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etrangeres · 29 days ago

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The Curious Case of Kaitou Kid

We love alliteration in this household.

To start with an anecdote, I went to the main Animate store in Ikebukuro some 2-3 weeks after M27 began showing in theaters. I had two reasons to be there: hopefully grab some copies of the Magic Kaito Treasured Editions, and grab what movie-related merch I could. The former I managed, but the latter was a lot harder. Despite them devoting nearly an entire wall on the right side of the first floor to Detective Conan merch, every single piece of non-blind box Kaitou Kid merch had been snatched up already. This trend of Kid’s merch being sold out seemed to continue for at least a couple weeks afterward, at least in and around Tokyo.

This demonstrates something I think we all already know: Kaitou Kid is a crazy popular Detective Conan character.

…Detective Conan character? Yes, but… No. But definitely yes. But… yes?

Kaitou Kid - real name Kaito Kuroba - is such a funny character if you think about him for more than a few seconds. So I chose to think about him for a few, uh. Days.

When I say he’s funny to think about, I don’t necessarily mean in terms of who he is as a character - which is admittedly also fun, because I think Gosho Aoyama is the king of gap moe - but more in terms of his placement in the greater DCMK canon. I mean, the fact that we have the “DCMK” acronym at all signifies the importance of tying these two series together. Even though they technically take place in different worlds. You know. Technically.

So I want to (mostly) chronologically go through Kid’s history in Detective Conan, how it relates to his origin as Kaito Kuroba in Magic Kaito, and amuse myself with the strange relationship he (and his source manga) has with the juggernaut that is Detective Conan.

Before we jump into this, some basic notes:

-I don’t mean for this to come across like some academic thesis. Nor did I actually think this would hit nearly 17k words. I’m just Like This.

-Any translations you see here are done by me, from the source Japanese.

-There will be concrete mentions of events from M27. They are comparatively trivial in terms of the mystery the film offers, but there will be spoilers for certain major parts of the plot as they relate to Magic Kaito elements. This will be clearly demarcated, should you wish to avoid those spoilers.

The MK to DC Pipeline

So I don’t know how many people actually need this information, but for completion’s sake:

Magic Kaito is Gosho Aoyama’s debut serialization (important distinction), and it began in June 1987. Though roughly the first two volumes’ worth of chapters were published at a fairly consistent monthly rate, it grew more and more irregular after that due to the popularity of both Yaiba and (more importantly for our discussion) Detective Conan. Due to it still technically being an ongoing series, it is currently Weekly Shonen Sunday’s longest running manga. This just so happens to be followed by Detective Conan, and they lead this particular ranking by a fairly wide margin.

The manga as it currently exists came out of the one-shot “Nonchalant Lupin,” which he submitted to Shonen Magazine’s manga contest after his editor told him to “draw the story you most want to draw” (Treasured Ed. V5). The one-shot won an honorable mention. His comment in Treasured Ed V1 also mentions that he “all but became a mangaka because I wanted to write about a high school kaitou,” so he’s clearly attached to the concept. He’s also clearly attached to Magic Kaito itself; a number of excerpts from the Gosho Aoyama 30th Anniversary Book, for example, talk about how a greedy part of him immediately thought of Kaitou Kid on the silver screen when he heard about the first movie being greenlit, or how he thinks Detective Conan will one day end but Magic Kaito may not because that’s what he really wants to be writing.

Back to our timeline: the Kindaichi Case Files were gaining steam in the early 1990s, and Weekly Shonen Sunday wanted its own version of the boom. Gosho himself was approached by the editorial team at Sunday to do a mystery series, and he accepted, not thinking it would last very long - not only because he wasn’t all that interested in the idea, but because he didn’t think there would be enough material to last more than three months.

It has lasted 30 years.

I say all this not to indulge in the depressing truth that Magic Kaito only has just shy of 40 chapters, but to specifically highlight the synergy Magic Kaito has with Detective Conan - despite the existence of magic in the former - due to their shared inspiration of Arsene Lupin. Things like Sherlock Holmes and Kogoro Akechi are pretty obvious inspirations for Detective Conan that I don’t need to go into in much depth, but the idea of a “high school kaitou” still very much bleeds into aspects of Conan’s character. Many of the things Kaito is either capable of naturally or has to deal with due to the inherent nature of his position are things that are also reflected in Shinichi.

Feats of physicality (Comes naturally to Kaito due to genetics and practice; enhanced for Conan via Agasa’s inventions)

Master of disguise (A practiced skill with makeup and voice changing for Kaito; use of a voice changer and aid from people in his life to deal with disguises)

Secret identity (a flipped perspective version: Kaito has a straightforward secret identity, while Shinichi has to keep his survival a secret)

The “bumbling police” (A good kaitou story will have a morally upstanding but kinda dumb detective that demonstrates the sheer skill of the kaitou in question while putting a contrast to their morals. Nakamori is this to Kaito; though not a one-to-one, characters like Megure or Kogoro serve similar roles to Shinichi to demonstrate his skills as a detective.)

“Why are you like this????” (Admittedly the most Vibes of the list, but there’s a level of gray morality. We root for the main character while knowing that what they’re doing is at times questionable. Kaito goes without saying, but Shinichi is more likely to engage in suspicious behavior like breaking into cars, bugging people’s houses, or even stealing evidence after becoming Conan.)

Motive (The most interesting - and sometimes the funniest - overlap is the fact that they’re both after a shifty organization. It’s a bit surface level at first, but there’s a suspicious level of overlap between not Shinichi and Kaito, but Shinichi and Toichi.)

All of this is to say that pushing DC and MK into DCMK is almost comically easy once you adjust for tone (and, uh. remove Akako, I guess) because Shinichi is BUILT from the kaitou framework and tweaked into a detective. So it’s no wonder Gosho decided to throw in a Kaitou Kid cameo that turned into the character asserting himself as a recurring sub character, as opposed to a quirky crossover character.

Even if he’s still both. And also a secret third thing.

The Last Wizard of the Black Star

So, there’s not much to mention about Magic Kaito’s early run. All chapters in the pre-DC era are stand-alone stories, with the plot starting and concluding within the span of a single chapter. It was a bit of an “anything goes” era, with the genre fluctuating all over the place and a lot of things we consider “standard” in any given Kaitou Kid story not yet being fully codified. Many of these weirder chapters have their own charm if you allow the gag manga energy to take you for a ride, but if gag manga isn’t your thing then it feels like these chapters are where Kaito himself is at his most…incongruous with the character that would eventually show up in Detective Conan. (Let it be known for the record that I personally find these early chapters SO silly and would kill for an animated adaptation of Clockwork Heart, the truly bonkers third chapter.)

The biggest “what do you MEAN that wasn’t there from the start?!” is by far Blue Birthday, which is the chapter of Magic Kaito that was published immediately before Detective Conan began serialization. It took about half of the currently released chapters to introduce Pandora, a now fundamental concept that is likely to be included in ANY one-paragraph summary of Magic Kaito’s plot. It isn’t the only thing, of course; though Kaito’s card gun debuts in the very first chapter, his hang glider doesn’t show up until Chapter 10.

The other major thing worth pointing out in the pre-Black Star era is the general pacing and fundamental makeup of the stories themselves. Very few case-only (or heist-only, as it were) characters show up in these chapters. When they do show up, they tend to be pretty flat, are often ridiculous, and are there to facilitate the hijinks of the day (the gun-crazy detective, the weird robot inventor, the irresponsible prime minister).

This changes with Green Dream, and it’s an immediate change. Detective Conan has been in serialization for over half a year by this point, and already its formula is bleeding into Magic Kaito. There are multiple new characters per heist, and multiple pages with two to three times more text than before are dedicated to setting up a fundamental conflict. Kaito is also more likely to take a stance in this fundamental conflict and use his talents and status as Kaitou Kid to lead it to a conclusion. Behind all of that, though, Kaito himself is still the cheeky little agent of chaos we all know and love throughout these chapters. (As an aside, the Kid mark used on his advanced notices debuted in this chapter!)

The big watershed moment is very obviously Black Star - the Detective Conan version, in this case. In both this and the Magic Lovers case (despite his very little screen time in the latter), readers of Detective Conan are introduced to a FAR more serious version of the Magic Kaito character. This is largely because what we’re seeing in Black Star specifically is a 100% outsider's perspective. Though we’ll very shortly find out this is not Shinichi’s first meeting with Kid chronologically, it is the first time he not only hears his name, but also has any real interactions with him. Kaito wears the mask of his father in his performance as Kid, and you could very much argue his guard is WAY up around probably the weirdest child he’s ever met. So in a story from Conan’s perspective, we have no way of seeing behind that mask.

Personally, I always put a bit of an asterisk next to DC’s Black Star. This is the case that feels the most like a “crossover” than any other Kid case after this, and of course it would. It’s the very first one! It’s the Kaito and Aoko cameos that really bring this vibe for me personally; great care is taken in Detective Conan not to pull much of anything from Kaito Kuroba’s personal life except in a few stand-out cases, and those almost never involve anyone in our core cast directly. And I don’t even mean in the “he’s only ever shown in his Kid costume” way, because there are plenty of times where he shows up not wearing that. They key for me is that Kaito is always “at work” as a disguised Kaitou Kid as opposed to as Kaito Kuroba - the hat, the darker clothes, the low-effort disguises as police or staff. That kinda thing. But the appearance of Kaito and Aoko in their casual wear or school uniforms here really makes this case stand out in a way that later cases simply don’t joke about.

Detective Conan shows us Kaito at work. It’s why he comes across as so difficult to grasp and almost intimidating in these earliest of appearances. Those vibes obviously continue into The Last Wizard of the Century, the third theatrical release and Kaitou Kid’s very first movie appearance! His grand total screen time is only a fraction of the movie’s full run, but the vibes have a heavy overlap with that first conversation Conan has with Kid on the roof in Black Star. Though there are debates regarding the movie’s canonicity, this also marks the point in at LEAST movie continuity where Kaito figures out Conan’s identity, so there’s that precedent set. (Put a pin in that, by the way.) This also marks the first time Kid disguises himself as Shinichi.

What’s more amusing to me is that Magic Kaito’s Black Star seems to have been published to coincide with the movie’s release. Magic Kaito’s very first chapter after Kaitou Kid’s appearance in Detective Conan brings Shinichi Kudo to Magic Kaito. This is his only appearance in Magic Kaito to date, whether it be as Shinichi or as Conan. Gosho mentioned in his note on the Yaiba vs Kaito chapter that he really likes crossovers (same hat), so I have to think that the limited run of Magic Kaito is likely why we don’t see more DC characters in MK. Though in a Q&A he did toy with the idea of Conan showing up in Magic Kaito one day, so…

All that said, every time I think of MK’s Black Star my brain shoots off in two directions. The first and easier to articulate direction involves Akako’s presence, but we will get to that in the next section. The second direction is the very existence of this chapter at all.

As I mentioned above, this is the first new heist for MK after Kid showed up in DC. It is also the first multi-chapter heist, which indicates even more influence is bleeding over. It was also published alongside the movie, probably as part of a promotional stunt. Something about it feels like a doubling down of sorts on the stapling of these two series together. Kid showing up in Detective Conan is a fun reference; Shinichi showing up in Magic Kaito instead of the more recognizable Conan feels like a statement of shared worlds, largely because of how it makes you think about the timeline. The Akako issue aside, it really feels like he wanted these worlds to collide. If you have your own Lupin analogue AND your own Sherlock analogue, why wouldn’t you want to pit them against each other?

Add More Staples!

It’s at this point that updates to Magic Kaito get… particularly sparse. But there are a couple of things I find personally interesting about these few years despite that.

We start off with a back-to-back bang. The Twilight Mansion case introduces Hakuba into Detective Conan. Which would be fascinating by itself, but this was also Hakuba’s first appearance in EITHER DC or MK in TEN YEARS if you don’t count his one-panel cameo in MK’s Black Star. The framing of his introduction in Detective Conan is interesting, because the paneling and composition very clearly tell the reader that the character that’s about to be introduced is either 1) important, or 2) already known. In Hakuba’s case it’s clearly the latter, but this would make very little sense to someone that isn’t as aware of his place in Magic Kaito.

Enter The Gathering of the Great Detectives, the animated adaptation of the Twilight Mansion case that was turned into a two hour special and opened with MK’s Black Star. There are ways in which it’s an odd choice, given Hakuba barely appears in Black Star at all. But I think Hakuba’s status as yet another Magic Kaito character being introduced into the narrative provided an opportunity for them to adapt a Magic Kaito heist for TV broadcast, and the chapters featuring Shinichi were the easy choice. The Yaiba vs Kaitou Kid vs Conan OVA had come out shortly before this, so it’s technically not the first time a Magic Kaito chapter had been adapted. But that was more of an altered gaiden OVA compared to this, and this TV adaptation seemed to hit you over the head even harder that there was merit to delving into Magic Kaito if you were a fan of Detective Conan.

But now we finally get to talk about Akako. Oh, Akako. Bane of the DCMK world. Sole reason we must argue that they take place in parallel worlds despite how ridiculous that sounds.

In the manga, Akako gives Kaito her premonition about the Demon of Light coming after the White Sinner. This is also in the episode, if memory serves. But in the episode as aired on TV, Akako features very little after that… because they fully cut the scene of her attempting to use magic at the base of the clock tower. Magic does not exist in Detective Conan, after all. It was eventually put into the episode another ten years later on the bonus DVD that came with certain versions of the Treasured Edition of Magic Kaito Volume 4.

More broadly, Akako is clearly a sticking point for the combining of these two “worlds” into one. Gosho himself takes the easy way out by ignoring Akako’s existence entirely in the Detective Conan canon, just as the TMS adaptation of Black Star did. He’s often brought up the concept of the two taking place in parallel worlds where the only major difference is the presence of magic in one and its lack in the other, as in his comment on Akako’s intro in Treasured Ed. V1: “In truth, the biggest bottleneck when it came to introducing Kaitou Kid into Detective Conan was the inheritor of Red Magic herself! So please just accept the two series as parallel worlds (lol).” He’s much more straightforward in his comment for Sun Halo in Volume 5: “You really gotta have Akako use Red Magic! (Please just assume Akako does not exist in the Conan world…lol)”

Despite this insistence she doesn’t exist, Sky Walk features an almost blink and you’ll miss it reference to her. Nakamori brings up the idea of Kid’s assistant being in play, to which Conan shows surprise at him having an assistant at all. Nakamori replies that there are multiple reports, some of an “old man” and others mentioning a “young woman.” The old man is obviously Jii, but the young woman is very likely meant to be a reference to the stunt Akako pulls in Akako’s Delivery Service, a very early Magic Kaito chapter.

As you’ll notice, Akako is still very much a practitioner of sorcery as of something as recent as Sun Halo, so it’s not as though Gosho has simply opted to phase her or her magic out of Magic Kaito. But considering there are MULTIPLE DC cases that deal with debunking the supernatural, her presence would most certainly complicate things. That being said, Magic Kaito’s world and plot do not seem to hinge on magic in an intrinsic manner (unless Pandora is literally a magic gem, as opposed to the tale of the gem being a metaphor for something), so I personally don’t see too much of an issue with magic being very rare, even in Detective Conan’s setting.

To keep with Magic Kaito for a little while longer, Golden Eye was the single heist released during this period. As far as its significance is concerned, I actually think Gosho said it best in his comment in the Treasured Edition: “Magic Kaito may be a thief story, but it’s also a magic story, so it was incredible to finally be able to mention the actual legend Harry Houdini. Even so, there’s an awful lot of deduction going on, so in this story you can also really feel how it’s been corrupted by Conan (lol).” It was a thought I had about Golden Eye even before reading his comment, so I’m a bit amused to find he actually called it out to be honest.

The following Detective Conan cases - Sky Walk, Three Instruments, and Four Masterpieces - and the movie Magician of the Silver Sky are all more along the lines of Black Star in terms of Conan and Kid’s relationship, but with an extra added pinch of “coming together for a common cause” in the movie. Sky Walk specifically also introduced Jirokichi to the mix, and he becomes the only Detective Conan character whose purpose in the narrative is tied exclusively to Kid. It’s in this way we begin to create a Detective Conan-exclusive environment for Kaitou Kid, which in turn establishes him more and more as simply “a Detective Conan recurring character” as opposed to the main character of another story that’s here for crossover shenanigans.

There’s a Pandora’s Box reference in Three Instruments that makes me want to pull my hair out because don’t say Pandora that word is important, and Four Masterpieces is a lot more “murder mystery involving Kid.” They happen very rarely in Detective Conan, but they happen basically NEVER in Magic Kaito (Dark Knight doesn’t count), so this lowkey feels like another way we’re shoving Kaitou Kid into the rules of Detective Conan.

In Magician of the Silver Sky, Conan expresses a level of shock when “Shinichi” passes the pinch test. This then marks the first time (in movie continuity, at least) that Conan is aware that Kid naturally resembles him.

But the funniest thing about this series of cases (and the movie) for me is the cracks in Kid’s mask, whether that be for Conan himself or for the reader. The final confrontation in Sky Walk ends on an almost comical note with Kaito being blasted off again via gasoline fire, and there’s a stinger at the end of Four Masterpieces showing a pathetic Kaito after Conan has just shot a mecha-powered soccer ball directly at his stomach. And that’s not even getting into the movie, whose entire first act drops us into a tense confrontation with a very suave Kaitou Kid before rewinding back to when he put on the least convincing act ever as a disguised Shinichi Kudo.

Have I mentioned he contains multitudes yet? King of gap moe.

But we aren’t truly there yet. He’s a little silly for sure, but there are still times where the mask is on about as tight as it can be in Conan’s presence.

The last two stories mentioned here - Detective Koshien and the movie The Private Eyes’ Requiem - are actually a lot less about Kid and a lot more about Hakuba. So let’s talk about the cosplay detective for a little while.

Hakuba is interesting to me, for a couple different reasons. One is the cadence of his appearances in Magic Kaito. He is introduced late into the pre-Blue Birthday run and is in a total of three chapters. Those three chapters speedrun his discovery of Kid’s identity… and then he’s gone until his first Detective Conan appearance. Golden Eye is his return to Magic Kaito in a short but fairly significant scene that fills out the contours of his relationship with Kaito with regards to that identity, at which point he is in all but one case thereafter.

The other reason is that he seems to slip through the cracks of “significant Kaitou Kid relationships” unless you consider yourself a Magic Kaito fan. But I think this is largely due to the line in the sand we shall not cross: Kaito Kuroba’s personal life is off-limits in Detective Conan. As a result, Hakuba is framed far more often as a detective in his own right that just so happens to have some manner of connection to Kaitou Kid in his few Detective Conan appearances.

This connection is made fairly obvious in Twilight Mansion by both having him introduce Kid’s presence in the case, and having him and Conan highlighted as the two people that are after him at the end of that case. But his next appearance, Detective Koshien, only implies a connection in passing and chooses instead to focus on contrasting him with Heiji in preparation for the movie. In an interesting move, the plot developments of the case actually give Hakuba an excuse to avoid wearing a school uniform like the other students because he ultimately settles into the “foreign detective guest” role. There are, as a result, zero indications that he and Kaitou Kid’s civilian identity are actually classmates - or that he attends a Japanese school at all.

As for the movie itself, Hakuba was Kid in disguise the entire time, so there’s very little we can discuss when it comes to Hakuba himself. But after Kid’s frankly poor performance as Shinichi in M8, his performance as Hakuba in M10 is almost uncanny levels of spot-on (which admittedly turns into a very funny contrast with his Hakuba disguise in Green Dragon).

All in all, this selection of chapters, episodes, and movies pulled more of Magic Kaito into Detective Conan (when those details weren’t flying in the face of it), while Kid himself began to more closely resemble the Kid of Magic Kaito in the small moments. In Magic Kaito, meanwhile, we’re starting to see far more obvious influence from Detective Conan in the writing and pacing of its heists.

But the gates have not yet been thrown wide to truly allow the silly in.

Throw Wide The Gates That We May Sillie

The collection of chapters that start this portion of the list are, in a word, fascinating from a Magic Kaito perspective.

We start with Shinichi’s Childhood Adventure, which does a couple of notable things. First, it confirms that Toichi was the magician that taught Yukiko how to use disguise makeup for her acting career. It was implied to be him in a very “if you know, you know” fashion in the Golden Apple case over 200 chapters prior, but this makes it inarguably clear. The extension of this confirmation is that Toichi also taught Vermouth the art of disguise, which is a particularly interesting connection to think about. As obvious as it sounds to say, this chapter is also the start of confirming that many things we know of Magic Kaito’s plot and backstory remain consistent in Detective Conan as well. The case ensures you don’t need prior Magic Kaito knowledge to pick up on Toichi being the first Kaitou Kid. That he meets Yukiko with Kaito in tow also means (unless my memory is failing me) that this is the first and only time Kaito’s name is spoken within the Detective Conan manga. It also confirms that the author that named Kid was, in fact, Yusaku.

The big part of this case that people tend to bring up in the wake of the M27 reveal is the “I’m your younger brother” conversation from Toichi to a young Shinichi. Now, 2006 is earlier than what meager sources I’ve managed to find that seem to indicate he had the familial relationship in the back of his mind, so I’m personally not sure how much stock I place in this conversation as any form of foreshadowing. What the entire case does seem to indicate regardless, though, is that Toichi and Yusaku are aware of each other on more than a surface level. At the very least, we’re meant to take away a passing of the baton, from father to son, in their relationship as friendly rivals. It has, apparently, always run in the family.

All in all, this case is a far more intentional mixing of Magic Kaito with Detective Conan because it deals with past events. It says “these things were always here, intermingling” and concretely refutes the idea that the modern Kaitou Kid was the first point of contact, retroactively entrenching the character even more into the world of Detective Conan.

We switch back to Magic Kaito for a heist with Dark Knight, which Gosho acknowledges in his Treasured Edition comment is “another story with a strong mystery feel, and a dark conclusion that isn’t very Magic Kaito-esque.” This also happens to be the first Magic Kaito case to feature Superintendent Chaki, a Detective Conan character and Nakamori’s boss as introduced in Black Star.

The following series of four Detective Conan cases all look at slightly different aspects of Kid that haven’t really made themselves known in DC yet. First is Purple Nail, a personal favorite and the case that arguably leans the most into the idea of a magic show. The focus on having an audience and the employing (and challenging) of Thurston’s magic principles give it a slightly different vibe to other cases. In relation to Thurston, Kid actually opts to approach Conan ahead of the heist to personally challenge him. In the manga, it’s the first clear look at Jii in Detective Conan. But the thing that stands out to me is the sheer level of emotional expression on display from Kid. It’s not in a small moment at the end of a case anymore, but in various moments throughout. You see his panic when Conan shows up above the building, or his sense of satisfaction when running through the crowd in the middle of his trick. All of it combined makes it feel much more like, by this point, Conan and Kid are engaged in a game.

After that is Iron Tanuki, an amusing oddball of a case. That Jirokichi used a fake notice to send a secret message to Kid pleading for help is interesting enough, given it displays a level of begrudging trust the former has in the latter. But more amusing is Conan’s choice to facilitate this upon realizing the truth of the situation, as well as his choice to stay behind and ask Kid if there was anything he could do to help to open the titular safe. If Purple Nail was their first real game, then Iron Tanuki is the first time they really came together in anything resembling a cooperative stance.

Kirin’s Horn seems like an outlier at first - and it sort of is, since Kid thought a little shock and awe was in order - but the case also demonstrates a level of familiarity. Conan remains flat on the ground because he knows how Kid works, and knows figuring out why he’s chosen to knock him out this time is the key to the case. There’s also a level of gag to this case via Kid’s choice to disguise as Genta, and the stinger of Conan getting the last laugh via something as silly as a paper taped to his back.

The fourth case, Ryoma’s Gunbelt, is where the real fun starts. Despite the rather nonstandard premise of Kid opting to return stolen goods, the general flow of the case is fairly standard for a Kid case in Detective Conan. The standout of this case, in my opinion, is the final conversation between Conan and Kid. They speak of their respective mothers in a conversation that reveals key details about each other, and do so surprisingly candidly. There’s an argument to be made that Kid knew of Conan’s identity by this point; regardless of that argument, that Conan spoke of his mother with such identifying details once again indicates a level of trust. Kaito implying Phantom Lady is his mom, while not particularly identifying, returns that trust. And that’s not even getting into the fact that a Kid case in Detective Conan is introducing a pretty important fact about Kaito’s mom.

