn’t just the body, though. Something about the discipline, the structure, the focus it took to transform myself—it all changed me, too. I started posting on social media, sharing my progress. And damn, the attention rolled in. Now I’ve got more hot guys sliding into my DMs than I can keep track of.

But here’s the thing—I’ve learned a lot about how to treat people, about how to navigate relationships. I’m not the boy-obsessive heartbreaker I used to be. That’s made the best ones—the guys who actually matter—want me even more.

Honestly? I’ve never felt more in control, more confident, or more like me.

---

That brings me to today. I just got an email telling me to check the messages on this old Tumblr account, one I’d almost forgotten I even had. It was from Liam.

I was surprised to see his name pop up after all these years. Part of me wondered what he wanted, but honestly? I didn’t even read it. And I’m definitely not going to respond. Why would I?

So consider this post my way of signing off for good. I’ve learned my lesson—I know better than to mess around on those forums ever again.

Besides, look at me now. I’m hot as fuck. Why would I ever want to be anyone but me?

[suzukiblu]

[ image description: Digital illustration of Clark Kent and Conner Kent from YJ animated. Clark is in costume and smiling, crouched in front of a physiologically four year-old Conner in Cadmus, who looks wary and is holding Kraig in his lap. Desmond, Guardian, and Dubbilex are in the background. Desmond is angry, Guardian is confused, and Dubbilex has no comment at this time. ]

Clark wakes up alive and finds a four year-old about it.

(( chrono || non-chrono ))

[redwhiteandroyalbluesuggestions]

Be compared with many, many other books that come after you

[brothersnackariahsbitch]

Kieran in SOBH is so fucking funny. Signing off his letters with things like “Hail Kraig”, and dropping lines like this:

“Let us remind our Court that we are the Moon, as the Seelie Court is the Sun; rather than that they are Beauty, and we Tackiness.”

[kaitcreates]

Valentine

Kraig

[lilychxn]

FIVE THOUSAND AMERICAN DOLLARS for every TSC book signed by CC is actually so silly

[mrstsung]

Me: master tsung? What's that?

Shang: oh that's just kraig honey.

Me: who's kraig?

Shang: well you see my dear kraig was a treasure hunter that happened to come to my island,trying to steal treasure. I let him if he could get past my traps. Which i thought would be an easy soul.....it was not. THAT MAN KEPT DYING AND COMING BACK! and sometimes he'd die on the traps purposely. For fun! You know what?! Im not even sure he's a man. Perhaps he's some kind of eldritch abomination sent by the elder gods as punishment to torture me... ehem. Well kraig is like the other creatures on my island dear so just ignore him and you'll be fine ok? Love you sweetie. *kisses forehead*

*me sitting there hella confused by this old sorcerer man. But i love him.*

Me: i wonder if kraig like chicken nuggets? I should feed him. uwu <3