Skipping ahead a bit, what makes this case notable is not the case itself, but rather its pair: Phantom Lady, a Magic Kaito heist published a year later that serves as an immediate prequel to Ryoma’s Gunbelt. This is the first time since Black Star that Magic Kaito picks up on a Detective Conan case in any capacity, and arguably the first time at all it does so with such a direct connection. The mentions of the Black Star served as a vague framing story for the clock tower heist, but Phantom Lady ends with a shot of the three treasures that assumes you know exactly where things go from here.

All of these cases do much more to peel away the mysterious veneer from Kaitou Kid, and give him a more candid and open relationship with Conan.

But the big thing of this stretch, and a turning point as a whole for Kaitou Kid in the franchise in my opinion, is The Lost Ship in the Sky. Now this? THIS is a Sillie Movie. Kid is playing around with goats, smirking like a fool with Conan before jumping out of a helicopter, and making the most inappropriate sounds when Conan’s hand wanders a little too far. He and Conan are actively seeking each other’s help and indulging in silly banter, even as Kaito makes a fool of himself with Ran. Speaking of Ran, this is the movie where she first fully realizes that Kid naturally resembles Shinichi. And as a cherry on top, we also get a shot of Kaito Kuroba himself.

And I think it’s worth considering what aired the very same day the movie came out: Secret Birth of Kaitou Kid, the first episode of TMS’s adaptation of Magic Kaito. After years of teasing the door open on who Kaitou Kid is behind the mask, TMS adapted the first chapter of Magic Kaito and aired it in the Detective Conan TV time slot. It, too, is an incredibly silly episode of an incredibly silly first chapter of an incredibly silly gag manga. THIS IS KAITO KUROBA, Detective Conan said. OBSERVE HOW SILLIE HE IS.

Testing the Waters

TMS eventually made 12 of these episodes. Based on the air dates, I can only assume Secret Birth of Kaitou Kid was meant to be a one-off, or at the very least it was a testing of the waters. Whatever the case, the remaining episodes got greenlit and were aired over 2011-2012. The most interesting change to the second half of these episodes is the addition of new plot points related to Magic Kaito’s organization, chiefly the new member Spider. They were introduced alongside Hakuba, who I imagine they wished to give a larger role in the episodes he did show up in. Another major takeaway from the TMS adaptation is their decision to animate Akako’s Delivery Service in The Witch, The Detective, and The Phantom Thief, albeit edited and extended to deal with the new anime-only plot points. In terms of Akako’s feelings for Kaito and Hakuba’s discovery of his identity, it’s a fairly significant chapter. Despite that, this is the only animated adaptation. I have some… complicated feelings regarding this, but now is not the time.

As for the manga, we have a major arc in Mystery Train. This is not, in all technicality, a Kid case. If anything, his presence is pure coincidence, given he was only there to stake out the train ahead of the actual heist. Though this is a purebred Detective Conan plot, with the Black Organization’s involvement, Kid winds up a key part of their plan to convince the Organization that Sherry is well and truly dead.

Though his appearance in this case would be referenced in the future, this would be the first and last time Kid was directly involved in a major Detective Conan plot beat. This chapter was released before I had an active interest in Detective Conan, so much of what I’ve seen are second- or third-hand accounts from Japanese fans who went through the arc’s release. In short, reception was very mixed to Kid being such a major part in the resolution of this conflict. While there are those who enjoy his inclusion, either because they’re fans of Kid or because they accept the manner in which he was dragged into the plot halfway through, there are also those who consider him a “cheat” character who taints the worldview of Detective Conan by his presence alone. Gosho himself has also mentioned that he won’t be involving Kid in Black Organization plots anymore, either, due to the backlash.

My personal view on Kid’s involvement in Mystery Train is that the arc felt very much like a capital-E Event, so I bought it. There was a clear amount of luck involved in his presence there, so I could see how some may think the entire thing contrived, but it’s that coincidence that sells it for me. It’s Conan needing to fly by the seat of his pants to ensure Haibara makes it out alive, and further impresses upon us that they were half a step away from potentially fatal consequences. Nevertheless, this seems to be a case of an attempt to integrate Kid into the greater Detective Conan narrative that ultimately failed, so he returns to being largely divorced from the overall plot.

Despite this, though, there appear to be multiple chapters after this that focus on systematically introducing Kid to members of the extended cast. This starts with Blush Mermaid, Sera’s first presence at a Kid heist. What’s also unique about this chapter is the small but significant scene at the end that actually does continue the overall main plot - in this case, Sera’s misgivings over the death of Akai. Though Kid will not be overly involved in the main plot from here on out, his chapters do start featuring B Plots that touch on said main narrative. It’s… a half victory, of sorts, in terms of integration.

The other major takeaway from this case is a continuation of Conan and Kid apparently keeping a score of sorts. Due to Kid’s assistance during Mystery Train and the lack of a real theft, Conan lets Kid go. We’re in real “friendly rival” hours now.

Twin Bets pits Kid against Kyogoku, a frankly long overdue confrontation considering he’s Sonoko’s boyfriend. There’s a half-argument to be had that this also involves Kid in a major B Plot for the series as a whole, since this is a romance plot with a major recurring character. There’s also a level of intrinsic amusement in a Kid vs Kyogoku confrontation, since it comes down to (to quote my girlfriend) “guy who is literally from another manga but feels like he belongs here vs guy who somehow belongs here but definitely should be in another manga.”

Twin Bets also serves as the very first time Kid looks at the gem of the day under the moonlight in a Detective Conan chapter. It's the first case post-TMS Magic Kaito where it's applicable for him to do so; he's a bit busy with other things in Mystery Train, and he calls out Blush Mermaid for being a fake. This trend would continue in every case afterward where the plot wasn't otherwise preventing him from doing so (like the murder in Azure Throne).

Normally, this particular stretch of chapters would include quite a few more due to how many of them follow this “Kid, meet [Character]” format. But some of you may have noticed that, despite all the ample opportunities I’ve had to speak of it, I’ve avoided mentioning a certain number…

1412

Thousands of words earlier in this retrospective, I mentioned that Detective Conan’s Black Star felt the most like a crossover chapter. What I didn’t mention at the time, however, was that it also feels like one of the most fundamentally necessary Kid cases in Detective Conan. Not because it’s Kid’s first appearance, but because it introduces a piece of information about Kaitou Kid that eventually becomes baked into his identity despite the fact that it was introduced outside of his source series.

1412, the Interpol criminal code assigned to the internationally renowned phantom thief that was subsequently transformed after an author misread a journalist’s hasty scrawl as “KID.”

It feels like no small coincidence that the A1 adaptation of Magic Kaito added “1412” to the end of its title not just to differentiate this adaptation from TMS’s Magic Kaito specials, but to also indicate that this version of Magic Kaito would be the marriage of its namesake manga and Detective Conan.

In this regard and more, Magic Kaito 1412 modernizes aspects of the original story.

Technology, for example, was updated to reflect what a high school student like Kaito would be doing. Instead of reading the news in the papers, he’s scrolling through news sites on his phone. This is the most common kind of update that you see across adaptations of all stripes, so it’s the less interesting change.

The anime also modernizes with regards to itself, looking inward to find out what people associate with Kid in the modern day and adjusting the story - and the order that story is told - to account for that. This is expressed in ways both large and small. Blue Birthday, for example, is pushed way up to episode 2 of 1412 to introduce Pandora to the audience as soon as possible. Given Blue Birthday is also an Aoko-centric episode, it’s equally fitting that she gets the second episode. Jii’s significance is heightened by reworking the scrapped chapter Hustler vs Magician, a chapter that also coincidentally focused on an aspect of Jii’s past, into episode 3. This focus on major characters continues into episodes 4-6, which introduce Hakuba (chapter 15), Akako (chapter 6), and Shinichi (chapter 23), in that order.

There are also minor changes, likely made for pacing or simply content reasons. One small but frankly fairly significant change involves Kaito’s card gun. He’s shown using it in the first chapter of the manga, which also means he’s using it in the first episode of TMS’s adaptation. Since it eventually comes to be a signature weapon for Kaitou Kid, 1412 prevents Kaito from using it while in his civilian identity (like when he’s panicking about the fish with Aoko). Due to moving Blue Birthday up to episode 2, heists that originally weren’t really bothered with holding the target up to the moon include scenes of Kaito doing just that. Jii is suspiciously absent for most chapters until Black Star, so 1412 inserts him into animated adaptations of older heists, such as helping Kaito prepare the fireworks for Blue Birthday or providing an anime-original explanation of magic vs sorcery. There are similar one-offs with other characters as well, like a short scene of Hakuba being inserted into Akako’s introductory episode.

As a proper series in its own right, as opposed to a series of animated specials, 1412 also had to decide on a unified tone. Though TMS’s adaptation fluctuates wildly, 1412’s tone is a bit more even across the board. It’s comedic and dips its toes in gag vibes without taking it to absurd levels. While TMS’s adaptation of the first episode includes an entire apparatus outside the classroom window in episode 1, Kaito simply jumps out the window and makes it to the ground after running around the classroom in 1412. Though it also pulls away from some of the more atmospheric moments of TMS’s adaptation, it pulls back far more from the gag energy.

As a result of the above two points, many chapters are shuffled around or cut entirely. Chapters like Clockwork Heart, Japan’s Most Irresponsible Prime Minister, or I Am The Master are a level of absurdity that doesn’t fit with modern Magic Kaito’s energy, so they were completely cut. The Police Are Everywhere (chapter 2) was pushed back and adapted as The Princess and the Thief’s Improv (episode 15), because the emotional core of Nakamori potentially getting removed from the police force simply doesn’t work that early in the story outside the gag context. Akako’s Delivery Service was also unfortunately cut… Whether it be because of Akako’s appearance as Kid and the subsequent punchline or because of the technology Hakuba used to ascertain Kid’s identity, they apparently determined it was either too outside the tone or too difficult to adapt. Hakuba’s call in Golden Eye truly comes out of nowhere as a result, though, and that’s one fewer episode for a character that already had a bit of a spotty appearance record early in the manga’s run.

When the anime was announced, there were 30 chapters out. Seven of these were ultimately not animated, and many of the two chapter cases could be easily adapted into a single episode. They needed more material to fill out the remaining episodes, so they did this in two main ways.

The first is by reaching into some key Detective Conan cases. Black Star is a bonafide Magic Kaito case, but shifting it and Shinichi’s appearance in this adaptation to episode six - right after a series of core cast introductions - is actually very telling. 1412 was not only concerned with adapting the manga for modern sensibilities, but also with adapting Detective Conan for a Magic Kaito audience and further strengthening the connection between the two. This “adaptation” resulted in anime-original retellings of Ryoma’s Gunbelt, Sky Walk, and Purple Nail from Kaito’s point of view. Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a decision early on in the anime’s development, and if it was their existence that necessitated the tone of 1412 be evened out via not adapting the more “out there” chapters of the source manga.

The second thing they did to fill the run time was for Gosho to write an entirely new heist to function as a finale for the anime. This was Midnight Crow, the first heist to really touch on the driving plot of Magic Kaito (outside of Snake showing up to be ineffective) since Blue Birthday. Gosho’s comment on this case in the Treasured Edition is… a lot.

After a standalone anime adaptation was greenlit, the topic of what we should do for the final episode came up at our first meeting, so I said “Why don’t I write the ‘Black Kaitou Kid’ story I have saved as a trump card in Sunday and use that in the final episode?” Thus I wrote Midnight Crow! I’ll never forget how surprised the members of staff looked when I bluntly told them that Toichi is actually still alive (lol). (…) Though Chikage made Kaito work as Kid in Phantom Lady, she tried to get him to quit in Midnight Crow because of everything that happened in Las Vegas… But that’s a story for another time (lol).

The story itself has plenty of hints that Kaitou Corbeau is a Toichi-Chikage tag-team, but actually seeing him spell it out so casually sure is something.

Speaking of spelling things out, though, I also want to take an aside to touch on the Magic Kaito 1412 novelizations. Six volumes were published roughly concurrently with the anime’s run, and though there isn’t anything drastically different from what we already know from either Magic Kaito or Detective Conan, sometimes the narration can be quite enlightening. For the purposes of this, though, I specifically want to touch on that pin from earlier.

In the movie continuity, there is very clearly a moment where Kaito figures out Conan’s identity in The Last Wizard of the Century. There is no concrete equivalent to this in either Detective Conan or Magic Kaito, and 1412 doesn’t really expand on this either. I mentioned the possibility that Ryoma’s Gunbelt would have given Kaito ammo to figure out who Conan might be, but it’s not the most compelling argument. I’ve heard tell that Gosho once implied Kaito may have simply come to this conclusion on his own outside of the movie continuity, and I’ve personally always taken this stance given he seems to recognize Conan as a “high school detective” in Fairy’s Lips - and simply DOES know, no arguments, by Azure Throne.

Taking novelizations like these as fully canon is always a bit of a risk, but there’s a very interesting expansion on this particular issue in Volume 3, during the Ryoma’s Gunbelt adaptation. After Kaito runs into Conan while under disguise at the museum, the novels go into a brief explanation of how Kaitou Kid came to be known as such (aka the 1412 thing), followed by a flashback to Kid and Conan’s first meeting in DC’s Black Star. The narration then turns to what happened after the fact. This is fairly long, but as far as I’m aware these novels aren’t available in English, legally or otherwise. As such…

***

Kaito investigated the child that was on the roof of the Beika hotel - the young boy who called himself a detective, and with whom Kaito fought during the Black Star incident.

His name was Conan Edogawa.

He was a distant relative of Hiroshi Agasa, inventor and scientist, and was currently freeloading at the house of Kogoro Mouri, the famous detective “The Sleeping Kogoro.”

…And that was all he really figured out about him.

Conan Edogawa was full of mysteries.

But there was one thing that bothered Kaito.

Kogoro Mouri had a high school daughter named Ran. And Ran Mouri was the childhood friend of Shinichi Kudo.

That Shinichi Kudo.

The very high school detective that cornered Kaito during the clock tower heist.

Before his run-in with Conan, Kaito had looked into the young man that had aided the Metropolitan Police Department.

At a certain point after that clock tower incident, he had apparently gone missing.

He was not officially registered as missing, nor did it become a massive incident. But he stopped attending Teitan High School and disappeared from his home. He was apparently gone because he was busy chasing after some case a client had requested of him, but…

The elementary schooler Conan Edogawa appeared before both Ran Mouri and Kaitou Kid as if taking his place.

Shinichi Kudo, and Conan Edogawa.

Due to their mysterious nature, the two detectives continued to fascinate Kaito.

By the way…

The certain young novelist who had given Kaitou Kid his name was currently a world-renowned mystery writer.

His name was Yusaku Kudo.

Shinichi Kudo’s father.

Then there’s his mother, Yukiko Kudo, who was an essayist. She was a former actress, and once studied under the magician Toichi Kuroba to prepare for a role. Kaito had even once met her alongside his father in his childhood.

A strange turn of fate connected the Kudo and Kuroba families across multiple generations.

Did Kaito realize…?

Did he know that Conan Edogawa was actually Shinichi Kudo, who turned into a child after being forced to take a strange medicine?!

Professor Agasa was aware that Conan Edogawa was actually Shinichi Kudo… and it was likely only a select few others knew this. Not even Ran Mouri, his childhood friend, knew.

If Shinichi Kudo was keeping his identity a secret… then the reason he became a child must be pretty dangerous. Something that involved crime and the underworld. Just knowing the truth could put your life in danger.

It was only obvious that Kaito kept his identity as Kaitou Kid hidden.

But Shinichi Kudo must be living an even more troublesome life.

***

The narration of these novels knocks on the fourth wall fairly often, explaining that middle bit of this particular excerpt. It never confirms for sure whether or not Kaito managed to connect the dots, but the aforementioned questionable canonicity of novelizations like this means that was probably the safe choice. That there’s extra information here at all about Kaito looking into both Shinichi AND Conan is a pleasant surprise, as far as I’m concerned. But it’s also a bit frustrating that we don’t yet have even a hint of how this occurred in the manga when we now have two potential sources of that knowledge in the movies and these novels.

Which you opt to take as the more likely canon is probably up to personal interpretation, but I think I’m personally a bit more willing to go with a version of the novel’s events. I prefer to include the movies as a level of canon unless they outright contradict the manga (like M10 does, tragically), but the novel’s versions of events is probably the safer option.

But it’s the inclusion of extra scenes like these that further connects Magic Kaito - especially this particular iteration - to Detective Conan. They are holding hands so tightly now.

This all eventually culminates in Sunflowers of Inferno. Though M14 is the more obvious turning point with regards to Kid’s general behavior and personality in Detective Conan movies, Sunflowers of Inferno is a slightly more interesting turning point: all three movies after 1412 airs involve aspects of Magic Kaito, whether it be in its story or in its theming.

For this movie, it’s a very obvious example of the former. I think the plot of M19 is… strictly okay, but Kid’s motivation throughout being related to Jii is something I really enjoyed about the film. You know, assuming you don’t think too hard about Jii’s age as it relates to the timing of the flashbacks. Outside of that, Kid’s behavior in the movie almost looks as though it’s walking back from M14, but that’s only because Kid is playing the villain for most of it. Once that facade is dealt with he’s fully cooperative with Conan, to the point that the latter trusts the former with Ran’s safety. The opening scene with Kaito in his dark heist garb is also a nice bonus.

All in all, I think 1412 airing actually has the biggest effect on the movies. I’m not sure if that was intentional - movies 23 and 27 have the same director, so it could just be that her artistic vision includes MK in it - but for Sunflowers of Inferno it was almost certainly intentional as a show of fireworks after the ending of the anime. As for the manga, 1412 airing actually seems to have had very little influence on the Detective Conan chapters featuring him. Though Kid is a lot more likely to resemble the version of the character from Magic Kaito now, the manga seems a bit more concerned with introducing him to the new guard.

Meet The Fam

The Detective Conan cases in this section continue the general trend from after Mystery Train of either 1) introducing Kid to a significant sub character, or 2) running parallel to a B Plot that is concerned with the main narrative.

Luna Memoria does a couple of interesting things. First, this is the first time Conan explicitly asks Kid about investigating the jewel of the heist, since he knows Kid is on the search for a “special jewel.” Kaito is very candid in his response, telling Conan he ran into the deceased owner as the readers get a small flashback to Kaito Kuroba reverse pickpocketing the necklace. It’s an interesting conversation to have in the first Kid case since 1412 aired, especially since this aspect of Kid’s MO hasn’t really been discussed in any concrete way in DC before this point.

The second thing it does is have a small but nonetheless amusing B Plot with Okiya. While taking pictures of potential targets for his disguise, Kaito inadvertently gets a picture of Okiya’s voice changer. So Okiya joins Conan in confronting Kid in the bathroom and Very Nicely requests they get that picture back. Kaito has an “oh shit” moment, gets the heck outta dodge, and the chapter ends on a comical note when Kid can’t escape because Nakamori refuses to stop looking for him.

The next DC chapter, Fairy’s Lips, does a little bit of 1 and a little bit of 2. Surprisingly enough, Heiji has not had a significant confrontation with Kid in the manga before, and now Kid is getting himself involved in his and Kazuha’s romance plot. This chapter is retroactively significant because it’s the key jumping-off point for Heiji and Kid’s relationship in M27. But it’s also surprisingly significant for the MAIN main plot of Detective Conan by bringing in Koumei as a secondary detective that’s working to capture Kid… because he’s in Tokyo to receive a mysterious envelope addressed to him. The truth of the envelope’s contents is an Extremely Big Deal, and though by this point in the manga I was fully aware that plot developments would often happen in otherwise standalone cases now, I was personally not ready for that in a Kid case. So there’s that.

Between these two cases is the Magic Kaito heist Sun Halo, which puts a focus on Aoko for the first time in a while. It’s also very minorly a Magic Kaito version of a suspicion arc - the first one since Kaitou Kid’s Busy Day Off - though it ends with a return to the status quo. This chapter, as mentioned way earlier, also features some magic shenanigans from Akako in a more concrete way than we’d seen in a while. There’s some stuff about these chapters that are more disturbing the longer you think about them (what do you Mean Kaito just carries some blood neutralizing spray around with him so people can’t figure out his identity based on his blood), and the general tone is a lot more somber because Kaito is suffering from both pain and blood loss. It feels like an extension of Midnight Crow’s tone, in that regard.

After these three chapters is our next Kid movie, Fist of Blue Sapphire. This movie features a romance subplot between Sonoko and Kyogoku, and thus brings Kid back into it via certain aspects of the movie plot. As a post-1412 movie, the major feature of this movie is not the plot, but the thematic underpinnings of said plot.

Many post-Blue Birthday Magic Kaito heists tend to overlap aspects of Kaito’s situation with that of the characters introduced in the heist. The feature character of Red Tear is a woman who has grown to hate magic after the untimely death of her parents. The titular Dark Knight lives a double life as a notorious criminal for his son’s sake, and Kaito works to make sure his son never finds out about that double life. The thief in Golden Eye is attempting to salvage her father’s legacy. If they aren’t straight parallels, then they present what-if scenarios or twists on what Kaito is going through.

Fist of Blue Sapphire pulls something similar with Rishi, one of the movie-original characters. He’s torn up enough by his father’s death that he chooses to dirty his hands in order to get his revenge. After Midnight Crow, where Toichi himself wants to ensure that revenge is not Kaito’s only driving force, this presents a what-if scenario - an alternate path that Kaito might have chosen, had his admiration for his father not won out over his grief at his death. It’s interesting to see this particular thematic through line in a Detective Conan movie because it’s never been shown in a Detective Conan manga case before, and it’s one of the reasons I’m particularly fond of Chika Nagaoka’s Kid movies.

Another major aspect of this movie is how the sheer amount of screen presence Kid has gives the movie ample time to show what more involved cooperation between Kid and Conan looks like. The second Kid is framed for the crime, he chooses to go to Conan; if Kid looks to be in genuine danger, Conan begrudgingly comes to his aid. They spend time talking over the aspects of the case, and work seamlessly together during the climax. It’s by far the most actively cooperative they’ve been before or since, but it doesn’t come out of nowhere (and the spirit doesn’t quite go away, either). The clearest indication of this change in relationship is the line spoken by Kaito after he’s dealt with his wounds on the roof: “A magician makes you believe he holds something within his clenched fist, and a detective guesses correctly what they hold before it’s ever revealed.” It’s a stark contrast to probably his most famous line from Black Star about phantom thieves being artists and detectives being no more than critics.

Fist of Blue Sapphire happens to be one of those movies that I personally have any concrete info about via things like guidebooks. I don’t want to bloat this more than it already is, so there’s only two things I read that I want to share.

The first is Kappei Yamaguchi’s seeming reaction to the script during recording, specifically in regards to his laugh. Normally, Kid in Detective Conan has had a sort of booming, open laugh, but twice during the recording for Fist of Blue Sapphire he opted to go for a version of the laugh as written out in Magic Kaito - an “ahaha” vs a “kekeke” kinda difference. He talks about this in the Kaitou Kid Secret Archives, but an online article on the movie from Movie Walker expands on this from Nagaoka’s point of view:

This time, we have a lot of aspects from “Magic Kaito” and Kaitou Kid’s true face in this movie. The moment I thought “This is just Kaito” was during ADR, when Yamguchi Kappei-san laughed like ‘hihi!’ Kappei-san said to me “I did it even though I thought it’d be struck out.” (lol) I could tell in those words that he met this movie with his own interpretation. I was impressed. We have a very cool Kid as a result.

It’s also in the Secret Archives interview that we get the “His speed may be at 100, but he has zero combat ability at all” comment from Gosho to Nagaoka, which is… extremely funny.

The other major thing from the Secret Archives interview (and elsewhere) is an anecdote about a certain regret. Nagaoka herself seems to be a big fan of Magic Kaito, but after M23 was released to theaters, Gosho lamented that he should have had Kid allude to Aoko. This was brought up again in a more recent Animage article: “Actually, back during Fist of Blue Sapphire, Aoyama-sensei had told me something akin to ‘We should have had Kid say “I have a better sapphire (Aoko) already” when he returns the blue sapphire,’ and I responded ‘You’re going to tell me that now, Sensei?!”

This is all to say that, despite the lack of any obvious elements akin to Jii in M19, they were clearly thinking of Magic Kaito while making M23.

The subsequent DC chapters continue the “Kid, meet [Character]” trend with Amuro (and Kazami) in Queen’s Bang. He’s a fairly active part of the process, not the least of which because Kid belittled his card trick skills as they were lining up to enter the museum. Though this chapter doesn’t have a relevant B Plot, it is the first reference to Kid’s presence in Mystery Train since Blush Mermaid - and a pretty significant one at that, since Amuro was the one that actually had to deal with “Sherry.”

Siren Splash’s main character introduction is actually Azusa, which feels a bit like a follow up on the minor role she had in Queen’s Bang. This case has a couple of fun things that sort of cover the entire spectrum of ways in which a Kid case could be fun for our purposes. The least significant of these is Kid’s skates, which (if memory serves) haven’t been seen since chapter 10 of Magic Kaito. Gosho mentions wanting to use them again in his Treasured Edition comment on that case, so it’s a lot of fun to finally see them show up again.

Going up to slightly more significant, there’s a Very Ominous Comment from Kanenori about his left eye, which serves as foreshadowing to information we find out about him about a volume later. And then we have the end of the case, which is a little difficult to talk about because we don’t have any elucidating information yet. Regardless, I’ve always been amused that, despite Conan being the talk of the various police departments, he’s largely avoided being in the news… except where Kid is involved. It seems that’s finally coming to a head with the older gentleman that is none too pleased about the news story covering Conan’s victory. We don’t know what role this man has yet, but if this has ties to the main plot, then this is a very amusing way in which Kid has affected the main plot.

There’s not much else of note to say about this series of chapters, because it’s largely continuing the trends of the era that led to 1412’s release and codifying a less mysterious Kid, and an (at times) more cooperative Conan. But it’s also a comparatively sparse number of chapters; in the over seven years since 1412, Kid had only featured in four chapters here. You probably wouldn’t expect any major developments from a precedent like that, right?

…Right?

Erasing the Line in the Sand

We have now entered the modern era - specifically, the immediate lead-up to M27. Recency means some of these things are going to be a little bit harder to extrapolate on, largely because we have no idea if this is the start of something new, or perhaps just an outlier in the general trend. Regardless, some of this stuff fully makes my brain spin. Never mind brainworms - I have brain bees, and they will not stop buzzing.

We start with the most-recent Kid case in Detective Conan as of this writing, Azure Throne. This particular case is significant for multiple reasons, besides just being a good time. First, it’s Hakuba’s first appearance in Detective Conan since Detective Koshien, which means it’s been a whole seventeen years. Help. It’s arguably also the closest it comes to a proper Hakuba vs Kid case in Detective Conan, since Twilight Mansion is a little too busy with other aspects of its plot to spend much (if any) time on Hakuba’s relationship with Kid. Hakuba is also just a little insane, given his plan was to airlift the entire observation deck and sink it into a pool to trap Kid… There’s some minor Magic Kaito gag energy in that idea, and Hakuba’s never done things by halves.

Next, we have yet another reference to Kid’s presence in Mystery Train. Queen’s bang was only a couple years ago, and in Conan Publishing Time that’s no time at all considering Mystery Train was back in 2012. It’s interesting to get two references to that particular case so close together.

And speaking of references, my third point of interest for this case is that it straight up references Golden Eye. There’s even an illustration of Cartier, the security company manager that Nakamori is thinking about when he responds to Jirokichi’s comment. Magic Kaito has certainly referenced Detective Conan before, and 1412 itself pulls heists whole-sale from it to fill out its runtime. But this is the first time it’s gone the other way around.

It’s also, somehow, the very first time Kid has assumed the Shinichi Kudo disguise in the manga. And even more surprisingly, it’s done so at Conan’s request. Sure, Kid was the one begging Conan to free him of suspicion for the murder that just happened, but “disguise yourself as me and make sure Ran doesn’t find out” was the condition Conan put forward for his cooperation.

This connects to the fifth and sixth points that I’m concerned with. The fifth point is Ran herself; she has a comment toward the end about how she can’t forgive Kid for “disguising as Shinichi every single time.” Which is, you know. Kinda weird, if all we’re considering is manga continuity. This is his very first time assuming this disguise in the manga! So in Gosho’s mind, at least, the movies aren’t not canon. Considering more recent movies are more likely to require “homework” to fully enjoy them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were more carefully written to slot into canon more easily than early movies were.

The sixth and most hilarious point is a single aside in a conversation Kid and Conan have.

Actually, why do you look so similar to me?

Why would I know?! Maybe we have a shared ancestor or something. (To be honest… I’m not even changing my voice much, either…)

Now, the addition of that voice comment makes the whole thing sound like a gag - they do have the same seiyuu, after all - but their similarity has always been a bit of a gag… In the movies. Thinking back on it, I’m not sure it’s ever really been brought up in the manga, so this is a joke that feels almost necessary after Conan requested Kid to disguise himself as “Shinichi,” which Kid managed to do despite being not at all prepared for it.

And, you know. It’s also foreshadowing now. Not by much, considering the movie was only a few months out, but still.

tl;dr: There’s a lot going on in Azure Throne. It is probably the densest of the Kid cases in terms of its relationship to itself and its relationship to Magic Kaito. As a result of that, there’s something about this case that feels like the purest mix of Magic Kaito and Detective Conan. It also feels pretty clearly written with the movie in mind, considering it not only had the aforementioned foreshadowing, but also brought in ideas from previous movies into the manga to create synergy between them.

After that we have Green Dragon, a Magic Kaito heist that ran through M27’s theater release. Meeting Aoko’s mother is certainly a standout of this particular heist, but what I personally find more interesting is the tone. It eschews the steady creep of drama into the narrative by pulling back to something more comedic, and in some ways feels a little like a return to form. Kaito’s fear of fish is brought up again for the first time in ages, and Midoriko gets a whole host of muscle men to corner Kid.

The chapter also opens with a reference to the crimes (as Midoriko would prosecute them) Kid committed in Queen’s Bang. In terms of time, it’s been over ten years since the last MK heist referenced DC in any meaningful way. But in terms of heist count, Phantom Lady was only three heists ago.

It is at this point I must discuss the movie, The Million-dollar Pentagram. As the movie is not yet out on Blu-ray as of this writing and the international offerings were a bit spotty (especially outside of Asia), I want to give another spoiler warning for the information I’m about to go into. I mentioned earlier that later movies require a bit of “homework” for full enjoyment, and M27 is no exception. It has also turned into one of the more common complaints I see from casual DC movie enjoyers, at least on the Japanese side of things - because yes, there is a whole audience of people whose only exposure to the franchise is the yearly movie. While the most easily recognizable pieces of “homework” for this particular movie are clearly cases like Fairy’s Lips or even M21 for familiarity with Momiji and Heiji’s attempts to confess to Kazuha, it is also very much arguable that the second major pillar of this movie requires a working knowledge of Magic Kaito. Like, not just knowing who Kaitou Kid is, but knowing who Kaito Kuroba is.

Which means I’m going to be talking about a lot of this movie in concrete detail. The main thrust of the movie is, to put it very simply, a treasure hunt. What I discuss will give you very few clues as to how or why that mystery is solved, but it will end up touching on key events, motives, and emotional beats. If you’d rather keep yourself unspoiled so as to enjoy those aspects as well, please skip to my discussion on FILE.0. You can find that by scrolling to below the second horizontal line, or doing a Ctrl+F search on “FILE.0.” That being said, there will also be more concrete references to the post-credits scene everyone knows about by this point in the final section of this retrospective as well.

——

There’s a lot I want to discuss with regards to M27, but it’s frankly hard to conceive of how I’d go about it. Going through the movie chronologically would take far too long, so I think I largely just want to list up a few interesting elements and then dive into what significance I think those elements hold. For the curious, I saw this movie twice in theaters: once about a week after premier, and again when they were running English subtitles at certain locations.

Let’s start at the beginning, with the most amusing thing this movie did before it was even released: the lack of a pre-screening. Movies like these usually have a seiyuu event of some kind attached to an early screening of the movie that fans can attend via lottery a little while before the official release, but they used the framing device of Kid “stealing the pre-screening” to avoid holding one at all. This isn’t strictly related to anything I’ll discuss further, but it is amusing to think that they believed the information presented in this movie was important and significant enough that they didn’t want to risk people talking ahead of the official release. And, you know, it WAS, but we’re not getting into that just yet.

Also somewhat minorly was the cover of an-an being Shinichi and Kaito, as opposed to Conan and Kid or even Shinichi and Kid. There’s also been a handful of DC merch that includes both Kaito and Kid in the lineup, and I don’t think stuff like this has happened since 1412 aired. It’s clear in hindsight they were focusing on his civilian identity because of his motive in the film and the reveal in the stinger.

As for the movie itself, I want to start REALLY basic, and actually talk about the score of the movie. The Million-dollar Pentagram is the first Kid film since Yugo Kanno took over from Katsuo Ohno for the movie soundtracks. This normally wouldn’t matter too much, except for the fact that Kaitou Kid has utilized a variation on the same two themes since The Last Wizard of the Century. There was apparently quite a bit of back and forth as to how to handle this aspect of the soundtrack, but in the end they went with a completely new theme: The Grand Circus (華麗なるサーカス). If you’re reading this and somehow haven’t heard it before, I highly recommend you give it a listen. It serves as his calling card throughout the movie and is a much more playful tune. I can’t help thinking about Toichi’s conversation with Kaito in Hustler vs Magician about how the pierrot is the most important member of the circus (yet another reason I’m glad this chapter got salvaged in the 1412 adaptation). I definitely don’t dislike his old themes, but I do enjoy that the vibe of this one expresses a side of Kid in Detective Conan that has seen more screen time lately, but has until now had no musical motif to express it.

Another amusing part of this soundtrack is a certain melody, only a couple bars long, that repeats throughout the entire score. This melody just so happens to play during the final major reveal of the movie: that Toichi had been disguised as Yoshihisa Kawasoe the entire time. Kawasoe is a local detective that is in and out of the movie for almost its entire runtime. Toichi was, in essence, with us the entire time. Just like this melody was, weaved in and out of the soundtrack. It’s a nice touch. Kanno mentions in the Toho Cinemas guidebook that there’s very little impact to a melody introduced in the final moments, and that he wanted to inspire a sense of deja vu alongside surprise by accompanying that final reveal alongside a melody that had played the entire time. It’s kinda neat.

As for Kid’s behavior in this movie, it’s informed entirely by his desire to discover why his dad apparently went after this “potentially world-destroying” treasure, found it, and then left it alone. There’s an overlap between this and his motive in M19, considering both are more personal in nature, but M27’s motive is also far more fundamental to Magic Kaito. Kid is mentioned multiple times to have an assistant of some kind in Detective Conan chapters, but the only mention of his dad is that 1) he exists, and 2) he was the previous Kid. He’s not at all connected to Kid’s search for Pandora or his reason to be the second Kid in the first place, so bringing his dad into things as a motive feels more poignant if you know Kaito’s always been chasing him. Which is to say, it relies a bit more on knowing Kaito’s personal story from Magic Kaito.

The plot leans into this “if you know, you know” vibe by having Kaito only ever indirectly refer to his dad. When he explains why he’s searching for these swords to Conan and Heiji, he only refers to “a certain thief.” In a moment of respite, he only just barely gets to say the first sounds of “dad” before he’s interrupted by one of our culprits. It’s not said in any capacity until the very end of the movie, when the treasure is found alongside Toichi’s glove and a notice from Kid the first: “Wake not a sleeping lion.”

Going back to Heiji and Conan, he’s not openly cooperative with them until they save him from near death. It’s at that point they share info and Kid ropes them into solving this puzzle because it’s what they do best. The rest of their cooperation in the movie usually takes the shape of a “2+1” format. Conan and Heiji are obviously working together while Kid comes in and out via a number of disguises. There’s a comedy to his disguises in this film, since they’re almost too easy to see through. It’s likely in part so Heiji and Conan can be aware of his presence, since they’re technically working together. Minami Takayama also picks up on this in her movie pamphlet interview, adding that he “seems more open and honest this time, probably because that’s just how badly he wants to solve this mystery” and that it feels more like “Kaito Kuroba and Shinichi Kudo have taken a step closer” as opposed to it just being Kid and Conan this time around. Kappei Yamaguchi in the same set of interviews says he’s “basically Kaito” with Conan, even if he still mostly behaves as Kid with Heiji.

To summarize, Kid’s behavior in this movie is far more open due to the goal being tied to his dad, and with Conan specifically the mask is basically off. Add this to the comedic touch of his disguises throughout, and you’ve got some good Magic Kaito vibes despite his reduced screen time compared to M23.

But that only lays the foundation for those vibes. There are plenty of other reasons why it feels more Magic Kaito-y, given key aspects of this movie bring in more aspects of Kaito’s civilian life - and certain emotional beats rely on your knowledge of that.

To start with a more minor beat that wraps up things mentioned above: Toichi’s glove. Kaito takes it with him after discovering the treasure, and there’s a short scene while he’s flying through the sky (after a more significant moment we’ll discuss later) that sees him looking at the glove with a frankly mixed expression. The novelization of the movie mentions him smiling happily as he soars through the sky, but that is not the expression we actually see in the movie. He has Thoughts about finding his dad’s glove there, but the audience is left to guess what they may be. It’s a hole that’s nearly impossible to fill without knowing Kaito’s backstory (and, arguably, without knowing about Midnight Crow).

And we’ll get to Midnight Crow’s significance, just you wait.

The second beat I want to talk about is Nakamori. First (and more minorly) is his engagement in some true gag Magic Kaito energy. A short scene with a disguised Kaito at a hotel alongside Conan and Heiji ends with Nakamori up against the window, looking in with multiple police officers behind him, as he realizes he’s found Kid. Kid then runs, and Nakamori and his officers run across the screen as Conan and Heiji continue their conversation. Real goofy hours.

But the actual most important story beat with Nakamori is him getting shot by one of our antagonists. He’a shot while on duty and escorting another principle character, and the framing of the movie puts us in Kid’s shoes as he discovers a gun aimed at the both of them just a little too late. This decision carries with it a couple of interesting tidbits, whether they be for our purposes or for how it seemed to affect the people that worked on it.

I want to do the latter first, since the snowballing is less extreme. Yamaguchi has talked about this scene a number of times, whether it be in interviews or during seiyuu events. As a voice actor, he was surprised at his own performance as Kid yells out Nakamori’s name. It was desperate and loud in a way he’d never been before, but it still felt natural to him; he thought it was indicative of just how important Nakamori is to Kaito, and that this was less Detective Conan’s Kid and more Magic Kaito’s Kaito Kuroba.

Related to this is a comment he made at a stage event that in his heart, he’d wanted to say “ojisan” instead of “Inspector Nakamori.” But he felt that it would be too difficult to display their relationship that way, so he went with the latter. There’s a lot of character interpretation you can do with regards to what Kaito chose to say in the moment, but I also can’t deny the possibility that it simply comes down to the “Kaito and Nakamori” dynamic not appearing in Detective Conan at all. Well, at least in part.

The other major ramification of this narrative decision is actually Aoko’s appearance in the movie. Nagaoka recounts in multiple interviews, such as in Febri or Animage, that she originally felt the tension in the movie was a little too slow-going, so she suggested someone get shot. The original plan suggested shooting Nishimura, the Hokkaido police detective, but Gosho said Kid wouldn’t save him if that was the case. It was here Nagaoka suggested Nakamori, to which Gosho agreed. He then added, though, that if he was in the hospital, then Aoko would likely show up.

Thus we have Aoko’s first theatrical appearance, and her first appearance in Detective Conan at all since Black Star. Her appearance in this movie grounds Kid’s emotional narrative in Magic Kaito; it implies the existence of Kaito Kuroba in ways Hakuba or Nakamori never could, because her significance rests entirely in his civilian identity. There are scenes dedicated to Kaito watching over her in disguise as she waits for her father to wake up, only leaving once she seems to be okay. He’s on the phone with her in one of the last scenes in the movie, and his smile when he ends the call is the softest it’s ever been in Detective Conan.

That’s not all, though. In a cute example of the movie affecting the manga, Gosho told Nagaoka later on that a gesture Aoko performs - a two-handed clap to the face that helps her psych herself up - was brought back into Magic Kaito for his April serialization. We see Midoriko do the very same gesture when she wakes up after her quick nap, as it turns out.

There’s something else I want to mention about Aoko, but that fits better elsewhere. So before we talk about the elephant in the room, I want to mention the theme of the movie. Both Nagaoka and Takahiro Okura, the script writer, have described the movie as dealing with “parent-child relationships” and “inheritance.” All of the antagonists follow after their forefathers in some way, but it’s an idea most obviously expressed by Hijiri Fukushiro, the main movie-original character. The complicated feelings he has about following in his father’s footsteps, and the things he does as a result, can all too easily be compared to Kaito’s own struggles. As I mentioned earlier, Nagaoka does something similar with M23, but it’s even more powerful here because Kaito is just as determined to chase after his dad as the many other characters in the narrative are to deal with the legacies their forefathers left them.

So.

Elephant in the room.

The ship-breaking shot heard round the world.

Shinichi Kudo and Kaito Kuroba are cousins, and their fathers are twins.

I want to just trace this thread throughout the movie, in as brief a form as possible.

It starts with the very first confrontation between Kid and Heiji. When Heiji gets the upper hand and knocks Kid’s monocle off, cutting through the brim of his hat in the process, the moon peeks through the clouds and gives Heiji a clear view of Kid’s face. He’s immediately shocked to discover he resembles Shinichi.

Heiji has a couple of moments following that clearly illustrates he’s ruminating on this. When he first sees Conan, he crouches down and takes Conan’s face by the chin, examining him. When Kid and Conan banter on the train, Heiji sits behind them, a confused but thoughtful look on his face.

Shortly after the above, Heiji confronts Conan: “Do you have any siblings?” He brings up the physical and vocal resemblance Kid has to Shinichi, but Conan brushes it off. “It’s a coincidental resemblance. It happened by chance.” Heiji drops the subject, but there’s an argument to be had that the way Conan says that last line sure is suspicious.

The movie follows the main plot until Aoko’s introduction. In one scene with her, Heiji, and Conan, she watches the latter two talk with interest. She crouches to the ground and stares at Conan, telling him that she’s reminded of her childhood friend’s younger years when she sees him. This is the first time their resemblance has ever been phrased as “You look like Kid/Kaito,” as opposed to the more common reverse. Nagaoka remarks in an interview that Aoko’s presence in this movie presented the perfect chance to further thread the foreshadowing of their resemblance throughout the film, and personally I rather enjoy that one aspect of this foreshadowing comes from the Magic Kaito angle.

Post-credits. Yukiko is surprised to discover Yusaku has an older twin brother. Yusaku is a little…cagey, in my opinion. He expresses mild surprise he hasn’t mentioned it before, says they keep in regular contact despite not seeing each other in over 20 years, mentions he receives gifts every once in a while (including the extremely plot-relevant missing sword) and hints to Yukiko that she’s likely met him before. As she continues to guess who it might be, Yusaku attempts to change the subject to his new book; he wants her opinions on it. This is when he receives a text praising his most recent novel, signed by “TK,” and Yusaku smiles. The scene cuts to a skyline view and Kawasoe standing atop a tower of some kind. He looks at his phone: “Thank you, Nii-san! YK.” He laughs, and the disguise comes off, revealing a smiling Kaitou Corbeau.

Now, I mentioned Midnight Crow earlier, so I want to recover that pin now. Midnight Crow is a Magic Kaito case. It is the case that very strongly implies Toichi’s survival. Absolutely none of this is brought up in Detective Conan in any capacity whatsoever. Not even a REFERENCE to a “Kaitou Kid in black.” I’ve seen multiple stories, whether they be about themselves or about others they went with or saw in the theater, about people that were simply confused as to why THIS was the stinger in this film. I even have a personal anecdote myself, given I dragged my roommate with me to the movie and what surface knowledge she had did not do anything to help her understand what the heck was going on in the post-credits scene.

Within the film, in the vacuum of this one movie, the connection between Kawasoe and “the guy that wears a monocle like Kid who seems vaguely threatening” is actually really well foreshadowed! It’s even BETTER foreshadowed if you know Magic Kaito, because the relationship between Hijiri and his dad has parallels to Kaito and his dad. Because Kaito’s first disguise in the movie and Toichi’s disguise throughout used the exact same method: taking advantage of someone’s vacation, and thus their absence. Because you know this man is Kaito’s dad, the thief who found this treasure before and chose not to steal it, and is now taking advantage of Kawasoe’s klutzy nature to give Heiji and Conan information so they can find and protect it.

As far as Kaito and Shinichi’s resemblance is concerned, it was always used as a joke in previous films. Considering how long this running joke went, I imagine that made their blood relationship that much harder to accept. It was clear they were doing something different with it from the very start of this movie, though, when Heiji’s reaction to the resemblance isn’t played for laughs and it just kept coming up.

This also doesn’t necessarily come out of nowhere. The earliest piece of info that I can personally confirm is from a six-page interview with Gosho in a 2011 issue of Hayakawa Mystery Magazine celebrating the release of M15. After the interviewer implies that the similarity between Kid and Shinichi may be due to Kid being written first as a protagonist (further implying it’s a stylistic “protagonist” thing), Gosho replied, “Their resemblance is not just because of the order they were written in, but because there’s a secret backstory. There’s no way someone that looks so similar exists, you know? (lol) As for why, look forward to it, I suppose.” In the No. 22-23 2024 issue of Shonen Sunday, Gosho also has a little cheeky comment saying he’s relieved he was finally able to talk about Kid’s secret…

The other comment complicating the timing of when Gosho would have first considered this is a comment from Yamaguchi during a later screening of M27 alongside the seiyuu. According to fan reports, he mentioned being told that Kid had a “secret backstory” when he was given the offer to voice him. Combined with the fact that Gosho had apparently specifically chosen Yamaguchi despite the latter already being onboard as Shinichi, and Gosho choosing to go with a Kid cameo in DC in the first place because he wanted to introduce a regular rival… Maybe the idea of them being related existed well before that 2011 interview.

You might be able to tell, given how much I have written about M27 alone, that I think it’s a very interesting movie from a Magic Kaito perspective. It borrows from it the most by far, and I have to agree with the Febri interviewer when they said this movie has the biggest crossover between the worlds of Magic Kaito and Detective Conan by far. Because aspects of the theme, Kid’s motivations, and the entire post-credits scene are frankly lost on you if you’ve never bothered to read Magic Kaito. It’s a very funny thing for the “yearly event movie” to do, if I’m being honest, but this movie relies on the strengthening ties the two stories have made over the years. It sure did break box office records, though, so it seemingly worked out for them.

My only question at this point is whether further media, manga or movie, will pick up on the movie’s main revelation.

——

Since merch releases and promotion for M28 are ramping up, I wasn’t expecting much out of the Magic Kaito or Kaitou Kid mines for a while. Imagine my surprise, then, when FILE.0 was finally released as part of the special rerelease of Volume 1. At a mere four pages, one could barely call it an extra chapter; if it could be called anything at all, it’s more like an omake of sorts. Here we have Shinichi taking a trip to Tropical Land to plan out his date with Ran - and with Fate, of course.

It’s honestly pretty cute, the way he’s likely taking way too many notes on what he could do there. But what ends up happening is Shinichi stumbles upon a scene from Magic Kaito (Kaitou Kid’s Busy Day Off, to be exact), right as Kaito says his embarrassing line about ice cream being as sweet as it is cold. Shinichi is taken aback at how cringe this guy’s being, but he likes the idea of ending his date here by the fountain, so he takes notes regardless.

Did we really just put Shinichi in a scene from Magic Kaito for a rerelease of Detective Conan’s inaugural volume? With Kaito and Aoko, right there? It feels so small and so silly, but I still can’t get it out of my brain. The last time Kaito and Aoko showed up just as normal people in front of our main cast in any capacity was in Black Star, and I’ve already mentioned that this appearance makes the chapter feel even more like a crossover. But now, after everything that’s happened, they show up again. Maybe the line in the sand is still there, but I think it’s moved.

Final Thoughts & Hot Takes

The very nature of Kid originally being from another older series means I have no idea where we actually go from here with all of this. I have no major expectations at all for when or how or IF Shinichi and Kaito being related will be brought into the manga in any capacity, largely because there’s very little precedent for it. You have things like Ran already knowing Momiji in the manga even though they only ever had a “first meeting” in M21, or James Black knowing about Akai’s survival first being confirmed in M18, but stuff like that that’s a pretty rare occurrence. Even so, Takayama and Yamaguchi discuss the idea themselves in an Animage interview. She mentions that the movies seem more connected to the manga nowadays, while he muses at the idea of Fairy’s Lip leading into M27, which may very well then lead back into the manga.

Regardless, I don’t think anyone would argue if you said Magic Kaito felt more integrated into Detective Conan now than it did 20+ years ago, when Kid was first appearing in the manga and movies.

So to cap everything off, I think some Hot Takes are in order.

The cousin reveal isn’t actually all that bad. I’ve admittedly been on this particular train for a decade, so this was like every national holiday and then some rolled into one. I definitely have some questions about things like Shinichi’s Childhood Adventure or Yukiko’s relationship with Toichi, but for me personally none of them really snap this reveal in two. Nor do I think it dampens the way they were brought together as detective and thief, especially since I think you could reasonably argue that Toichi and Yusaku maintained their distance not only due to the divorce, but because of Toichi’s new profession. “Over 20 years ago” puts them at probably no more than a couple years before Toichi became Kid, when he was likely traveling for his magic show, as opposed to the young age they apparently were when their parents divorced. It’s also made fairly clear in DC that Yusaku knew who Kid’s civilian identity was… or at the very least, that’s how I read that interaction. If they intentionally kept their halves of the family from meeting, then it’s pretty incredible Shinichi and Kaito met at all. If the manga touches on them being related in any capacity - and again, I have no clue how likely that actually is - then it’s not going to suddenly supersede the relationship they have now. It’ll just add to it, assuming they chose to entertain it at all, and that complexity could be fun. This is all admittedly personal, of course; my shipping preference leans very heavily into “weird platonic relationships,” so that informs this particular take by quite a wide margin.

1412 is the ideal way to consume Magic Kaito. I don’t know how much I even like this hot take, but I can’t help thinking it’s true regardless. It more closely resembles Detective Conan in tone and vibes than it resembles its own source manga in a couple of key ways, so I do actually think this - over either the manga or the TMS adaptation - is the way they want people new to Magic Kaito to consume it, especially if they’re coming in from Detective Conan. That Gosho created a new finale for it, and did so by pulling out the “Toichi is actually alive” card, is also fairly telling. And if people like it enough and want more, the manga is still plenty available.

Magic Kaito has become a Detective Conan spin-off. I think I also hate this take, but I also believe it to be true in any way that functionally matters. We must respect that Magic Kaito came first - that Kaito and Aoko and Hakuba came first - but Kid’s modern popularity can be almost entirely attributed to Detective Conan. And honestly, I have to wonder if it’s still running, albeit irregularly, because of that. Phantom Lady jumps off of Ryoma’s Gunbelt, Green Dragon references Queen’s Bang and takes a quirk from the movie for both Aoko and Midoriko. The tone does a clear shift after DC begins serialization as well, and goes even further into mystery solving after Kid makes his first appearance in DC. If you didn’t know any better, you might think it was similar to something like Zero’s Tea Time: a spin-off for a crazy popular character. It’s not, and it never actually will be, because Magic Kaito came first. But I think it sort of has become one.

The line in the sand is not bad, until it is. I don’t actually mind the parallel worlds argument, largely because I can understand what kind of slippery slope Akako is for the logic-driven Detective Conan. There’s also a part of me that doesn’t really mind Kid plots being largely stand-alone, with little to no involvement with the main plot. I could even also buy the two shady organizations actually being different, if and when we ever get information about MK’s organization. But after coming this far, and developing Conan and Kid’s relationship to the level that you have, I think not delving into who Kid is when he takes off the costume becomes the more contrived option. Gosho’s said before that solving the DC plot will not simultaneously solve the MK plot due to those organizations being different; I don’t think that means Kid should be verboten from Black Organization plots entirely. I don’t think it means Kid shouldn’t maybe suffer a consequence or two for being so open and casual with Conan, or that we can’t have a running side plot involving him. But then you run into the problem of Magic Kaito being its own series, and if you erase the line in the sand - if you let Kaito Kuroba be in Detective Conan - what do you do with Magic Kaito? The two worlds have overlapped so heavily with M27 that I almost wonder if we’re at a breaking point. Maybe this is the real Pandora’s box.

Kaitou Kid is a Detective Conan character, but Kaito Kuroba might not be… yet. I think DC has claimed Kid for its own. Especially the performance of Kid as displayed by the man behind the mask. But that mask has been chipping away, and Kaito himself is usually the one speaking to Conan at this point in both the manga and the movies. Even so, to so many people, that’s still just Kaitou Kid. I’ve seen disappointment expressed at that suave gentleman thief from the Black Star and M3 era being nowhere in sight in modern times, and it’s because it was always an act. You can’t keep up that act when you choose to trust someone, and they trust you back. You just… start becoming yourself. But he’s not truly himself in DC yet, despite the few scant appearances of Kaito himself we’ve received. For some reason, Kaito Kuroba still feels like a crossover character, and his appearance some special event, compared to Kaitou Kid. FILE.0 was a surprise in this regard, but in relation to the above, I have to wonder: Should Kaito himself ever feel as entrenched in DC as Kid is?

Kaito Kuroba - who many and more know as Kaitou Kid - is such a funny character if you think about him for more than a few seconds. His popularity in the Detective Conan vacuum is more than warranted, given his back and forth with Conan, but I really do want to believe that it’s the duality of his appearances in Magic Kaito and Detective Conan that contributes to this popularity. If M27 and some of the recent trends in both DC and MK are anything to go by, maybe I’m not so far off the mark.

We’ll likely get more stuff to enjoy in the meantime, but I’m currently looking ahead to Magic Kaito’s 40th anniversary in 2027 and hoping we get another movie… Or maybe another major manga arc. If you’ve managed to read all of this, you have my deepest gratitude! I hope this adventure was as enlightening for you to read as it was for me to write.

#dcmk #detective conan #magic kaito #kaitou kid #kaito kuroba #m27 #the million-dollar pentagram #this was originally written in an online doc #please let me know if you think that would be easier to read!#this is functionally the script of one of those mega long retrospective videos on youtube #also i've definitely proofread this but god knows there are still mistakes somewhere lmao

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glossdebut · 1 month ago

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Take a Bite Ch. 7

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: copious amounts of FEELINGS both good and bad, theatre references LOL, world-class meddler kim seokjin, yoongi being hopelessly whipped, angst, smut

✧ WORDCOUNT: 10.3k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: WOW. i don't even know what to say... with this chapter, take a bite is officially complete. THANK YOU so much to those of you who have been reading from the very beginning and sending me such kind words. this story means so much to me and i can't believe it's over. thank you again to @love4myg for beta reading this chapter and the last!! everybody go give tanni some love. i love you all! i tried to give this story the ending it deserves so i hope you enjoy the last chapter <3

Chapter 7: Wanna Do It All Over Again

You’re a planner, a scheduler. You keep a minimum of six to-do lists at a time. You do your best work when your week is clearly laid out for you within the confines of the neat little boxes on your calendar. So you allot yourself one day to grieve what could’ve been with Min Yoongi, and that’s it.

Your Sunday is spent wallowing, because Rina doesn’t give you any choice in the matter and you don’t have it in you to put up a fight. She seems a little bit like she’s grasping at straws on how to help you, though.

You don’t blame her. Rina had dropped everything to be by your side when your ex ended things, but the remedy for that was pretty straightforward.

There was the initial crying on your part—the intense and nauseating kind that felt like it would never stop, until Rina held you and it inevitably did. After the tears came the anger, the picking apart of every little argument you’d had with him, every quirk of his that had soured from endearing to annoying, and Rina had no problem talking shit. Anger turned into drinking, and drinking led to falling asleep in a heap together on your couch.

It didn’t magically fix the hollowness inside of you overnight, but it helped. Rina had a patented method to make a broken heart a little more bearable.

A patented method that, unfortunately, doesn’t really apply here. Your heart isn’t broken over a failed situationship. You’ve been crying, sure, but it’s more of a passive sniffle than anything else. You can’t bring yourself to feel angry at Yoongi either. Confused, annoyed, disappointed, stupid—all of those you can feel just fine. But the anger just won’t come.

Desperate, Rina defaults to cliches. Cheesy movies, ice cream, face masks—the stuff straight out of a ‘How To Get Over Your Ex In Ten Easy Steps’ article in a teen magazine. She paints your nails while you stare blankly at Julia Stiles’ face on your TV. You force yourself to believe it’s helping. You have work to do, a deadline to meet. So if you need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with Rina and cry it out to cleanse your brain of Yoongi, so be it.

You refuse to use a sick day in general, let alone because of a man, but you do grant yourself permission to work from home on Monday. Not because you’re still grieving—that’s what Sunday was for—but because you look like you’ve been run over, dumped into the river and then fished out.

With greasy hair and puffy eyes, you set your phone to do not disturb and hunker down in your bed to write your profile on Yijeong. Despite the burn of your laptop on your thighs, you type and self-edit for hours, pausing only to listen to your recording of Yijeong’s interview and transcribe direct quotes.

You’re able to churn out a subpar first draft before you burn out around four in the afternoon. Your brain is all over the place, and as a result, the profile is nowhere near where it needs to be. But you don’t have it in you to stare at your laptop screen for any longer.

Rina slipped out this morning and made herself scarce so you could work, so you’re alone. You decide to shower first and foremost, something you’ve been putting off for far too long, and then maybe order dinner if you want to shell out extra money towards a delivery fee.

Stretching your legs as you stand, you use some of your few remaining dregs of energy to drag yourself out of bed and into your bathroom, finally shedding yourself of the sweatpants and shirt you’ve been wearing since Sunday morning.

Your mistake is looking in the mirror. The few marks Yoongi made on your body are only just barely beginning to fade, still dark on your skin. You trace a fingertip over the bruise he’d sucked into your breast just days before, so recently that you can still conjure a phantom of the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin. He’d wanted you so fervently then that you’d been sure at that stupid party that he already felt what you did. That he’d just been waiting for you to catch on.

You don’t know what you did wrong, what kind of misstep you could’ve made to make Yoongi withdraw so suddenly like he did, but you wish you could take it back.

When you finally emerge from your shower, you’re no more energized than you were when you entered. At the very least, though, you’re clean, and you decide to reward your efforts with tangsuyuk.

When you turn your phone off of do not disturb, you can’t help but hope, just for a moment, that Yoongi has texted you today.

Instead, you find that Seokjin has.

[4:42] Seokjin: If you’re not too busy, can we meet?

The anger that had been missing in action floods your senses all at once.

Seokjin wants to meet you. Seokjin, who you’ve met once. Meanwhile Yoongi, who allegedly still wants to be your friend, can’t send you a cursory text or, god forbid, walk down the hallway to explain any of this to you.

You are not this girl. You have gone through strenuous effort to build very sturdy, very high walls to ensure that you don’t become this girl—the one who loses sight of what’s important to her for a man who will just fuck her over anyway, leave her high and dry. Disappear with no explanation. Fuck that.

If Yoongi isn’t man enough to let you down easily himself, if he’s going to have Seokjin do it for him, maybe you’re better off without any bullshit excuse. From either of them.

You swipe out of your messages, ordering your hard-earned tangsuyuk first. Once the payment has gone through, you open Seokjin’s message again, fingers shaking as you type out your stilted reply and press send.

[5:03] You: i am too busy. and not interested.

Bitterly, you set your phone back to do not disturb. The delivery driver will knock when your food is here, and you couldn’t care less about whatever Seokjin’s reply could be.

★ ★ ★

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, but now that you’re committed to feeling pissed off, you actually feel a lot better. Maybe it’s the man-hater in you.

You hyperfocus on finishing the profile, the words flowing much easier now that you’re done feeling sorry for yourself. Even when you have to write about Suga and his impact on Yijeong’s career, you aren’t the slightest bit thrown off. By the time you’re done, you’re confident that it’s possibly the best thing you’ve written in a long time, and when you hand it off to Rina for feedback she concurs.

On Wednesday morning, you drop the final draft off on Kevin’s desk for approval, and then spend the next few hours helping out where you’re needed. Everyone in the office is in a frenzy to get the layout of Look Here’s next issue together. You spend your day copy editing and calling sources with last minute follow-up questions.

When all of the articles are squared away, you lurk by the design team in case they need any extra hands. In return, you get to watch the paginator type your headline onto the front cover, which is… a pretty cool moment for you.

You usually hate the week leading up to print day, but knowing that Yijeong’s profile is going to be on the cover, you revel in the chaos of it.

You’re slightly anxious when Kevin calls you into his office right before quitting time, but you try not to let it get to you too much. You know the profile is good.

“Y/N,” Kevin says, tearing his attention away from his computer as you step into his office. It’s a good sign, you think, that he’s looking you in the eyes this time. “Sit down.”

You sit, immediately tapping your foot to try and calm your nerves. “You wanted to see me?”

“I read your piece,” he says, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his desk. But he doesn’t say anything else.

Um… Okay.

“And?” you ask meekly. He looks at you seriously, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“It was incredible,” he says. Fuck, thank god. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Really?” you ask, your whole body relaxing all at once.

“Really,” he insists. “It was well-written, informative, personal. I don’t know how you got him to open up like that, but I hope you can keep doing it.”

You blink at him. “Keep doing it?”

“You can expect more assignments like that starting next week,” Kevin says, smiling at you warmly. Holy fuck. “We’re all very impressed with you. We want to give you bigger responsibilities moving forward.”

“Thank you,” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

“I hope not,” he hums, amused, before turning back to his computer. “Go home and get some rest. Print day tomorrow.”

“I will,” you say, standing up in a flash. You want to call—Rina, you want to call Rina and tell her the good news. “See you tomorrow!”

“Have a good night!” Kevin calls as you leave his office in a hurry.

As you walk back to your desk to grab your bag, it feels more like you’re walking on a cloud. Holy fuck. You were right. This piece was your breakthrough piece, and you proved yourself just like you knew you could. Nothing can bring you down right now.

★ ★ ★

As it turns out, Kim Seokjin is not the kind of guy who takes kindly to being ignored. Based on what you know about him, you probably should’ve been able to figure that out on your own. But you certainly didn’t expect him to ambush you outside of your apartment.

You spotted Seokjin sitting against your door as you made it home from work, although he scrambled to his feet when he noticed you approaching. You wondered how long he’d been sitting there waiting for you to get him. He looked like he was well-prepared to convince you to let him in, a pre-planned speech at the ready, but you didn’t give him the chance, wordlessly letting him inside.

Maybe you were still riding the high of being praised by your boss, but you highly doubted anything Seokjin could say to you would kill your good mood. If he wanted to defend Yoongi’s honor, he was welcome to try.

Your initial impression of Seokjin was that he was boisterous, silly, and a little bit crude. As you sit across from him, all of that still seems to be true, although he seems intent on doing his very best impression of a longsuffering psychiatrist right now.

He sits primly in the armchair opposite the couch you’ve nestled yourself into, his hands steepled together in his lap as he pulls a serious face. It looks strange on him.

“I’d like to preface by saying that you and Yoongi are both being stupid.”

You blink at him, taken aback, until your expression settles into something unimpressed.

“Nice start,” you say flatly.

“You’re perfect for each other and why both of you are willing to throw it away so quickly is beyond me. It’s giving me a headache,” he continues, rubbing at his temples as if to prove his point. “I’m going to play mediator just this once, and then it’s up to you two to figure it out for yourselves.”

“Does Yoongi know you’re here?”

That makes Seokjin snort. “Are you kidding? He’d try to kill me,” he says, crossing his arms. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here. But he told me what happened, and I think there are some things you deserve to know.”

Yoongi told Seokjin what happened. You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips. That’s nice for him. You don’t even know what happened. Yoongi certainly didn’t seem to feel obligated to clue you into his reasoning for ending things.

“Why doesn’t he tell me those things himself, then?” you ask bitterly.

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Keep up.”

“Okay,” you sigh, equally impatient. You’ve changed your mind. You want to get this asshole out of your apartment as soon as possible. “We’re both stupid. What is it that I deserve to know?”

“Yoongi-yah may be stupid, but he isn’t a bad person.”

You sit up straight at that. Is he joking? “What are you, his fucking character witness?”

“I’ve been his best friend for over a decade,” Seokjin snaps, clearly tired of your attitude. As if you aren’t justified in having one. “So if I am his character witness, I’m a pretty fucking good one.”

You open your mouth to say something, something venomous at the tip of your tongue, but Seokjin beats you to it, holding his hand up to silence you. “Can you just be quiet for five minutes and let me say my piece? Please?”

Huffing petulantly, you shrug and lean back into the couch, gesturing for him to continue.

Seokjin visibly regroups. You watch as he sits up a little straighter, shakes off the irritation, takes a deep breath.

“For as long as I’ve known him, all Yoongi has ever wanted was to make something of himself,” Seokjin starts, calmer now. “He loved making music, and he didn’t care about anything else. Least of all himself.”

“I got to know him when we were freshmen in college,” he continues. “I’d heard about him from classmates, seen him around, but you know Yoongi. He’s pretty tight-lipped about things, always has been. It’s one of his many faults.”

You scoff, your bitterness cutting through the air. No kidding. That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? Yoongi’s little omissions, always giving half-truths. The real reason why he ended things with you is just another one to add to the list.

“Anyway,” Seokjin says, his eyes narrowing at you for a moment as he continues. “I was majoring in theatre, and I’d been cast in ‘Into the Woods.’ Yoongi was volunteered by his piano professor to help with the accompaniment, and during our first rehearsal I just remember thinking to myself, ‘who is this scrawny kid who can play Stephen Sondheim with his eyes closed?’”

You wish he’d get to the point already. You’re a sucker for a good backstory, you are. It’s what makes you such a good feature writer. But you’d really like to maintain your resolve in being pissed at Yoongi, if you can help it.

“I was so impressed with him, you know? He does that. He makes everything look so easy. I made it a point to get to know him, and he opened up to me surprisingly fast. I think he needed a friend,” Seokjin continues. “He told me that he was mostly there on scholarships, but he still had to work two jobs to live and pay off the tuition that he did owe. He told me that he utilized the fuck out of the production equipment on campus. He told me that all he wanted to do was make music, and for people to hear it and think it’s worth something.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment, shifting in his chair.

“I think he would’ve done anything to make that happen,” he says, tension in his voice. “I already didn’t like some of the shit he did do, the situations he put himself in, but I think if he knew it could’ve made his dream a reality, he would’ve done much worse.”

Seokjin doesn’t offer up any more information on what exactly Yoongi did, but he doesn’t have to. You gather by the grimace on his face that it must’ve been pretty bad.

“Obviously he made it anyway. You know who he is now,” he says, pausing for a moment. He looks at you seriously. “That comes with its own set of issues, though.”

“Like what?” you ask, disbelieving.

You feel bad for Yoongi, you do. At least for what he must’ve went through in the past. You know what it’s like to struggle, to feel like you can’t possibly reach your goals with the resources available to you. You’re experiencing that currently.

But Yoongi is extremely successful now. Artists trip over themselves to get a song from him because they know it’ll chart, that people will go crazy for it. His track record is that good. How hard can it be, living like that? Having people think so highly of you?

“Like people taking advantage of him at every turn,” he says, his words blunt. “People pretending to care about him to get close to him. Even going so far as dating him. Long-term. Or at least as long as it takes to produce an album.”

Oh.

“…Suran?” you guess, thinking back to the party Saturday night. The way Suran kept touching Yoongi, like there had been something there. Yoongi didn’t seem all that uncomfortable, but he’s got a killer poker face. Could Suran be that kind of person?

“What?” Seokjin asks, bewildered. “No, Suran was just a casual thing. He told you about Suran?”

“I met her. Saturday,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “They seemed close.”

“That’s been done for years. Yoongi cares about Suran, but it isn’t like that anymore,” he insists, shaking his head. “It was someone else. It’s not my place to say who, but it’s the only time I’ve ever seen Yoongi in love like that. Or at all, honestly. He brought her around all of us, which is a big deal for him. Wrote songs for her. Like, not just for her album, but for her. About her.”

“What happened?” you ask despite yourself. You can feel your resolve crumbling, curiosity getting the best of you. Fuck.

“They were out celebrating finishing the album,” he says. “She wanted to go for a walk after dinner. Kissed him in the middle of the street. The next morning, he woke up to pictures of it all over the internet. She’d texted him, too, breaking it off. It didn’t take much brain power to figure out she orchestrated the whole thing.”

You feel a pang in your chest. As hurt as you are, you also know that Yoongi couldn’t have possibly deserved that. Nobody does.

“He threw himself into his work after that—almost never left the studio. Barely ate or showered,” Seokjin says. “I had to put a stop to it. He was going to overwork himself to death, if I didn’t. I had to help him dig himself out of that hole.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, doing your best to ignore how much that sounds like you. How Yoongi was the one beginning to dig you out.

“That sucks,” you say finally. “But I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than that,” Seokjin huffs. Big talk from the man who’s been calling you stupid this whole time. “Yoongi hasn’t dated anyone since then. Hasn’t even shown interest. Until you.”

“That’s not what it was, between us,” you insist. “I thought, maybe…” Maybe it could’ve been, you think. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it. “But he ended it.”

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says. “Because he got hurt, and it made him stupid, and when you asked him if he could get you an interview with Yijeong, he was scared that was your endgame.”

What?

Yoongi thinks you were using him? What the fuck????

“I wouldn’t—“ you start, but Seokjin cuts you off.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, his gaze piercing through you. “You think I couldn’t tell you were going to fall in love with him the moment I met you? The moment I saw you two together?”

Your throat tightens and you have to tear your eyes away from Seokjin. Love is a big word. One you’re not quite ready to contend with, not now.

“…I like Yoongi,” you manage. You can admit that now, even if Yoongi himself never got the chance to hear it. “But just because he got hurt once upon a time, it doesn’t automatically make the way he ended things with me okay.”

“Just talk to him,” Seokjin pleads.

“Look, I listened to what you have to say,” you say, standing up from the couch. “And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t change some things. But I don’t know if I want to talk to him, okay? Maybe it’s better that it’s ended before we got anywhere serious, if we’re both so fucked up over the past.”

“Y/N—“

“Seokjin, I have work in the morning. I appreciate you coming over to tell me all of this, but I’d really like it if you left now.”

You don’t give him much of a choice in the matter. He’s overstayed his welcome. You make it abundantly clear that if Seokjin doesn’t use his own two legs to walk himself out of your home, you fully intend to grab him by the scruff of his neck and drag him out yourself.

Defeated, Seokjin stands up from his chair and makes his way to your front door. You follow close behind, shutting and locking it behind him before he can get another word in.

When you walk back to the couch, you catch Rina poking her head out into the living room.

Shit. You hadn’t even known she was home.

Wordlessly, you sink back into the couch, emotionally exhausted. Rina sits with you, repositioning you so your head is in her lap, running her fingers through your hair soothingly.

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, but you can practically hear the gears turning in Rina’s head. She’s been biting her tongue since Saturday night, being supportive when you needed it, but not pushing. But she was just in your bedroom that whole time, and Seokjin isn’t exactly quiet. You can only imagine what she heard. You brace yourself.

Finally, she breaks the silence.

“He can play Sondheim with his eyes closed?” she asks.

All of the tension seeps out of you at once. You should’ve known better. Of course Rina won’t push you in either direction. She’s your best friend, your Seokjin. Her loyalties will always be with you, and she knows that you need to process everything on your own.

But she’s also a theatre kid.

“Apparently,” you huff, closing your eyes.

“…That’s really hot.”

You laugh, reaching up to swat at her shoulder. “Not helpful.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice gentle.

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What are you going to do? Seokjin made a strong case for Yoongi, but you’re still mad about how everything played out. You trusted Yoongi this whole time to be honest with you, but you keep being made aware, over and over, of how much he keeps to himself. You aren’t sure if you want to fight to be let in, if it’s worth it. You want it to be.

“I don’t know,” you say finally.

Rina hums, continuing to stroke your hair.

“...Do you wanna watch ‘Into the Woods’?” she asks.

You snort softly, sitting up to grab the remote.

“Only if it’s the one with Bernadette Peters.”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi got his very first long-term gig as a producer, Namjoon brought him a potted plant as a studio-warming gift.

Yoongi thought it was stupid at first, because his studio didn’t have any windows—windows would compromise the integrity of the soundproofing—so the plant would have zero chance of survival. And why was Kim Namjoon buying him a plant anyway? New headphones would’ve been better, Yoongi told him.

But Namjoon had laughed and insisted that the plant—a dracaena, apparently—was extremely resilient. That it could still thrive in the darkness.

“That’s why I got it for you, hyung,” Namjoon had told Yoongi. “It reminded me of you.”

Needless to say, Yoongi became obsessed with the thing.

It was just a small little cutting, just barely starting to grow on its own, so Yoongi researched how to properly care for it and took all of the necessary steps to ensure it would succeed, even in his dimly lit studio.

He watered it, pruned it, measured its growth. He sent Namjoon pictures of it on a weekly basis. He named it—Eodumie, thank you very much.

It took a while, but eventually, Eodumie started to die. Yoongi didn’t know why, so he started doing research on dracaena. He’d put so much effort into helping it grow, so it only seemed sensible to figure out why things had taken a turn for the worse. Run into a problem, find a solution.

Yoongi very quickly found out that Namjoon was a little bit dumb, and that the only ‘plants’ that grow in complete darkness are mushrooms. But he still felt like he’d failed.

When Yoongi is really upset and can’t stop turning a problem over in his head, he resorts to extremely heavy-handed metaphors to help himself make sense of things.

So all of that is to say, Yoongi has a tendency to kill things before they have a chance to grow.

He thought, because you didn’t want a relationship, that you were safe from it. And you were, because he really was okay with being your friend. He didn’t expect any more from you.

But then you asked him if he wanted to have sex with you, and… Well, everything changed then, didn’t it? Not because he couldn’t keep things casual anymore—if that’s what you wanted, he would do it. He would try. You make it so hard for him to say no to you.

No, everything changed because Yoongi is an overthinker by nature. He’s attuned to the rhythm of the world around him, notices patterns where others don’t. Especially when he’s seen them before.

He gave you his mouth, and then you wanted more. He gave you more, and then you wanted a favor. He gave you your favor, and then Suran gave you his identity. You had your favor, and his identity, and then you were all over him, and Yoongi knows what happens next. He’s heard that song before.

Shit, Yoongi’s made that song before, unwittingly. And he’s not interested in writing another duet just for it to sour like the last one.

Metaphors, again.

The point is, he cut it off before he was in too deep. Sex complicates things. For him. It blurs the lines, and he’d much rather do you professional favors when he’s not also seeing you naked. It’s the only way he can keep being your friend, and that’s what you want.

Seokjin thinks he’s being an idiot. Seokjin can suck his cock. Yoongi was doing what he thought was right.

He hadn’t expected to hear from you. Over the past week he’d thought about reaching out and explaining himself every day. But he wanted to give you space, maybe. Or maybe he still felt a little sore about the whole thing. But then, Friday night, you text him asking him to come over and…

Now he’s in your apartment.

In all of the weeks he’s known you, Yoongi has never actually been inside your apartment before, he realizes. Is that weird? The closest he’d been was when he picked you up for the party on Saturday. When he’d lingered in your doorway, looking at you in your pretty dress. Fuck, you looked good. He didn’t want to go to that dumb party in the first place, but you in that dress… He wanted to drag you down the hall, get you in his bed. Take it off of you with his teeth.

It’s devastating that now that Yoongi is finally here, you seem so stiff in his presence. Quiet. Unlike yourself. You’re sitting as far as humanly possible from him on your couch, and Yoongi feels like an asshole. Even when you were literally a stranger, you didn’t feel like this much of a stranger to him. It was instant, the way you’d hit it off. Did Yoongi really make things this way?

“I read your article,” he says, cutting through the silence. Neither of you have spoken since he came in, and the tension is making him antsy. Desperate to break the ice.

What he doesn’t tell you is that he read your article the second it came out this morning, that he’s had alerts on his phone for everything published under your name since the day after he met you. That he drops everything to read it all, no matter what he’s doing.

It was beautiful. It was about one of his best friends, so of course he thought so, but you have such a way with words. It’s another thing you have in common, he thinks. You both have difficulty saying what you feel out loud, but when it comes to work, when you’re writing, it just pours out of you.

“You read my article,” you repeat softly, huffing. Yoongi can’t read the expression on your face, and that bothers him to no end.

“Of course I did,” he replies, brow furrowing in confusion. “I always do. Especially this one.”

“We need to talk,” you say. He watches as you turn your body on the couch, pulling your legs to your chest to face him.

“Okay.”

“I need to talk,” you suddenly correct, voice tight. You take a breath, and then, “Seokjin came over the other night.”

Seokjin… Oh.

Oh, Yoongi’s going to kill him. Brutally. He told Seokjin to keep his nose out of his fucking business and instead of listening and staying out of it, he came over to your apartment? Is he insane? Yoongi’s always thought so, in a mostly loving way, but this is a whole new level of intrusion that he didn’t think Seokjin was capable of, and now he has to die.

“He came here? He had no right—”

“It’s fine,” you say, waving a hand. Yoongi’s unconvinced, but he forces himself to settle, to take a breath. You said you needed to talk, and he’s going to let you. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to text you, so… It’s probably good that he did.”

Yoongi doesn’t see how that could possibly be the case, but he stays quiet. Waits for you to find the right words.

“This whole past week, I’ve been so… confused,” you start, your eyes fixed on the couch cushion between the two of you. “Confused, and mad at you.”

“I still am, I think,” you continue, lifting your head to look at him. “Mad at you. But I don’t want to be, because I miss you. You said that you still wanted to be friends, but you haven’t exactly put in much of an effort to do that.”

“I wanted to give you space,” Yoongi says. His excuse sounds hollow, even to his own ears.

You shake your head. “You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that, I just—”

“Let me talk,” you snap, frustrated, and Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut so fast he can hear the click of it. “You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I get it. But if me asking you for help bothered you so much, you could’ve just told me no instead of assuming that I was using you as some kind of stepping stone and then just breaking things off without explaining.”

There’s nothing Yoongi can say to that. He knows you’re right. He should’ve just said no the second he felt uncomfortable, but it was just so important to you he couldn’t bring himself to not help you.

“I get why your brain immediately went there, but I’m not going to apologize or act guilty or anything like that. Because I wasn’t using you,” you say firmly, crossing your arms. “Shit, Yoongi, all the times you’ve offered to help me I’ve tried to stop you. My car? But then the one time I come to you first, you assume the worst and shut me out. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Yoongi says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

He feels like the world’s biggest piece of shit. For someone usually so observant, he suddenly feels like he’s been blind this whole time. You’ve done nothing but be upfront with him about what you wanted, and still he assumed you were pulling one over on him. He’s spent the past week feeling justified, feeling like he’d done the right thing, but your words have made his entire mindset shift in an instant.

“The night of the party, I…” you trail off. And then you laugh, which makes Yoongi look back up at you. “Yijeong told me I was special. He said that you hadn’t been to an industry event in years, even when he asked you to. I didn’t know that.”

“It was important to you,” he mumbles, sheepish. He didn’t know Yijeong had said anything about him to you. Looking back now, he realizes how stupid that is. His friends are all world-class meddlers. Clearly they need to be, if Yoongi’s this fucking dense.

“See? That right there,” you say, frustrated. “I thought, maybe… I thought you had feelings for me. Non-platonic, romantic feelings. And for the first time since my ex… Did I ever tell you what happened with him?” you ask.

Yoongi had read between the lines. He knew that your ex had a problem with how demanding your job was, and that it’d ended badly, but beyond that he doesn’t know any details.

He shakes his head.

“We were together for almost four years. Almost all through college,” you start. “He met my parents. I met his. After we graduated, we moved in together. In this apartment, actually.”

Yoongi watches you glance around your living room. He knows that look. Years later, he still remembers what his apartment, his studio looked like when they were occupied by someone else. He remembers every detail.

“I thought we were going to get married eventually. We’d talked about it.” You pull your knees tighter to your chest, looking down. “I got my first job at some shitty newspaper. I worked insane hours and it barely paid anything, but it was a start. I was over the moon about it.”

He holds his breath, waiting for what he knows comes next.

“He broke up with me after two months,” you say, your voice wavering. “He said it was because he barely saw me, that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me if my job was going to be more important than us. It took him less than a week to move out. Four years down the drain.”

Fuck. It’s awful, watching you relive your pain and not being able to do anything but listen. Because Yoongi hurt you, too. He’s the reason you’re digging this up, that you’re feeling it all over again.

Yoongi looks down, picks at his left thumbnail as he listens. He can’t bring himself to look at you.

Your ex is an idiot, he thinks bitterly. How could someone spend four years watching the way you glow when you talk about writing and throw that away?

“I blamed myself. Why wouldn’t I? He told me it was my fault,” you say. “I haven’t been interested in a relationship since. Why try if I clearly don’t have time for it? The thought of you having feelings for me…”

He hears you suck in a breath, braces himself. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding how he felt about you, even after the sex. But he’d made you uncomfortable anyway. Of course.

“It made me want to try,” you say softly.

Yoongi’s head snaps up, his eyes meeting yours. It’s almost insane, the way his heart starts racing in his chest at just the slightest glimmer of hope. You realized how he felt—feels—about you, and you wanted to try? He wants to interrupt you, to ask what that means, but he holds his tongue.

“I think maybe I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you continue, looking down at your knees again. “And I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But when Yijeong told me all of that… I mean, fuck, Yoongi. We weren’t even speaking and you read my article. You helped me even though you thought I was just using you to get ahead. When I hadn’t seen you for weeks, instead of thinking I was a bad friend, you offered up your studio so we could work in complete silence together.”

He would do anything. He would do anything to see you glow. That first night in that horrible Western bar you’d both been dragged to, the way you puffed up with pride when you told him where you work—that’s all he ever wants to see.

“I was going to tell you,” you say. “After the party, I was going to tell you. But then you ended things, and I… I didn’t know why.”

Yoongi needs to salvage this. He needs to know if there’s anything left, if you could ever forgive him for being such a stupid, prideful ass. He hopes.

“Y/N…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You do this thing where you only give me half-truths about shit, and it drives me crazy,” you say, pointing a finger at him in frustration. “All of the secrecy about your job, who you are, how close you are to Yijeong, why you ended things with us. It seriously makes me want to kill you sometimes.”

You’re right. He prides himself on being an honest person, but he kept things from you on purpose. He didn’t want to let you in fully, to let you see him. He didn’t want to get hurt. But none of that was worth hurting you. He’s going to fix this. He’s going to try.

“Then let me clear some things up,” Yoongi says, sitting up straighter.

He scoots closer, closing some of the space between you on the couch.

Yoongi has never been good at talking about his feelings, not out loud. In songs that will ultimately be sang by other people, sure, but doing it like this makes him squeamish. He’ll get over it, though. You need to hear this.

“I’m an idiot,” he says seriously, looking into your eyes. “I’m an idiot for thinking you would do that to me. I was scared and stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you, and that I kept things from you, and that I ended things so suddenly. My past isn’t an excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I should’ve been more open with you, so I’m going to try. Okay?”

You nod once, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“You were right,” he says, reaching to take one of your hands in his. He intertwines your fingers, staring down at them as he speaks. “About me having feelings for you.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t know what that means, can’t bring himself to look at you until he’s done verbalizing all of this, but he hopes it’s a good thing.

“I was happy to be your friend,” he continues. “I didn’t expect anything more from you. But yeah, Y/N, I’d be crazy not to have feelings for you. You’re incredible, you know? You’re so smart, so driven, so insanely sexy. I was a goner the moment you introduced yourself to me with a handshake.”

You pull your hand from his, and for a moment he panics, until he looks up to see you using it to cover a tiny laugh. Your eyes are glassy, and although Yoongi hates the idea of making you cry, he feels relieved to know that it’s likely not out of sadness.

“I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you,” he reiterates, pulling your hand back into his and squeezing it. “I never meant to, but I did, and that’s not okay. But if I didn’t completely wreck my chances and you still want to try, I… I promise I’ll do better. I won’t keep things from you, I won’t act without considering your feelings, I’ll do better with all of it.”

You take another shaky breath, biting down on your bottom lip as you process his words. Yoongi feels like he’s going to have a heart attack, tense and pulled taut, but he waits patiently.

The ball is in your court now, Yoongi thinks. This is your decision, as it should be. If you want him to walk away, he will. If you want to stay friends, Yoongi thinks it might kill him now that everything’s out in the open, but he’ll do it for you. But he hopes—

“No more half-truths?” you ask softly, and holy shit.

“I promise,” Yoongi insists. He holds his breath.

“Then I still want to try.”

Relief washes over him instantly, all of the tension leaving his shoulders at once. He didn’t fuck everything up beyond repair. You still want him. Holy shit, you still want him!

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, squeezing your hand again. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you say, and Yoongi doesn’t waste a goddamn second. Instantly, he’s moving your knees so he can fit himself between them, cradling your jaw to capture your lips with his.

God, you taste so good. He’s the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.

Yoongi is just happy to kiss you again, to know that you’re his now. But then you make a sweet little sound into his mouth, slide your hands under his shirt, and he pulls away to look at you.

“Baby,” he says, catching his breath. Shit, it feels so good to call you that again. “We don’t have to do anything right now.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, pushing his shirt up impatiently. Cute. “After you left me hanging last time? In a suit, no less.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh, grabbing hold of your wrists to stop your hands in their tracks. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to rush into anything just because—”

But then you shut him up with a kiss, which he melts into easily before you’re pulling back again. You look so serious. Yoongi likes you so fucking much.

“I want my boyfriend to fuck me,” you say, wriggling your hands out of his grip to keep feeling him up, and Yoongi is powerless to resist because fuck, boyfriend. “Is that too much to ask?”

He shakes his head dumbly, mouth agape. He’s your boyfriend. You said it.

You laugh, pinching his nipple, and Yoongi hisses as he’s yanked out of his reverie.

“Come on,” you tease, standing from the couch and pulling him with you. “Bedroom.”

Yoongi follows you to your bedroom eagerly, letting you drag him by the arm. You take a moment to shoo Pepper off of your bed and out of the room, shutting the door to keep her out, but Yoongi’s patience only lasts so long. As soon as the door is closed, Yoongi pulls you to your bed, laying you down on your back and kissing you breathless.

He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you as his hands slide over your ass to squeeze it. You moan in response, your hips kicking up against his, and he lifts his head to look down at you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs lowly, his lips still brushing against yours. Yoongi thinks he’d give you anything you ask for, especially when you look so sweet and needy beneath him like this.

“Just want you,” you pant, chasing his lips for another kiss. He obliges easily, dipping down to lick into your mouth again.

A part of Yoongi wants to drag this out—really drag it out this time—and tease you until you’re desperate and whining, begging. A part of him wants to see how far he can push you, to make you fall apart so he can put you back together again over and over. But Yoongi’s also not feeling very patient, not when you’re like this. He feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you right now.

You moan as Yoongi rips your shorts down your legs, arch your back as he slides his hand into your panties to feel you.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groans, sinking his middle and ring fingers into your pussy with no resistance. “Always so soaked for me.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper. God, he’s so addicted to that—the way you say his name when he touches you. If it wouldn’t make him sound like a headcase, he’d ask you to record it. Sneak it into his fucking songs. Let the world know how pretty you sound for him.

“Fuck yeah, let me hear you,” Yoongi murmurs. He sets a steady pace with his fingers, curling them up and thumbing at your clit, and you cry out for him, your face contorting with pleasure. Fucking addicting. “Sound so pretty, baby.”

“M-missed you calling me that,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you rock your hips up into his touch, and Yoongi’s more than happy to let you take what you need. “Missed the way you touch me.”

“It’s only been a week,” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as his free hand slides over your abdomen and up to your chest to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Am I that good?”

Despite your pleasure, you still reach out to swat at him blindly, and he laughs when your hand connects with his chest. “I hate you,” you complain weakly, but the way your core clamps down on his fingers tells him something else entirely.

“Nah. You like me.” He dips down to lick and suck at your other nipple, satisfaction buzzing through his veins when your hands thread through his hair, grasping at the strands. Yoongi can feel your urgency, can feel how close you’re getting for him in the way your muscles tense beneath him, and he quickens the pace of his fingers in response. “Come on, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Shit, Yoongi—” you moan. Yoongi feels the tension in your body break, your pussy fluttering as his fingers pump inside of you, and he lifts his head to look.

You look so beautiful when you come. Fuck, he wants to commit everything about it to memory: the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part in a moan, your eyes shut tight as you just… take it.

“That’s it,” he groans, slowing the pace of his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. “That’s my girl.”

After a moment, Yoongi withdraws his fingers, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Okay?” he asks when he sits up on his knees, studying your face as you catch your breath.

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding. Your body relaxes and you sigh, grinning. “More than.”

“Need a second?” he teases, grinning smugly at how fucked out you look already.

“Fuck that,” you say, catching him off guard when you suddenly sit up, surging forward to tug his shirt up and off faster than he can react. The second it’s off, you’re going for his pants next, impatient.

“Fuck, hold on,” Yoongi huffs breathlessly, amused as you struggle to push his pants down over his hips. He stops you, shifting off the bed for a moment to do away with them properly. “Eager, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” you say, laying back for a moment and lifting your own hips to shimmy your panties down your legs. Yoongi can’t help but stare, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of you. So fucking pretty.

You grin, sitting up again and gently tugging Yoongi closer by the waistband of his underwear. “Yoongi,” you murmur sweetly, and he hums, transfixed by the sight of your hand moving to palm at him through the fabric. “I wanna ride you. Is that okay?”

He inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. He feels his cock twitch in your hand at just the thought of you on top of him, and you smirk. Damn. You’re the smug one now, huh?

“Are you sure?” Yoongi just needs to check. He wants to make sure that this is really what you want, but he’s already moving to shed the last barrier between you.

“Uh-huh,” you confirm, biting your lip as you glance down at his now-freed length, your hand wrapping around it and pumping him slowly. Fuck fuck fuck. Yoongi is not proud of the noise he makes, the pitch slightly higher than his normal timbre. If he doesn’t get inside of you soon he’s going to lose it.

Mercifully, you let go, your attention momentarily torn away as you shift off the bed to rifle through your bedside table. Yoongi moves to the head of the bed, sitting up against your headboard and taking a second to calm the fuck down. He wants this to be good for you, and if that’s gonna happen he needs to be able to not come as soon as you touch him, thanks.

When you return, condom in hand, all Yoongi can do is watch you as you tear the wrapper open, roll it onto his length. Wordlessly, you straddle him, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“Good?” you ask, and Yoongi nods stiffly. He’s so good. How could he not be, with you in his lap like this? With what you’re about to do? You’ve completely turned the tables on him, and he’s so fine with that.

“Just—” he grits out, squeezing your hips gently. “Fuck, go easy on me, okay? I want it to be good for you.”

“It will be,” you assure him, reaching between his body and yours to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Always is with you.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. “Not if I come in two seconds like a teenager,” he points out.

“I’d consider it a compliment,” you tease. Yoongi inhales sharply as you sink down just the slightest bit, his eyes squeezing shut. He feels your lips on his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss there.

“I’ll go slow,” you tack on, and then you start to ease the rest of the way down slowly, stealing all of the breath from Yoongi’s lungs in the process.

“Shit,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. You moan softly once you’re finally fully seated on him, and he squeezes your hips to anchor you there, taking a moment to just look at you. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yoongi’s words are rewarded with a pretty flush on your cheeks and your shy smile. “Shut up,” you mumble. His heart squeezes in his chest, a grin spreading over his face.

“I can’t tell my girlfriend how beautiful she is?” he teases, using his grip on your hips to encourage you to move, tearing sudden, simultaneous moans from both of you as he starts to guide you into a slow, steady rhythm. “How crazy she makes me?”

“You can,” you pant, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage to follow his guidance. “Please,” you add, causing Yoongi’s lips to quirk up in a smirk.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your throat. His hands slide from your hips to your ass, groaning as he grips the flesh in his hands appreciatively. “Do you know how often I think about you? About this?”

“Tell me,” you whimper. You sound so desperate for it, for him, and Yoongi is completely awestruck by you. You’re always telling him exactly what you want, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t want to comply every fucking time. Anything for you.

“Can’t get you out of my head,” he moans into your neck. “You’re so fucking—god, you’re so sexy.” Your hips stutter, and he pulls a hand back to smack your ass once, wordlessly telling you to move a little faster. And you do. “So smart, so passionate. Can feel it in the way you write, but not just that. The way you talk about it, fuck, could listen to you forever.”

You moan, clenching around him, and Yoongi hisses, bucking up into you involuntarily. He’s not going to last much longer, he can feel it, but he can also tell plain as day that you’re just as close.

“Look so sexy riding me like this, too. I’m so lucky,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands over your body as he speaks. “This ass,” he says, gripping it in his hands again. “These tits.” Another squeeze, to your breast this time. “Fuck, your pussy. I could write chart-topping, award-winning songs about this fucking pussy.” One hand slides down, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles. You keen, moaning his name. “How wet it gets for me. The way it tastes, how it feels around my cock. Fuck, Y/N. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“I’m gonna come,” you mewl, and Yoongi can’t help the growl that tears from his throat.

“Yeah, come on my cock, baby, fuck, I’ve got you,” he grits out, planting his feet firmly into your mattress for leverage as he fucks up into you. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips meet your ass, the backs of your thighs, setting an urgent pace.

“Fuck!” you moan. Yoongi must be doing something right, judging by the way your thighs start to shake, the way your whole body goes taut in his grip. “Fuckfuckfuckrightthere—”

It’s still true: Yoongi will never get tired of the way you look when you come. You just let go, shaking and moaning and digging your nails into his shoulders as you writhe above him. He did that. Fuck.

His rhythm gets sloppy quickly and he pulls you as close as he can as he thrusts up into you, his own orgasm quickly following. Stars burst behind his eyes as he spills into the condom, groaning into the crook of your neck as he slows to a stop.

You pull him into a kiss, both of you gasping into each other’s mouths as you recover. When you tear yourself away, Yoongi feels your hands cradling his face, and he opens his eyes to find you looking at him, exhausted from exertion but smiling.

“I think all of those things about you too, you know,” you mumble fondly, thumbing his cheek. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. “It’s not just you.”

His hand comes up to rest over yours, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Guess we won’t get tired of each other any time soon.”

You laugh, carefully lifting up off of his lap. “No, I guess not.”

It’s hard to tear himself away from you, but Yoongi drags himself off your bed to dispose of the condom, navigating his way to your bathroom easily. Your apartment has the same layout, after all. When he returns, he uses one of your towels to wipe you down carefully.

Afterwards, he climbs into your bed with you, pulling you close, your head on his chest. For a moment, Yoongi tries to think back to the last time he felt this way, but he comes up short. Even in his last serious relationship, it didn’t feel this way. In the back of his head, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it until now, he always knew something was off about it. But this, being close to you like this, this thing you were both so scared of… It feels so right.

“Seokjin thinks we’re going to fall in love,” you say after a long moment, your voice quiet. Dangerous thing to say, Yoongi thinks, with your head on his chest like this, so close to his traitorous heart.

“Seokjin thinks a lot of shit. Says all of it out loud, too,” Yoongi murmurs into your hair, taking one of your hands to thread his fingers with yours. “What do you think?”

Yoongi knows what he thinks. He thinks he’s already more than halfway there. He thinks this… you and him could really be something. Not for the first time tonight, he holds his breath.

“I think he’s right,” you answer softly, lifting your head to look at him.

As Yoongi looks back at you—his wallflower, his neighbor, his music journalist friend, his beautiful, hardworking girl—all he can think about is that Western bar he didn’t want to go to. The one he was dragged to on some random Friday, not even a wellness check night. The one he could’ve easily said no to going to in favor of staying in his studio instead. Just another thing he owes his friends for, he thinks. This might be the best one, though.

He squeezes your hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

★ ★ ★

EPILOGUE

You didn’t think you were going to make it.

Work has been busting your ass lately, and while you’re endlessly thankful that your career has suddenly taken a sharp turn for the unimaginable—interviewing Lee Chaerin, fucking CL up close and personal, are you joking?—you told Kevin that you had somewhere to be tonight. And that motherfucker still kept you in his office long past five to brainstorm next month’s edition.

Thankfully, you made it out with just enough time to make yourself look presentable in the mirror before making a dash for your car. Unfortunately, you had to forego running home to shower and change clothes, but you did wear a cute sweater and a flattering skirt to work today in anticipation of exactly that situation. Small mercies.

You’re late, definitely late enough for it to be rude, but Yoongi had insisted over and over that this was a completely casual thing.

You love Yoongi, but he’s totally full of shit. There’s nothing casual about meeting your boyfriend’s literal soulmates.

As you stalk towards the front door of the restaurant, you pray that you haven’t completely squandered your first impression before it even begins. Even Rina is making a better one than you—she showed up twenty minutes early. Backstabbing bitch.

Yoongi, ever the gentleman, meets you at the door.

“Will you relax?” he says, exasperated even as he leans in to kiss you ‘hello.’ When he pulls back, he flicks you on the forehead. Asshole. “You texted me your ETA like twelve times. While you drove. This is the furthest thing from a big deal.”

“Says you,” you grouse, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow easily as he guides you inside. “These are your soulmates. They already love you. What if they hate me? What if they want to burn me at the stake?”

This past month with Yoongi has been nothing short of bliss. You’re both busy, both practically living in your respective workplaces, but sometimes you make time to visit him in his studio and work next to him in silence. Sometimes you come home to find him cooking dinner for you in your apartment and swapping stories with Rina. Sometimes you sleep in on weekends, wake up next to him and admire the softness of his features in the morning, the way Pepper curls up on his chest like he’s been around forever. It’s so good it makes you want to cry. Comfortable. Plus, there’s lots and lots of sex. Sex so good it makes you actually cry sometimes.

“They won’t,” he insists, keeping you close as he weaves through tables to guide you to the private room in the back. “They’ll love you, too. Maybe even more than me. You’re much easier to get along with.”

“That’s true,” you concede with a dramatic sigh, smiling at him fondly. He may be a grouchy hermit, but he’s your grouchy hermit.

When you reach the door of the private room, he stops. You can hear Seokjin’s windshield wiper-y laugh, even with the door closed. “You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning to you with a grin.

“No,” you mumble, pouting. When he runs his thumb over your bottom lip mockingly, you huff at him. “But I guess I have to be, don’t I?”

“Yep,” he says simply, dipping down to kiss you one more time. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I love you, so they’ll love you, too.”

You hum, grabbing greedily at the front of his shirt to pull him down for one more kiss. “If you say so,” you murmur. “I love you, too.”

You smooth out his shirt and then do a full-body shake to ease your nerves, which makes Yoongi snort. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi nods, smiling at you fondly, gums showing. You’re damn lucky, you think, to be the one at the receiving end of those smiles. He loves you. It’s so fucking stupid how much he loves you, and how much you love him in return. It’s still new, still a little thing that both of you are learning how to nurture properly, but fuck it’s good.

When he opens the door, the noise of friends inside—both yours and his—filtering out into the restaurant, it’s that gummy smile still lingering in your mind that makes you take a step inside. That, and Yoongi’s voice in your head telling you it’s going to be okay. Because if there’s one thing you know beyond a shadow of a doubt after this past month, it’s that Yoongi will always be honest with you.

He squeezes your hand, and you step inside.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @coffeedepressionsoup @butterymin @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @yourfavoritedeluluspot

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menonlywrestling · 2 months ago

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San Francisco 1960-1985. Part 2

The Lion Lounge was the worlds longest running all male strip club. It was in SF, open seven days a week, and between 1960 and 1985 was owned and run by partners Eddie Jones and Raymond O'Hare.

Eddie and Ray were huge pro wrestling nerds and actually met at a pro show in 1950, so when they bought the Lion Lounge they knew they wanted to feature live underground pro wrestling shows. There was an underserved market of pro fans who preferred their wrestling more 'intimate', and they planned to serve it. And then some.

In the main bar upstairs is where the strippers would work, however it was downstairs where the best action happened, if you were a pro wrestling fan. Only accessible by 'downstairs' club members, the basement was a dark, cozy affair, with room for around 40 members. There was a small bar at the back of the room and a pro wrestling ring in the middle of the room.

Things started off slow, as they gradually introduced the wrestling shows. The lounge had always been a strip joint, so that element kept the dollars coming in. They put on some small invite only shows, hoping to build up a following through word of mouth. It worked, and within six months there were wrestling shows every night, with a waiting list for membership. They also built up a network of wrestlers of all sizes, ages and styles, who'd come and wrestle every week. Other wrestlers who were in town for a few days or weeks would come down and wrestle too. It was a great way to make some extra cash, especially if you caught the eye of wealthy member. SF was a destination for a lot of people escaping their shitty small towns/relationships/lives etc, who wanted a new start. If they could wrestle they could try out. Eddie and Ray really looked after all their wrestlers, particularly the younger ones, or the ones down on their luck. Helping them find places to stay or get jobs, or medical attention and provide them with wrestling gear. Younger wrestlers who didn't cut it in the ring were often employed as bar/waiting staff or busboys etc. The older wrestlers would often be employed as bouncers. Some wrestlers came and went, others stayed over 20 years, in various roles. Lifelong friendships were made, tag teams formed, relationships blossomed along with flings, rivalries, fall outs, affairs and jealousies.

Friday and Saturday nights were dedicated to sex wrestling, featuring more defined, clean cut looking types. The wrestling was real, but the sex/gimmick was the focus on these nights, with oil, rip and strip, mud wrestling etc. Sometimes the guys would just wrestle naked.

The 'proper' pro action happened on the other nights. There was usually 3 matches per night, with a sex round after each bout, where the winner fucked the loser. If the match was a draw then the audience would decide who topped who.

Mondays was always the newcomers night, where the younger wrestlers would face off. It was vital to do well here to try and bump yourself up the card, get yourself more matches in the coming weeks and months, and most importantly gain fans, who'd want to come and see you every time you wrestled.

Tuesdays was for the more established younger wrestlers, while Wednesdays was the night for the members who liked to watch a mix of older vs younger fights (bear vs cub was popular) and dad/son vs dad/son tag matches.

Thursdays and Sundays were the nights for the popular big boys and Lion Lounge championship title holders. These were the nights to see some really incredible singles and tag matches with the most popular men. Always a mix of tough technical matches and all out bloody brutal brawls. There would always be at least one chain match on a Sunday. V popular with the leather/S&M crowd.

Outside, the venue would have photos in display cases (taken in a small studio at the top of the building by Eddie) showing that weeks performers. On one side of the entrance would be the strippers, the other side would be the wrestlers.

The images here are of some of the wrestlers over the years.

#beefy muscle #pro wrestling #gay wrestling #vintage pro wrestling #wrestling singlet #beefy daddy #big beefy bears

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sunflowervoltwentyeight · 5 months ago

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Happy 28th! Here is my June 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Oxford AU Series by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (130k)

Come As You Are (77k) “I think it could be like this all the time,” Harry says. “I know it doesn’t make sense but I think you should consider it. I could make you happy if you let me.” louis is a professor of literature at oxford and harry is his newest and most eager protege. both are caught in a story about forbidden love, loss and second chances, in which one is on the brink of heartbreak and the other comes along when he's needed most. Overwhelmingly You (47k) more reflections post-oxford. Notes on Oxford (5k) glimpses at life before, during and beyond oxford, in no particular order

Satellite by suspendrs / @suspendrs (100k)

“It’s been three years since I’ve had a proper hot meal,” Louis says finally. “I have no idea where my family is, or if any of them are even still alive. The only reason I’ve been able to keep myself alive for as long as I have is because I keep to myself, stay guarded, stay hidden. It’s the only way I know how to live,” he says.

Harry wants to cry, but he tries to put on a brave face when Louis finally meets his eyes. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to be so guarded around me,” Harry says quietly, earnestly.

“That’s very sweet of you,” Louis says, putting his fork down. “But yes I do. Especially around you.”

Or, Louis needs a house. Harry offers him a home.

Just Pretend by kingsofeverything / @kingsofeverything (90k)

Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn't date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she's spending the weekend with her mom.

Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they're dating to keep their kids happy.

Into The Midnight Sun by summerwine @smrwine (63k)

Every day without Louis was a never ending blue Monday. Every day went without his sweetness and warmth and the radiant colours of his flame. The tenor of his voice became unfamiliar and muddled between going so long without the sound of it and getting lost with every other voice clouding Harry’s memory.But he was here now, warming Harry’s bones with lips like summer. Every moment in his arms felt like a Sunday stroll through London. Beautiful and stormy and feeling every bit like home. or, It's 1983, Harry embarks on his first world tour and Louis is a budding actor in LA. Life spent apart isn't easily adjustable, but somehow they make it work.

Everything of Mine Is Yours by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (33k)

"Did you two have a good time?”

Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm.

“Yeah,” he says. “We did.”

or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Changing Weather (For Worse or For Better) by haztobegood / @haztobegood (3k)

Five times it's raining and one time it stops.

Spoon Time by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow (2k)

There was nothing going on between them outside of the normal bro-pal-laddy-dude things every other set of best friends did. All sets of best friends did things like this. You know, hanging out every day, staying up late, and chatting until the wee hours which usually ended up as a sleepover and bed-sharing. There is nothing going on between them.

That is what Harry was going to keep telling himself and everyone around them, anyway because it is the truth, after all.

#28th appreciation #june fic rec #monthly fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec #hlcreators #read

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lixzey · 1 year ago

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Hi again babe😊 So I thought of a request, it’s kinda long so I don’t mind if you want to put it off or something but here I go anyway.

Timmy is older than reader by quite a few years (no minors ofc💀) but they’re dating and Timmy starts to feel like he’s manipulating reader because of the age gap so he breaks up with her and is kinda mean to her. Reader is really sad cause she did love him and kinda throws herself at him. then one day she overhears him having sex with another girl and starts crying and he catches her and basically admits how he really felt bad. And then maybe makeup smut and fluff. 👍bye, happy Sunday💕

A/N: Changed it a bit, i hope it's alright! So far, this is the longest out of anything I've ever written. My first attempt at smut! This took me almost five hours to write 😭

wc: 3.4k

Info: angst, age gap, unprotected sex, oral male receiving, masturbation, read with caution

More Than Words.

Y/N loved Timothée more than anything in the world. Timothée was ten years older than her, but it didn't matter to her. The two were paired in a movie and sparks flew almost instantly. At first, Timothée was hesitant to pursue her, being older than her and all. But Y/N proved that age wasn't an issue between them, since they were both consenting adults, nothing was wrong with what they had. But being in his late thirties made him feel like he was using her. Timothée felt like he was manipulating her into being in a relationship with him. Y/N was all that he could ever want, but in the back of his mind, it felt too good to be true.

“Y/N, I don't want to do this anymore.” Timothée blurted out. He had taken Y/N to dinner at a fancy restaurant where there were a lot of people dining.

Y/N stared at him, “What do you mean, love?”

“I want to break up, I want to end this.” Timothée said flatly, though it was more like he was trying to be intimidating—which he knew wouldn't work with her.

Y/N was glaring at him, her (y/e/c) eyes were darkening at the sight of him, which made him feel genuinely scared of the younger woman in front of him.

“You took me out to a fancy place,” she said, looking around. “A very public place. Where I'm not allowed to scream at you without looking like a crazy bitch.”

Timothée winced and looked down, reaching for the glass of red wine that was in front of him and drinking all of it in one go.

“You're smart, for taking me to a crowded place.” Y/N continued, her voice low, “I applaud you for that.”

“Y/N I—"

“I'm not stupid, Timothée,”Y/N snapped at him. “I know what you're doing, you fucker.”

“You're very young, younger than me . . . and . . .”

Y/N's eyes flashed dangerously, and Timothée knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing.

“I'm going fucking punch your pretty face if you finish that motherfucking sentence.” Y/N growled. He believed her. Y/N L/N wasn't one to threaten a person, but when she did, she would absolutely hurt you. Timothée swallowed hard at the sight of the furious woman in front of him, who looked extremely sexy and made him want to kiss her hard and run his fingers in her long hair.

Timothée did his best to look intimidating again, but he knew that it was pointless because this woman—who he dated for a year—knew him better than anyone else. “Y/N, I don't want-”

“You don't get to break up with me, Timothée Hal Chalamet.” Y/n shook her head defiantly. “You're not too old for me, you fucking shit! How many times have I told you-”

“I'm trying to do the right thing.”

“Fuck that right thing bullshit, Timothée! We've been dating for almost a year and I've told you countless times, I don't care that you're older than me! I love you for you, not because of your age.”

Timothée looked around, thankful that no one was paying them any attention. Still, a public display wasn't something that would do their careers good. Y/N being in love with her career, and living her dream. He wasn't going to let her throw her career away—her anger could be explosive, and that wasn't good if this conversation went south. He called the waiter and practically threw money at him, before grabbing Y/N's hand and pulling her out the establishment.

As soon as the two reached his car, he opened the door for the glaring woman. Timothée got in his car and drove back to Y/N's apartment. Once they arrived at her cozy apartment, Y/N had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him and waiting for him to explain.

“I-uh-you're amazing, Y/N, really,” Timothée started, shifting slightly under her intense gaze, “But you deserve . . . you deserve—”

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Someone younger? Someone more handsome? Someone who's not as thin as a stick?”

“Yes! But hey! I am not as thin as a stick, thank you very much!”

“I don't fucking care, Tim! I want you. I love you. Only you. Please don't do this.”

“You deserve-”

Y/N closed the space between them and cupped his face, “I don't care what I deserve! I chose you, I made my goddamn choice to be with you, to be yours!”

“No. No. You shouldn't have picked me, I don't deserve you. You're young, beautiful, and incredibly sexy which makes this so much harder.” Timothée insisted, gently removing her soft hands away from his face. He wanted nothing more than to pin her against the wall and fuck her senseless, but he didn't want to use her. This was already hard enough. Saying no to her took everything, and it was killing him to push her away. “You just don't know any better because we jumped right into this too fast, I manipulated you into this.”

“What? You didn't fucking manipulate me Tim-”

“Yes, I did!” Timothée yelled, running his hands into his hair, “I manipulated you into being in a relationship with me! You didn't know any better!”

“Are you calling me stupid, Timothée Hal!?” Y/N snapped, “I chose to be with you-”

“Maybe you are stupid! Stupid enough to fall for my bullshit!”

“Timothée-”

“You shouldn't have chosen me, hell, we shouldn't have been together in the first place!” Timothée yelled, “I'm fucking thirty-eight, Y/N I'm two years closer to forty! And you're twenty fucking eight! Ten motherfuckimg years younger than me!”

“Tim, are you even hearing yourself!?” Y/N yelled back, poking his chest, “You're fucking drowning in your insecurities!”

Timothée looked straight into the eyes of the beautiful woman in front of him, “I just want you to be with someone who's better than me.” Timothée mumbled softly, nearly whispering as he looked down at his feet. He winced when she placed her hands on either side of his face.

Y/N scoffed loudly. “Oh, please. You keep on thinking that you're not worthy, but you are. You are fucking worth it, worth all of the fucking things in this world.” She titled his head using her finger, making him face him. “I love you, Tim. I love you more than anything in this world. You aren't just some older guy,” Timothée winced when she said older guy, but she just chuckled, “You're mine.”

Timothée gazed into her eyes, seeing the soft look of love in them which made it much more difficult to leave her.

“You don't deserve an old man like me.” Timothée mumbled, averting his gaze away from her.

Y/N stepped back, before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, “So you think just because you're older, I don't deserve you? You're going to just toss me to the side? Make it better for the both of us?”

“Was hoping to.” Timothée mumbled.

Y/N glared at him again. He was really pushing her buttons. She didn't give a damn that he was older, yet here he was, making a big deal of it like an idiot.

“You're a fucking idiot.”

“I know, I'm an idiot for forcing you to be with me.”

“If you say that you forced me, manipulated me, one more time, I swear to God I'm going to fucking break your jaw.” Y/N snapped, throwing him a threatening glare. Timothée fell silent, staring at her as the silence painfully wrapped them both. He was waiting for her to cry and hurt him, throw things at him, call him an asshole and slap him across the face, or literally anything. He was waiting for her to kick him out for breaking her heart or tell him she didn't even love him—even if it was a lie—anything. But she stood there, glossy eyed and fighting back tears.

“Y/N, I-”

“No. You're stuck with me, Timothée. I'm not going anywhere.”

Timothée sighed, this woman was going to be the death of him. She was absolutely stubborn, and could be a pain in the ass if she wanted to. “Y/N, you're being stubborn, love.”

“Did I fucking stutter?” Y/N hissed, “I'm not going anywhere.” She enunciated each word as if he was a little kid or as if he was stupid. Maybe he was stupid.

Timothée groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/N, please don't make this any more harder—”

“No.” Y/N outright refused. “Haven't you met me? I'm not letting you go just because you're insecure. I'm stubborn? Hell yes, I fucking am.”

Timothée mentally kicked himself. He should have expected it when she refused to let him break up with her, he knew she wouldn't go down without a fight, and nothing will be easy with this stubborn woman—his stubborn woman. Timothée shut his eyes tightly; just looking at her, fighting for him, was painful. “Y/N,you don't know . . . you don't know what you're saying.”

Suddenly, Y/N crashed her lips into his, taking him off-guard. Timothée shut his eyes tight as he felt his knees buckle at the touch of her lips. Her fingers weaved through his curls, making him moan. Before he had the chance to think, he had his fingers buried in her long hair as he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, taking dominance. She tasted like heaven and sin, he was addicted.

Y/N moaned, the sound of her moans made him crazy, making his already throbbing cock painfully twitch inside of his jeans. It was usually him taking dominance, and she loved it. But now, it was Y/N taking charge as she shoved him against the door, and he loved it. His hands went down to her ass, taking in handfuls of it. How he wanted to rip the dress off her and just devour her. Her lips felt like drugs, pulling him in deep every time. And then he finally realized what his intentions really were. He practically threw her off of him, feeling guilty when she yelped because she fell onto the floor.

“I'm sorry. I . . . I have to go,” Timothée said in a panic and ran out of her apartment, with Y/N trailing behind him.

“Tim! Please, don't leave me….” Y/N called out to him from the doorway, tears in her eyes. He turned back and watched the tears stream down her cheeks. Timothée felt his heart break, he was being an dick to the woman he loved. Even if it was cowardice, he turned his back on her and walked away.

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. The man she loved, the man she wanted to grow old with, left and broke her heart. She wanted to scream and shout, she wanted to trash her apartment in rage and heartbreak. How was she supposed to live without him? Her other half? Y/N fell onto her knees and cried her heart out.

An hour later she tried calling him, but he wasn't answering. She tried leaving voice messages, begging him to think about it and come back to her. She cursed him, yelled, cried, for hours until her body gave out and finally passed out.

A week later, Y/N was still crying her heart out. She was still leaving Timothée messages, still begging him to come back. But still, he wasn't answering. Her friends were getting worried, leaving her texts and calls as well, but she didn't answer any of her friends' calls and texts.

Meanwhile, Timothée was drinking his guilt away. He kept on repeating each and every one of Y/N's voice messages. Hearing her cry and begging for him to come back made his insides twist, but he just wished that she'd forget about him and move on. But there was a part of him that hated himself for breaking her heart and wanted nothing more than to rush back to her place and kiss her, hug her, apologize for being such a dick. He would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't want to be with her. He wanted to marry her, have a family with her. But his insecurities got the best of him. The past year of being in a relationship with her was the best year of his life. He missed her terribly, but he fucked it all up.

Timothée sighed, before lowering his boxers. He stroked his throbbing length as he moaned her name.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, oh baby.” he moaned as he moved his hand up and down his cock, quickening his pace as he relived the memory of fucking her against the balcony of his home. Her body, he wanted to worship her again. Timothée wanted to suck on her breasts as he traced every curve of her perfect body. He thrust his cock in his hand, grunting when he wasn't satisfied. Timothée wanted to drive back to Y/N's place so bad, he wanted her tight pussy to clench around his cock and fuck ber until she was screaming his name and came around him. He would just have to settle for his hands for the time being then. He got his phone from his nightstand and opened his gallery. He clicked open his private album of photos of her that he had taken while and after they had sex. He settled on one where her breasts and face were covered in his cum.

“Oh, Y/N, fuck!” he moaned as he came, the sticky substance covering his hands.

Another week later, he couldn't take it anymore. He missed her badly. He missed her smiles, her laugh, her sass, her care, her love, he missed her. Not having her body, not hearing her moans, not having her pussy clench against his cock, made him crazy. Timothée buried his face in his pillow, two weeks without her was absolutely killing him. But his pride was making it harder than it already was.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. He got up, silently cursing whoever was knocking on his door at this hour. It was fucking midnight, and he wasnt't expecting anyone. He opened the door and his breath caught in his throat.

“Hi.” Y/N's soft voice echoed in his ears. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair was a mess. She was wearing sweatpants and a shirt two sizes larger. “Can I come in? Or should…..should I just go?”

“Uh, yeah. Come in.” Timothée opened the door wider and stepped aside to make way. “How…how are you?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“Shitty. Absolutely shitty.” Y/N muttered as she made her way to his living room. “You?”

Timothée stiffened, should he admit that he missed her so bad and was an absolute dickhead for everything? He stared at her, she looked miserable. She looked thinner since two weeks ago, her eyes were dull and practically lifeless. Timothée felt his heart break even more, the woman he loved was miserable because of him.

“It's bullshit.”

Y/N smirked at him, “Easier, huh?”

Timothée chuckled nervously, “Nope, it isn't.” The two of them locked eyes, and before they knew it, they were kissing each other with the passion that burned inside of them. His fingers ran through her hair as his tongue entered her mouth, savoring the addicting taste of her. Y/N pulled away, which made him whine at the feeling.

“What are we, Tim? I can't do this if you won't give me a proper answer.” Y/N whispered, her gaze slowly going down.

Timothée tilted her head up, “I'm sorry for being an idiot.”

“You're my idiot.” Y/N chuckled softly, “Are we okay again?” she asked hesitantly. Instead of answering her, he crushed his lips against hers. “Mine.” he moaned into the kiss.

“Yours, forever yours.”

Timothée picked her up, lips still locked together, her legs wrapping around his waist. He brought her up to his room and placed her gently on the bed.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much, Y/N.”

“I love you, Timmy. More than anything.” Timothée took off his shirt before pressing his lips back on hers, parting her lips with his tongue. He sucked on her tongue, savoring the sweet taste of her. Y/N bit on his lower lip, that made him moan into the miss. His hands trailed over her body while she pulled on his hair, whimpering at his touch.

Timothée pulled away, tugging on her shirt, taking it off of her. He unclasped her lacy red bra with ease, taking off the offending fabric off of her chest.

“I missed these.” Y/N moaned as Timothée sucked on one of her breasts while her hands made their way to the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down along with his boxers. His cock was hard and throbbing as it sprung free.

“I still get surprised with how big you are.” Y/N chuckled, kitten licking the tip of his cock.

“Don't tease, princess.” Timothée whined. Y/N licked the tip one last time before bobbing up and down, taking his length in her mouth.

“Merde! Princess, fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good.” he moaned, thrusting his hips forward making Y/N gag, drool dripping from the side of her mouth. She cupped his balls, sucking him harder and faster.

“Oh, fuck, I-I'm g-gonna cum!” Timothée moaned as he released in her mouth. Y/N sucked hard, making sure to take every last drop of his cum.

“Good girl. Now, on your back, princess.” he demanded, his voice husky. He slid her sweatpants down, taking her panties along with it. He slipped two fingers inside of her, making her whimper. He watched her as he moved his fingers in and out her, grinning when she gasped when he rubbed his thumb over her clit. “You like that, don't you, princess?” he whispered in her ear. “So wet for me, eager for my cock, aren't you?”

“Yes, oh, f-fuck! Right there!” When he felt her walls beginning to clench around his fingers, he smirked and removed them, making her whine at the empty feeling. “Please, Tim, d-don't tease!”

“What do you want, princess? You want my cock, huh, princess? Beg for it.” Timothée whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Please, Timmy, I want you, I need you! Fill me up with your cum until my knees give out!” Y/N begged, rubbing her thighs together to temporarily ease her desire.��

Timothée lined his cock up to her entrance, pushing in slow and deep, making her hiss. “So tight, fuck.” he groaned as thrust in and out of her at a slow pace, letting her adjust. He savored the feeling of being inside of her, her walls delectably suffocating his cock. He briefly pulled out of her only to thrust back in hard and deep, Y/N moaned loudly. “Fuck, harder! Please!”

Timothée growled loudly and withdrew again, plunging back into her and hard and deep. “Mine,” he said in a gasping breath as he quickened his pace, Y/N's arms wrapping around him, her nails digging on his skin. Timothée gripped her hips, thrusting in and out rhythmically.

“All yours, forever yours, only yours.” Y/N moaned. Timothée panted against her skin, growling and sucking at breasts.

“I'm g-gonna cum!” Y/N whimpered, her nails digging deeper into his skin.

“Cum for me, princess. Come around my cock. Gonna cum too, fuck!”

“Oh fuck!” Y/N cried out, her arms and legs wrapping around him and gripping him tightly as she came hard around him. Timothée grunted as he spilled inside of her, “Fuck, I love you.” he whispered in her ear as he collapsed on top of her, kissing her neck up to her lips.

“I love you more.” Y/N chuckled tiredly. Timothée flipped her over so she was laying on top of him. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled on his chest.

He missed her so much, and Timothée vowed never to let go of his woman ever again.

“I love you, more than words can ever describe.”

@helens3amstuff @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @bobthe-turmpetman29

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dazais-guardian-angel · 1 year ago

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Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

#bungou stray dogs #seriously call me a clown and point and laugh at me if I'm proven wrong all you want #but I really feel like there's solid evidence for this #either s5 isn't gonna reach 109 at all (but I seriously cannot fathom where you would want to stop before then) or they'll go beyond it #if they really do end it with 109....... well i'll give Bones kudos for having the balls to do that ig lol #maybe i'm underestimating (overestimating???) them idk #also just to clarify I don't wanna make it sound like I think Asagiri let the anime/Bones dictate the manga's pacing #like I'm sure these were his/their (him and Harukawa's) own decisions first and foremost #not that (if this theory is true) the anime had a major impact on how the chapters were split and that it-#-would have been extremely different otherwise #i'm pretty confident in that Asagiri does not do anything with BSD he isn't comfortable with #and he doesn't let anyone tell him how to write his story #I just feel like he worked with Bones to make this near-simultaneous release happen #BUT if this is the case I don't feel like it had any major effect on the writing/final product that is the manga #like the last handful of chapters have been so incredible #so I at least am still perfectly happy lol #(i mean i'm devastated and a nervous wreck but u know 🫡 in a good way lmao)#anyway 110 in two days please let this theory be true because I need some fucking hope already #please let Oda show up as Dazai's guardian angel to help (see what I did there-)#it would be the perfect way to end the collective season that is 4/5 with s4 beginning with Oda and now ending with Oda #Asagiri are you reading me are you picking up what I'm putting down please please a ghost Oda is long overdue please-#Oda Verlaine Adam just GIVE ME SOMEONE ALREADY 😭😭😭#MAYBE EVEN A TASTE OF THE FYODOR BACKSTORY TO TIE INTO HIM BEING IN ANIME UNTOLD ORIGINS. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

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satelliteddie · 2 years ago

Text

love of my life - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: after just barely surviving the upside down, eddie remains in hiding in a hotel room away from hawkins. he’s beginning to go stir crazy when his best friend finally comes to visit him.

content warnings: NSFW (18+) MDNI; smut with plot, idiots in love, mentions of injuries from S4, fix-it fic, (unprotected) piv sex, handjob/fingering, cream-pie, language, pet names, showering together, aftercare

word count: 6.1k sheesh I got carried away

author’s notes: this picks up right where S4 should have ended, with Eddie alive and in hiding ;) ahh he’s so pretty

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

Days seemed to stretch to unbelievable lengths as Eddie stared up at the monotone motel ceiling. He’d come close to counting every crack in the ceiling tiles — since he’d already counted all of them. 56 tiles. 13 have water stains. The group had promised Eddie it would only be a couple of days in this horrible room while they cleared his name. Escaping the Upside Down was nearly impossible as everyone was drained and some wounded. Eddie suffered from near-fatal bites from demo-bats, but once Steve and Dustin dragged him back to Hawkins to meet up with the rest of the group. Through all of it, all that consumed Eddie’s brain was finding you. Nancy, Robin, Dustin and Steve tried to convince him he needed to take care of himself first and hide away before anyone in Hawkins realized he was alive. Stupidly, he agreed to leave without seeing you one more time. It had been two days since then, the cheap motel on the edge of Lafayette, Indiana, was starting to feel like it was shrinking. The take-out boxes, dirty clothes, and cigarettes were beginning to pile up. Steve had gotten the room for Eddie and stayed with him the first day; Robin came the second day with beers in hand and a sympathetic smile. He appreciated both of them coming to see him, but truly Eddie just wanted you. He wanted to hold his best friend and see that she was alright. He wanted to tell you how he really felt, no more worrying about the what-if’s. He could care less about himself and what was going to happen to him…he just needed to know that you would be okay. He needed you. Eddie had been laying on the bed for hours, tossing up a rolled pair of socks at the ceiling. It kept his hands busy while his mind ran off coming up with endless ways for this all to end.

The third day seemed to be the longest so far, the rain pounding against the windows made it hard to tell what time it was. All the time alone, cut off from the outside world and his friends, reminded Eddie too much of the time on the run from the cops and Jason not too long ago. It was all building up in his head, the weight of running and the trauma he’s suffered settling on his shoulders. Even when Steve and Robin came to visit, the tension in his muscles remained and his mind was scattered. Logically everyone knew Eddie couldn’t stay at the hotel using someone else’s name forever, but it was as good as they could do for now to keep him away from Hawkins. The more hours that passed, the more time Eddie had to replay every second of his last week at home. Everything went to shit.

Take a walk on Sunday through the afternoon

We can always find something for us to do

We don't really like what's on the news, but it's on all the time

The muted TV buzzed in the corner of the room, tuned into whatever news channel was clear. Occasionally, news from Hawkins would make it to the mainstream news that was broadcasted here. That’s when Eddie would come face to face with his wanted poster — that now had turned into a ‘presumed dead’ poster. He never liked what was on the news, but it’s on all the time. Eddie’s tosses began to slow, becoming bored with the game he created; he chucked the balled up socks at the wall beside him, the cloth hitting the plaster with a thud. Footsteps splashed their way through the puddles on the outside of the motel room. Eddie shuffled off the bed, ducking behind the mattress to watch the shadows through the hotel curtains. He snatched the tv remote off the bedside table, the closest “weapon” he could find. Eddie’s eyes remained fixed on the room door, watching to see if the knob would move. Steve had told him that someone would be coming today at some point — could he be more vague? Eddie thought as he continued to watch the door. There were only two keys to the room, Eddie had one and the other was passed around the group to come visit. So, logically if the door opened without incident it was a member of the Party. The heavy hotel room door swung open just enough for a petite figure to slip inside, turning to shut and lock it while shaking the rain off their jacket. A black duffel bag fell to the floor near the door, while the figure turned around. The jacket hood slipped down, exposing hair and a face that Eddie knew better than his own.

“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks slowly rising from his hiding place. You turn to him, the worry in your eyes disappearing to be replaced with warmth. “You’re here,” he says as if the words will convince him you’re not just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m here,” you respond, taking careful steps away from the door. The hotel room is stale, cold, and dim, but when looking at Eddie it feels like you could be on a beach in the Caribbean. He radiates everything good and warm.

Eddie drops the remote from his grasp, fumbling his way around the bed to scoop you into him. He wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you off the ground as you cling around his neck. Three days without seeing each other felt like a lifetime — what you both experienced was enough to last a lifetime anyways. You’re not sure how long you stay with your arms around Eddie’s neck, your fingers combing over his curls. Slowly, Eddie lowers you back to the floor moving his hands away from your waist to hold your face in them. You raise your much smaller hands to lay over top of his on your cheeks. Eddie seems to be bursting at the seams, a smirk stuck on his face and his eyes are the color of the perfect cup of coffee.

“Are you okay?” You whisper, your eyes lingering on the healing gashes on his neck and face.

Eddie’s smirk morphs into a full grin, “yeah, I’m okay now.” He can’t resist the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead, so he presses his lips against your skin. The stress in his muscles dissipates as he holds you close to him, Eddie’s mind is muted and all that remains is his love for you.

I take you with me every time I go away

In a hotel, using someone else's name

I remember back at Jonny's place, it's not the same anymore

Reluctantly, Eddie lets you go to retrieve the duffle from the door. You grab the bag and toss it onto the bed, “I tried to get whatever I could from the trailer.” Laying out the contents across the comforter: Eddie’s D&D campaign notebooks, music tapes and walkman, Lord of the Rings books, old music journals, and any other distractions you could reach — anything from the trailer that would make him feel at home.

“I bought canned foods,” you place the cans on the bedside table. “But I just wanted to bring you some stuff from home too.”

Eddie lingers near the end of the bed, silently reaching and brushing his fingers over the books you brought him. He reaches for a tattered leather journal that held ideas for new Corroded Coffin music. You had spent endless nights in Eddie’s room, sprawled out on the bed watching contently as he scribbled in the pages. He would never let you read the songs, shielding the words from you as he wrote. You would lay with your head in your hands, hoping the songs he wrote were about you. The truth was, most of them were about you — you had slowly become Eddie’s muse. You and Eddie both had fallen into the cliche of best friends who don’t realize they’re both in love, and are too worried to say anything. So the two of you had succumbed to a comfortable rhythm with lingering touches and longing stares. Eddie would constantly think of you whenever you two were apart, especially over these last three days. He replayed moments spent together, the ones only the two of you shared… singing in his room, watching the sunset at Lover’s Lake, creating new campaigns at Skull Rock, and all those other private moments he cherished. He took you with him every time he went away. It didn’t matter how far or for how long.

“I- thank you,” Eddie clutches the journal to his chest, his eyes misty. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” He kneels down on the mattress, pushing all of his things closer to him. Eddie rubs a rough hand over his face, sniffling and trying to suppress his tears. His hands shake as he wipes away the tears that manage to escape.

“I’m so sorry Eds,” you sit down on the bed amongst all his things. You reach out and place your hand on his thigh, “you don’t deserve any of this. This isn’t fair to you.”

Eddie sighs and drops his hands to hold yours, his eyes are bloodshot and wet as he looks back at you. “You don’t deserve this either, sweetheart. Yet, here we are.” A bitter laugh comes from him as he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Eddie carried so much guilt along with his own trauma from the last couple of days, he didn’t know how to even begin processing it. Being Eddie’s best friend caused you to be roped into everything. Which meant when Eddie went missing, Max and Dustin’s first stop was at your house. Immediately you believed the children, that you had spent very little time with, but knew they had Eddie’s best interest in mind. That’s when Dustin, Steve, Max, and Robin sat you down to explain just how bad things were going to get for Eddie. Had he not tried to help Chrissy or run off, maybe Eddie could have protected you from the Upside Down and his own personal demise. Over the last three days by himself, Eddie tried to imagine what it would have been like. Maybe he would have been safe and completely clueless of the alternate universe, all with you by his side. Instead now he was sitting on a musty hotel bed, eating out of tin cans while you still cared for him as if nothing had changed. Everything was falling apart around you, even though you trudged on as if the world wasn’t ending and Eddie wasn’t a wanted criminal. He could swear you still looked at him like he hung the moon.

Maybe he was reading things wrong, or maybe he just didn’t care, but Eddie knew he had to tell you how he felt before it was all too late. There were too many close calls in the last week for him to count; each one nudging him closer to confessing his feelings for you like he was written into a Shakespearean Tragedy. Silence had settled in the motel room, you rubbing along Eddie’s knuckles and twisting his rings around his fingers occasionally. Eddie knew you were doing it to calm yourself more than him, but there was something so endearing about the way your hands fit perfectly in his. Eventually after the silence began to stretch, you stood from the bed and started collecting discarded wrappers and cigarette butts. Truly keeping the hotel room clean wouldn’t make a huge difference, but you wanted to try to keep Eddie as comfortable as you could. A clean room, things from home, and your presence was as good as you could do for now.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

“Yknow,” Eddie hesitates, messing with the rings on his fingers and missing the way your hands felt in his. “I’m so in love with you,” he says just above a whisper. You stop your cleaning of the hotel room to look at Eddie. He sits cross-legged on the bed, his shoes tossed aside, denim jeans and Hellfire shirt bunched from his position. You move slowly to the edge of the bed, sinking down to sit near him.

Eddie sniffles, rubbing a hand over his face before continuing, “I- I know it’s not fair to tell you that now. Fuck.” Eddie’s heart slams against his chest, the confession weighing heavy on him. “I wasted so much time in my own head, but then all of this? How could I not tell you…I just love you so much.”

You reach out to rest a hand on his lap, “Eddie-”

“No,” he raises a hand to stop you, his eyes pleading. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to say something you’ll regret. I just needed you to know you were the love of my life.”

You feel as if your ribs have been cracked open, your heart on full display, “were?”

“I’m still so painfully in love with you,” Eddie looks down at his hands again. “But this is no life for you. Living out of duffle bags and eating cold mush from tin cans. I know the trailer wasn’t much better, but Christ- at least it was a home.”

“Eddie,” you try to speak again. “I don’t care where we are. As long as I’m with you.” You rest your hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb over his jeans. Fear has lingered in Eddie’s eyes for the last few days, but you could swear he’s never looked more scared than he does right now. Your eyes have gone misty as you watch your best friend mumble into his lap, replaying every word he just spoke.

“I think I’ve loved you for longer than I even knew,” Eddie sniffles, twirling a ring around his middle finger. Eddie reaches for his song book from where you placed it on the bedside table, “I didn’t even realize it at first.” He flips through the worn pages once before setting it back down, “I just started thinking about you, then I would write about you. I couldn’t stop. I’m so stupid– fuck. What idiot falls in love with their best friend?”

You know the question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but answer anyway. “I guess that makes me an idiot, too.”

The fear in Eddie’s chocolate eyes melts into what looks like a mixture of hope and admiration. His hand is hesitant as he reaches for the crook of your elbow; you can tell from his movements he wants you closer, but doesn’t want you to run off. You take it upon yourself to raise on your knees, crawling over to him as Eddie keeps his hand on your arm. Eddie uncrosses his legs while he leans back on the headboard, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you. You straddle his legs, sitting down on his lap and clasping your hands behind his head. You stroke your fingers through his curls while his breathing remains uneasy. Eddie’s deep brown eyes trail up from your connected waists to find your eyes. Your fingers ghosting over the skin of his neck, your index finger running over the bruised skin near his pulse point. He had nearly died three days ago from injuries from the demo-bats, but he lived and had the scars to prove it. You lean forward and place a gentle kiss on the healing wound, your movements are tender and soft. Every breath you take has matched the rhythm of Eddie’s: slow and nervous.

“Eddie,” you repeat his name again. You take a deep breath, “tell me to stop.”

“No- no,” Eddie jolts, placing his hands on your hips to ground you onto him. “I’ve just- I have thought about this for so long. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You won’t, we won’t. ” you insist, twirling one of his curls around your finger. “I want you Eddie, I always have.”

It's unfortunate

Just coordinates

Eddie lunges forward to capture your lips with his. The kiss feels like the catalyst of the last few years of pining; it's clumsy and wet, but somehow perfect. The cool rings that cover Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips as he grips you closer to him. Eddie brushes his tongue against your lips gently causing you to open your mouth with a soft moan.

“Eds–” you mumble against his mouth, but Eddie doesn’t answer. He's too fixated on how you feel against him. The rubbing of your jeans against his, your hands in his hair, your mouth meshed with his. You grind your hips down in a swift circular motion, earning a groan from Eddie. You use the break in the kiss to move your mouth over the stubble on his jaw and down his neck. His skin is warm against your mouth, trailing your lips up to the junction between his jaw and ear. You suck gently, grazing your teeth over his soft skin to mark him. Mine. Your hands still remain tangled in his curls, lightly tugging at the roots while your hips continue to move against him. Eddie’s length swells beneath you, his cock pressing against your warmth as you grind on his jeans.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie pants, squeezing your hips. You pull back from his neck with a grin, tilting your face as you look at him. “Jesus– fuck. We need these off.” Eddie slips his fingers under the seam of your tee shirt, pulling the fabric over your face and tossing it behind you. He traces the edge of your bra with his fingers, the lace tickling your skin as he does. In one swift motion, Eddie flips you onto your back attaching his lips to your newly exposed skin. He trails open mouth kisses down the center of your chest to the edge of your jeans. His cool fingers play with the button on your pants for a moment before he undoes them and ditches the denim behind him on the floor.

“Perfect,” Eddie comments as his eyes scan over your body only left in your underwear. Your cheeks flush, feeling self conscious under his stare. You’ve been in bathing suits, hell even your underwear, in front of Eddie countless times…but this is different. It’s raw, intimate and it’s changing everything. “Look at me, Princess.”

You hesitate to bring your gaze back to Eddie, but when you do his face splits into an even more bashful grin. “You’re so perfect.”

“Eddie,” is all you’re able to say before his mouth meets yours again. Eddie kisses you like he’s trying to make up for lost time while also trying to take things slow enough to memorize them. He moves his lips away from yours to leave sloppy kisses on the base of your neck. Your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging him away from your skin to get him to look at you.

“You’re wearing too much,” you protest with a smile. Your small hands play with the latch on his belt, urging it open. A deep chuckle comes from Eddie as he watches you try and push his jeans down. He lifts off of you momentarily, which causes you to whine. The noise is so pretty, Eddie is sure he could cum from the sound alone. Leaning back on his knees, Eddie pulls his tee over his head ruffling his curls in the process. You lean forward to brush the hair away from his face, tucking a stray piece behind his ears. Immediately Eddie softens, his cheeks blushing to match yours. Eddie’s flustered under your gaze; he’s never had someone look at him the way you do. You’re giving him the look again where it seems like he hung the moon — and it’s because you do believe it. You just need him to believe it too. Your gentle fingers dip over the lines on his torso, gracing carefully over the bandages clinging to his skin. The soft white gauze covers his side and a few smaller bandages cling to his chest; you knew he was injured, but seeing the wounds for yourself is daunting.

You run a finger over the larger bandage on his left side. Your mind races as you look back at him, “are you sure you’re okay to-”

“Yes,” Eddie replies before you can finish your question. His eyes linger on your hands on his torso. He knows what you’re asking…and logically he should rest and not stress his recovering body. But he’ll be damned if he lets the Upside Down take this moment too.

I don't know you half as well as all my friends

I won't pretend that I've been doing everything I can

To get to know your creases and your ends

Are they the same?

The rest of your clothes and Eddie’s are off in a flash being tossed to the floor without a second thought. Eddie’s hands roam over the soft expanses of your skin, basking in every piece of your body and how it feels under his touch. He tries to memorize this feeling — he’s doing everything he can to get to know your creases, dimples, freckles. Everything. You squirm under him, moving your hands up and down Eddie’s biceps as he traces your skin. He drags his cool rings over the valley between your breasts before cupping your cheek, a smirk still pulling at his lips. Eddie presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth while rolling his hips into yours. A gasp falls from your lips as you feel his length rub against you; Eddie continues to move his hips while you reach between your close bodies. Your hands reach his cock, stroking it once as Eddie moans your name into the crook of your neck. You continue to work your hand over him, pumping at an excruciating pace. Eddie’s hair tickles your neck as he hangs his head, panting from your touch. Subconsciously, you rub your thighs together desperate for any type of friction. Eddie feels you shift under him, trying to relieve the tension building in your cunt. As much as Eddie would love to see you come undone just from touching him and the slow rubbing of your thighs — he can’t have you doing everything on your own. He pushes away from where his hands are gripping the bed sheets to slip between your legs. You moan as Eddie reaches your clit, rubbing slow circles against the bundle of nerves.

“Need, I- I need,” your thoughts are jumbled as Eddie’s fingers work and you continue to palm his length.

“C’mon pretty,” Eddie coos, finally lifting his head away from your neck to look at you. “Tell me what you need. Anything you want, Princess. Name it.”

“I need you, Teddy,” you lock your focus on Eddie’s deep eyes. His hungry and lustful demeanor softens, leaning down to kiss you slow and sweet. His fingers never stop their motions on your folds, but they slow down as Eddie deepens the kiss. He sucks and nips at your bottom lip, trying desperately not to smile and break the kiss. Eddie’s heart and mind still can’t keep up with the fact that you’re here. She’s mine, he thinks while finally pulling away. Your eyes roll back as Eddie moves his hand deeper into your folds, curling two digits into your pussy.

“You’re the only person,” Eddie plants more kisses on your collarbone in between his words. “That I’ll- shit- I’ll ever allow to use that name.”

“Yeah?” You ask, moving your hand lower on his bulge to carefully brush your fingertips over his balls.

Eddie groans at your movements, he could burst into your hand right now if you kept touching him like this. “God- fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

You grin at his words and respond with a simple: “show me.”

Eddie shakes his head with a coy smile, pulling his hand away from your center and moving yours away from his length. You simply move your hands from between you to drape them around Eddie’s neck. Eddie lowers himself down to his forearms, brushing his cock against your sensitive bud as he moves. He doesn’t waste time capturing your lips again while he sinks into your cunt, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your eyes have fluttered shut as Eddie continues to nip and kiss your mouth. He’s only half way in, easing himself at a slow pace, “you still with me?”

“No,” you sarcastically quip back. Your eyes are heavy, but you open them to look at Eddie. “Keep going, I’m okay.”

Eddie nods quickly, pushing forward on his forearms; every inch of Eddie’s length sinks into you as he continues to press kisses along your jaw. He stills inside you for a moment as you move your hands carefully around his bandages to grip his back. Eddie rolls his hips panting against your skin as he clings to you; his right hand grips the cheap hotel sheets while his left presses into the dip of your thigh. Definitely creating a bruise. Eddie finds his rhythm quickly, every inch of his skin slapping against yours as he thrusts in and out of you. You moan into his shoulder, gripping his back and pulling his hips closer with your legs. Eddie hangs his head near your chest, licking and gently biting at your nipples. He glances down between your two bodies to watch where you’re connected; he wants to see what’s his. Eddie moans as he sees his own cock disappear into your wet walls, sliding in and out with ease.

“Jesus H–” Eddie curses, stuck in a trance as he continues to watch. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Eddie,” you pant, placing wet kisses on his broad shoulder. “Eddie, I meant what I said–”

Your mind is complete mush as he relentlessly pounds into you, but you know you have to tell him. You have to make sure he knows.

“What?” He lifts his head from where it's been hanging on your chest. His dark brown eyes roam over your face, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you. “I-” you struggle to find your words as your core pulses over Eddie’s cock. You clench your walls around him and Eddie stifles a moan into your chest, hanging his head down again. His hips slam into you, never letting up as the two of you grow closer to your climax. “Eddie,” you urge him to look at you again. “I love you.”

“Oh god,” Eddie growls, surging forward to capture your mouth with his. His lips melt into yours like the final two pieces of a puzzle. Your moans continue to break through the kiss, but Eddie isn’t phased in the slightest. He kisses you like a man possessed as his hips continue to thrust into you. Mindlessly, you clench your soft walls around Eddie’s length again just as your fingers scrape against the toned muscles of his back. Eddie pulls away from your mouth with a sloppy, wet smile, “Fuck- I love you.”

You feel your core tighten at his words, Eddie’s cock pulsing inside of you, both of you nearing release. You feel like you’re melting into the sheets, Eddie’s slick body shaking above you as his mouth hangs open. Eddie’s hips have fallen into a hurried pace, chasing his high while you fall apart under him. You trail your fingers away from his sides, gripping the roots of Eddie’s curls near the nape of his neck. “I love you,” you repeat the words to Eddie, feeling your climax approaching fast. Eddie continues to fuck you with every ounce of him, moaning over and over as you come undone. Your eyes roll back as you pulse around Eddie, falling limp on the sheets with shaky legs. Eddie keeps his pace throughout your high, riding you through it.

“Teddy,” you mumble in a haze. Your vision clears as you reach for his jawline, stroking your thumb over his plush lips. “Come for me, please. Need to feel you.” You beg as if you're asking for your own orgasm; you just need to see Eddie while he spills into you. His lips parted, pupils blown, hair matted to his skin from sweat, the bandages on his body contrasting his warm skin. Yet, he’s never looked more perfect than he does right now.

“Shit- shit,” Eddie curses, his hips snapping once more into your dripping cunt before he releases himself into you. Eddie cums harder than he ever has, collapsing down onto your chest muttering: “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair softly, moving away his sweaty bangs to press a kiss to his forehead. Your chests stick together as you try to sync your breathing; Eddie continues to mumble sweet praises into your skin, pressing kisses on any part he can reach. Reluctantly, Eddie leans away from you pulling out his softening length as you whine from the loss of contact. He sits back on his knees, “holy shit.” Eddie watches your puffy clit and folds clench, his cum dripping from you while mixed with your own arousal. You whine again as Eddie lifts off the bed, leaving you overstimulated and fucked-out.

“No-” you pout, opening your eyes slowly.

“I know, sweetheart. Give me a second, I’m coming right back.”

Eddie walks away from the bed, his naked body is blurry as your eyes struggle to stay open. Moments later, the bed dips as Eddie scoops his arms under you, lifting you off the sheets and carrying you to the small hotel bathroom. The lull of running water fills the room, fog building up inside the bathroom. Eddie presses a small kiss to your hairline before setting you down on the bathmat near the shower. A comfortable silence falls between you and Eddie, he steps under the shower offering his hand to you. You smile and grab his hand, holding onto him as you both stand under the spray. Eddie takes his time rinsing you off, washing your hair and body; his touches are slow, but purposeful. You turn in Eddie’s arms as he finishes your hair, looking up at him as water droplets catch on your eyelashes.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you trace the edge of his large bandage on his ribs, carefully pulling away the padding. Using a feather-light touch, you pull off the other gauze pads and gently rinse Eddie’s healing sides. He hisses as the water splashes some of the sore spots, gripping your arm for balance.

“Sorry-” he stutters, turning his gaze down to the tub floor.

“Don’t. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Eddie's timid eyes find yours again as he watches you clean and care for each of his wounds. You use your cupped hands to run the water over his skin, trying to avoid any unnecessary pain. After a few more minutes, Eddie turns the water off and opens the shower curtain. The bathroom is filled with so much steam you can barely see two feet in front of you. Eddie reaches for a towel, draping it over your shoulders and poking your nose. You scrunch the tip of your nose, sticking out your tongue as he smirks.

Baby, you were the love of my life, woah

Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it

It's not what I wanted, to leave you behind

Don't know where you'll land when you fly

But, baby, you were the love of my life

You tend to each of Eddie’s injuries with cautious movements and extra care. He finally gave in and sat down on the toilet, his towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Occasionally, you have him lift his arms to get a better look at the healing scars before covering them with clean bandages. It only takes a couple of minutes to replace them all and cover each with ointments, but Eddie feels like his mind is slowing down every moment with you — he wants to savor every second before you have to leave him again. He didn’t want to leave you behind, but he had no choice. Just like you had no choice but to keep him far away from Hawkins. Eddie’s eyes are heavy by the time you finish patching him up, he nearly falls forward half asleep. He’s been on the run for so long at this point that he hasn’t had a moment to truly rest. His nights have been sleepless and nightmare filled; his days are full of his face on the news, and horrifying updates on everything and everyone in his hometown. Yet, as soon as you came through his doorway today he felt like he could finally breathe. Eddie doesn’t realize he’s been staring into space until you wave a slow hand in front of him, “Eddie?”

“Tired,” is all he manages to say before rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. You offer him a weak smile and tug him out of the bathroom. Eddie plops down on the bed, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips; his happy trail even more visible as Eddie dramatically stretches. You press a quick kiss to the pudge of his lower belly, butterflies erupting in his chest as you continue to act so tenderly. He opens his eyes again to find you offering him a clean pair of boxers. After a second of contemplation, Eddie takes the clothes and slips them on before crawling under the covers. He lays sprawled on his back, left arm tucked under his head while the right stays wide open, inviting you in. You slip under the comforter with him, nuzzling into his side without any hesitation. Eddie tries not to stare too long at the fact that you’re finally wearing his shirt. He had foolishly dreamt of the day you would wear his clothes, and not just in a best friend-in-need-of-clothes-way. But rather in a domestic, romantic sense that makes Eddie all fuzzy inside.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Eddie confesses, staring down at you. You’ve successfully curled yourself into his side, getting as close as humanly possible.

Your small fingers trace shapes onto the tattooed portions of Eddie’s skin, “I don’t either.”

“Wish we could just run away from this fucking town.”

“Me too,” you admit, but quickly feel the guilt. “We just can’t leave them.” You press a kiss to the side of his ribs, just above the bandage.

Eddie doesn’t respond because he knows you’re right, but he just wishes for once he could run and it would be for a good reason… to save you. His fingers start to mimic the shapes you’ve made on his skin as Eddie runs his hands up and down your back.

“As soon as we know everyone is safe, we’ll run,” you promise, resting your chin on his chest to fully look at him. Eddie nods, his eyes feeling heavy once again and his body finally feeling peace.

“Rest baby,” you say just as Eddie starts to let the sleep take over. “Go to sleep and we’ll run away in the morning.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Eddie mumbles with his eyes still shut.

“You didn’t ask me,” you remind him. “I offered.”

You press one more kiss to the sensitive scar near his pulse point on his neck before settling into his side. You’re not sure if you will run away in the morning, or at all, but if it’ll get Eddie to finally rest you’ll tell him whatever you can. The world around you is so unsure and dangerous that it doesn’t matter what your plans are for the next day — it could all change in an instant. So instead of worrying about plans, monsters, or alternate universes, you enjoy this moment.

Eddie mutters a quick and quiet: “I love you” before he finally slips into a peaceful rest, feeling safe and content with you tucked into his side. You smile up at him even though he’s already asleep before you answer.

“You’ve always been the love of my life, Eddie.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

ahhh the last of the harrys house series :( thank you all for the love on these, its been so amazing to see everyone’s reactions to all of them xx

to find the rest of the series click here

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-meg

#eddie munson #eddie munson writing #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fics #st x harrys house #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things x you

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xoxothesubwayfugitive · 2 months ago

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My decade spanning epic canon-supporting Lucissa fic is finished

I've been chipping away at Be Careful of the Curse for exactly 8 years and finally wrapped it up yesterday. I would love for you to check it out so I've included some high points and corresponding quotes as a teaser. I'm going to add the excerpts after the cut to avoid forcing the world's longest post on you

Lucius and Narcissa as an arranged match, but only after his intended bride Andromeda runs away

Severus as their houseguest while they're newlyweds and he's fresh out of school

Difficulty conceiving that almost breaks Narcissa

Lucius's internal monologue about the diary in Chamber of Secrets

Draco's reaction to his task and taking the dark mark

Lucius and Narcissa grieving their oldest friend

An attempt at reconciliation with Andromeda

Draco realizing he will never escape a cursed life

Their first meeting after Andromeda's elopement

"How are you taking this news?" he asked her. Narcissa looked up and into the front window where she could see that the adults' conversation had turned more serious. Her father was writing something on a piece of parchment, and Lucius's mother's brow was furrowed. Behind her, life in Muggle London continued beyond the dense shrubbery.

"I haven't taken it too much at all, if I'm being honest. It's just starting to sink in, and really I've been thinking more of Andy…not that there aren't things concerning us to think of, but it's all come as such a shock to me. Apparently I'm the only one."

"No offense taken. But you have to know that your sister wasn't happy. I could always see it, and to be honest I wondered how she and I could make a go at it together."

"Really?"

"Really. Know that she'll be happier wherever she's gone, Narcissa."

"That's very sweet of you to say," she said, absentmindedly wondering what it would be like to hold his hand.

"I'm a very sweet man, you'll find. No different from when we were young." She looked up, and he had that same lazy smile on. It had been a long time since they had been alone together, a whole year since he had left school and they had been able to have breakfast, and he was really looking so much more adult that she remembered.

"I guess I can only hope so." She was smiling too.

Severus and Narcissa's friendship

Beginnings of fear and desperation

On Sunday, Lucius left before Narcissa woke, and she and Severus spent their mornings puttering about individually. Severus took advantage of Lucius's absence to spread his parchment out all across his desk, and Narcissa retrieved an abandoned baby blanket, still on the needles, from deep in a dresser drawer.

The pair decided to walk to her parents' house, even though it was windy and gray. Narcissa always preferred to walk, and Severus, knowing this, wouldn't deny her. They didn't say much on their way, but maybe halfway there Narcissa began to notice him glancing over at her and turning away quickly several times over.

"Would you like to say something?" she asked, laughing at how he had reverted to his shy old self.

"Well, yes, but maybe I shouldn't."

"Oh, now you must."

They took maybe 20 more steps, his face growing more resolute with each one.

"Lucius told me that you're trying to have a baby, and I just wanted to tell you I hope it all works out, because I know how much you want it."

Narcissa felt heat flare on the back of her neck for a moment, and couldn't think of what to say.

"I'm sorry," Severus rushed to say, resolution visibly dying out. "I shouldn't have brought it up at all. It's personal. I apologize."

"No, it's all right," she decided. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They kept walking, reaching the edges of her parents' neighborhood.

"You two really talk about things like that?" she asked. Narcissa knew they were friends, but she didn't know it ran so deep, and that was what struck her as odd about the conversation more than anything else.

"Not often," Severus replied. "But lately it seemed like something was wrong, so I asked, and he told me. And I've just been thinking about it, because I want you two to be happy. You deserve it. Your child would be lucky."

With that last sentence, there was a hard edge on his voice; clearly he was making a comparison.

Lucius was teaching Narcissa Occlumency, each day pressing her to lay Draco down and sit with him while he pried at her. Narcissa struggled with it. He wished there was someone else to teach her, but he felt increasingly strange about trusting another Death Eater with the secret that she was learning.

"But why," she cried out one day when he was once again successful at entering her mind, "are we doing this? Who will be reading my mind?"

"Cissy, it's just security. I know you understand that. We'll stop for today."

They were sitting in chairs across from one another, and he reached out to take her hand. It felt stiff.

"This is bothering me, Lucius," she said, and left him there.

Severus did come to the Manor for Christmas, but everything felt wrong. Narcissa didn't recognize the hardened man at the table with them. Severus had successfully grown as she and Lucius had encouraged, and then he had taken it into his own hands and gone even farther. He said little but not in the same way as before. Once shy, he was now terse, and somehow she felt younger than him.

"Lucius is teaching me Occlumency," she told Severus in a moment of rebellion towards them both over lunch on Boxing Day, "but I'm horrible at it."

Lucius shot her a look as Severus scoffed.

"No one is better suited to be an Occlumens than you, Narcissa," he replied. "And Lucius is not suited to teach you. Your only problem is that you have never had a secret from one another in your lives. We will practice together when we finish eating, and you'll see."

Severus was right. Although the force with which he attempted to read her was immense, it was easy, natural even, to keep him out.

"I thought we were close, Sev," she gasped out. "Why does it feel like you're a stranger when you do that?"

"That's normal, Narcissa. A good Occlumens trusts no one. That is why Lucius couldn't teach you. As cunning as he seems, he can be led."

Lucius released from Azkaban (the first time)

If he was released, Lucius would come straight there through the Floo. So all Narcissa did that day was wear out the carpet in the sitting room, and when she was done pacing, sit on the couch to rock frantically back and forth. For the first time since October, Draco was not with her or even close by; Druella had him upstairs and Narcissa had not heard so much as a hiccup between them.

She examined herself in the mirror above the fireplace. It was worse than when Lucius came home to find her pregnant; at least then there had been a reward, a happiness. Now she was looking old for the first time, she thought. At one time she had worried about ever losing the first weight she had ever gained, but now she would wish it back easily. To be plump with a new baby in your arms and your husband at your side was a thing entirely different from being a skeleton in a cardigan, hair stuck back with a quill.

There was no warning – he fell out of the fireplace before her, dirty, thin, tired, and was at her feet before she was able to stand up. Lucius buried his head in his wife's lap and cried as she clenched his shoulder to be sure it was real. Soon she slid off the sofa to kneel with him, and they embraced, undignified, at last toppling to lay down on the carpet. They bled into one another, adrift and yet moored for the first time in months.

"I am afraid to see Draco," he whispered when they were calm and simply breathing to match one another. "He will not recognize me. I am ashamed."

"Draco will know you," she replied. "He is an incredible child. He walks everywhere now. The pram has dust on it. Go shower, and I'll bring him to our room."

"A minute more," he breathed.

The diary

Lucius hated that book.

He had a trunk full of things locked away that Narcissa didn't know he had, and now Arthur Weasley, true to his name, was trying to weasel his way in their house with a warrant to find exactly what Lucius swore wasn't there. Mostly the things were trivial, or at least not so illegal that he could really be in any trouble over them. Potion ingredients that had been outlawed only recently, and some cursed family heirlooms that could go to no safer home than a locked case in the Manor. But that damn diary! The Dark Lord had never been a lover of things, and yet he told Lucius so clearly that that musty book needed to be kept safely with everything else that prying eyes should never see. And Lucius, for all his casual attitude in front of his wife, did not feel confident enough to dispose of something his master might one day come looking for. In a way, it was Lucius's most prized possession, and he didn't even know what it was, except to understand that he should not have it.

And worse than all that was the damned stinging on his left arm the entire time Draco was away at school. It didn't feel like it ever had before; it was more like his arm was asleep, except it stayed contained entirely to the margins of the Mark. He was frustrated and confused and by the time summer arrived and Draco was home, he was ungodly hot. The summer raged the way it had when Narcissa was pregnant, and finally by the end of it Lucius could no longer reason his way through anything that was troubling him, and instead swept all the artifacts into a box and thrust it into his son's arms, and led him down Knockturn Alley.

Draco's Mark

"I don't…" He was stuttering. "Mummy…"

Narcissa wanted to burn the Manor down with everyone inside. This brutal building that she had promised Lucius to never leave, that she had spent her childhood dreaming of as a home – it meant nothing to her now as she saw her son imprisoned in its walls. Their husband and father had failed them; her son, her shy, talented son, was crying to her because he was afraid of something from which they could not protect him.

"I know, Draco," she managed to say. "It's not a nice thing. But you'll be like your father. Isn't that a good thought? He will be so pleased when you see him again."

"I don't care about…that," he replied. She heard him bite off the word him. "I don't want to be in this position. I don't want to feel like you aren't safe because of me –"

"I am protecting you, Draco," Narcissa rushed to say. "Don't think of it like that. Of course I will always be the one to protect you. It’s just the Mark.”

Of course it wasn’t just the Mark. It was him as a replacement for a disgraced father. A human sacrifice. They went in to see the Dark Lord and that was unfolded to them both, and she felt her body weaken and her feet turn numb. She reached out for Draco’s hand and it wasn’t there. He was holding his arms tight in front of him and curling in as if his stomach hurt.

“None of that now, Draco,” he was chided. “Narcissa, why don’t you help him with his sleeve?”

There was blood in her mouth. She had bitten herself that fiercely. She tried, as she reached out again and made contact, to still Draco. To show him some comfort through her touch. She heard him choke, though, and then she couldn’t resist wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his bare skin was presented to their master.

Severus

"Yes, Cissy, I was with him, briefly. I was actually…" There he squeezed his eyes shut tight, and took a deep breath and held it. "I was with the Dark Lord, and he told me to fetch Severus. He didn't tell me why, but now I know…and it was me…"

Narcissa took his hand and squeezed, and leaned closer to him. "You know he was going to do what he had decided to do either way."

"I know. But I should have thought twice that he even asked it of me, when it would be so easy to just summon him. It did take me a while, limping around in the dark and with everything in disarray."

"Tell me what he said. Please."

"We just spoke as we always have. He told me I shouldn't be out in my condition, and I asked him if he thought I had a choice. I asked him about Draco and he told me that he knew McGonagall would still do her best to protect all of the students. He asked where you were –" At this, Narcissa had to press her face down into the bed beside him, "and I told him what I had asked you to do. He rolled his eyes and asked me if I really believed you would listen to me. And we clasped hands as we always did, and he went away."

They stayed like that, in the hazy, white silence, holding on to one another, for a long time as Narcissa cried. She thought of how close she had come to dying while giving birth to Draco, of Severus as a boy flinching away from her cousin in the Great Hall, the meals she had eaten with him alone in the townhouse. His brief, cryptic confession to her and her alone that he was not exactly who he seemed. The night at Spinner's End…

"I knew," Narcissa said into the mattress. "Not everything – not even close to everything. But he told me once that Dumbledore was right to trust in him and get him out of Azkaban. And it made me cold to him for a long time. I was mad at him because you weren't free. I was angry that he would come back to our home and keep deceiving you, and I only let it go because I needed him, I needed the help he gave me…look at everything he did, every person he saved while he was so unhappy…and I thought less of him…"

It took time for her to quiet again, with Lucius gently tracing his thumb back and forth across her forehead.

"But you knew," she finally asked. "When I saw you again in the forest, you knew he was dead."

"Yes. He couldn't leave it alone. He had to show me, and Bellatrix, and a few others. He called us and made us look at what could become of his servants. If he could do it to Severus, surely anyone…and it was sickening. I will never unsee it. I was going to tell you…" he paused and stared away from her with his brow knit, as if on the brink of something dangerous. "If something had happened to Draco, I was going to tell you that we had to give up. We were never going to get the life we were promised. I was wrong about it, all this time. We would have been his playthings forever." Now it was his turn to choke back tears. "And I dragged you into it, both of you. Draco will have that awful Mark forever. And I encouraged Severus, when he was so eager to find a family, and I had everything. He would have done anything I asked of him, and I let him…"

"Let's stop now," Narcissa soothed him, although her voice was still bloated too, and her nose was running, "you have to get well, and this day has already been so long. Let's see if I can find Draco, and then maybe we can eat again. Let's try to be calm for him."

Andromeda

"I heard that Lucius was hurt." This was not an expression of sympathy, beyond opening the door for Narcissa to share.

"He should have died. I thought Draco and I had just watched him die. It's aged him greatly."

"I feel like I'm 75."

"Me too."

Andromeda got up to heat more water, leaving Narcissa to stare at a man's cloak still hanging on a hook by the back door. For the Malfoys, the end of the War seemed like the end of everything, of their purpose and reputation. Andromeda was left to start over entirely with a baby, all alone.

"I want to give you money, Andy," Narcissa said when the teapot was refilled. There was no reason to try to temper the words or wait to ask; the two were not likely to start spending cozy afternoons together with regularity. There was no relationship to protect from awkwardness. "I know it's forward, and maybe you have savings, maybe there are things I don't know about. But I know you'll never get it from Mother and Father, and I know Remus and Nymphadora were working for love of a cause, not to make money. Let us do something."

"I have a pension from Ted, and there's a Victim's Fund for both of us. Harry wants to take care of Teddy."

"Harry will have his own family someday, and I hope you are going to live a long life. All I want is to give what should have been your inheritance. It's ridiculous of them to leave it all to me when I'm already – when Lucius and I are so lucky."

"I've been reading about his sentencing in the paper. Don't you think you're going to need it?"

"No. You were engaged to him once, Andy. You saw how it is."

"Merlin. Don't remind me of that. What are you going to do if I say no?"

Draco

They did get to the study eventually, and Lucius sat next to his son on the battered leather sofa there, conjuring a glass of water before anything else.

"Is she that sick, Draco? Do we need to do something tonight?"

Draco shook his head. He was hunched over his knees, one hand shielding his face from his father.

"I just didn't…I never wanted it to be like this. I know it's childish to say that, but life wasn't supposed to be…"

"It is not childish, Draco, to not want your wife to die."

He started to nod, but his sobs redoubled and he bent fully forward, clutching at himself. All Lucius could do, having never been the parent responsible for this sort of comforting, was place a hand on his back and wait.

#lucissa #malfoys #lucius malfoy #severus snape #narcissa malfoy #draco malfoy #harry potter #lucius x narcissa #pro snape #black family #the black sisters #andromeda tonks #my fics #bellatrix lestrange #marauders

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alliaskisthepossibilityoflove · 7 months ago

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[podfic] my heart’s over-pumping and your mouth is an ambulance

written by fleetinghearts and read by All_I_Ask

(description in alt)

9-1-1, Teen and up, Buddie, approx. 1 hour 15 minutes

Summary:

a fever, a party, a late night tv show: three times eddie’s heart falls out his ass because buck keeps looking at him like that. he’s just got to find a way to tell him that doesn’t involve a convoluted cephalopod analogy about love

The most important tag:

just 3 times eddie's like if i could superglue my mouth to buck's all would be right in the world

The cover art (description in alt):

A snippet:

A teeny tiny giggly outtake:

And the whole story is on AO3 - there are two versions of the podfic, with and without musical transitions

Thank you Nina, always, for allowing me to record your words 😍

tags under the cut

I was left unsupervised with Canva and you can all suffer with the consequences 😁 I know neither the moodboard nor the cover is "good" but I made myself laugh and that is the most important thing

Using this as my inspiration Saturday/ several sentences Sunday - here is my longest podfic yet🥳

I was tagged by @wikiangela and @dangerpronebuddie - thank youuu❤️

Tagging @shitouttabuck 😍😍😍, @diazsdimples, @tizniz, @eddiebabygirldiaz,

@cal-daisies-and-briars, @lover-of-mine, @try-set-me-on-fire, @daffi-990,

@bucksbisexualawakening, @bucksbignaturals, @idealuk, @acountrygirlsfun,

@rhea314, @gracieryder, @mayonnaisetoffees, @aroeddiediaz,

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @renecdote, @devirnis, @rewritetheending,

@hattalove, @captain-hen, @suavecitodiaz, @eddiegettingshot,

@thewolvesof1998, @glorious-spoon, @hoodie-buck, @spotsandsocks,

@exhuastedpigeon, @rainbow-nerdss, @epicbuddieficrecs, @chronicowboy,

@your-catfish-friend, @burnthatbridge, @hmslusitania, @extasiswings,

@underwaterninja13 and anyone else who'd like to share anything, no matter how bad you think it is - I can guarantee I'll LOVE IT❤️

(lmk if you want to be added or removed)

An extra thank you to @gracieryder for putting together and sharing podfic resources ❣️ (come join the podfic fest!), because I can finally add cover art without pulling half my hair out and/or feeling like an idiot

#my podfic #Adventures in podficcing #911 abc #Buddie

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macabr3-barbi3 · 3 months ago

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God, That's Good!

Chapter 4: Ah, Miss

Across town from Fleet Street, Charlie reflects on what she wants- and Vaggie reflects on Charlie.

Act 1: Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6 🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

Tags: Charlie being a Disney Princess, starstuck Vaggie, Sera is The Worst™️

Thank you as always to my beloved @fraugwinska 💕❤️

Charlie knew that Adam and Sera were lying to her- and had been since she was a child taken into their care.

True, her memories are vague, but they are there. Her mother and father, deeply in love with one another and not a pair of criminals only interested in drugs and money. Sometimes if she closes her eyes and concentrates she can almost see the ghost of their faces- a man with a kind face and a neat mustache that looked so much like her, a woman so fair and beautiful that all she had wanted at eight years old was to be her when she got older. And she looks like her now, fifteen years later.

At least, that’s what Adam tells her. She doesn’t like the way he says it lately, standing too close to her in the tiny hallway between their respective rooms in his house, like he’s looking at her but seeing her mother. Charlie remembers him coming to their home as a child, her Uncle Adam, always quick to teach her a curse word and bring her candy that her mother didn’t think she should have. They would drink and play cards together while Charlie drew or read or played with her dolls, and she had thought everything was fine- perfect, in the way that most eight year olds think that their parents and close relatives are when they’re young.

For the most part he leaves her alone. Sera is the one that really provides for her beyond a roof over her head- taking her to Church with her daughter Emily, ensuring that Charlie is well educated and well spoken, providing the books she reads, the clothes she wears, the places she goes. And in Emily, at least, she does have a friend; someone to bond with over how strict the Beadle was, both in the home and outside of it, to talk to about the experiences that they were missing. Charlie might have turned out just like Emily; content and ignorant in her essential isolation, not knowing what else there really was in the world outside of home and Church if it wasn’t for the young man that frequently came down the street on the way to his… ‘partner’s’ house.

Anthony- though he asks her to call him Angel, short for Angel Dust, being so close to his not-quite-boyfriend’s home- is an absolute delight. Having really only had Emily for company for the longest time, he was an interesting change of pace. It had been a couple of months now since he had come to town, and the first time that she met him she had known, somehow, that they would be fast friends.

“Hey, toots,” he had called from below her balcony, while she had been so engrossed in tracing the constellation Andromeda in the sky one night that she hadn’t even realized he was there. “Ya got a light?”

She had startled, scraping her elbow on the stone of her railing as she registered his words and presence. He was tall and lithe, slender, his clothing in style but far tighter than most men wore their garments. It took her a moment before she recognized him as one of the new faces that had been spotted hanging around the ‘brothel’ in town when Sera took her and Emily to Church on Sundays, draped through the arms of the tall, flamboyant man that ran the place. Sera always led them away as quickly as she could, but that didn’t stop Charlie from noticing, even at a distance, the difference in the coloration of his eyes. That night, a few feet below her, it was even more evident- a sweet, soft brown on the left, greenish hazel on the right.

She had given him a book of matches, and since that night she was out here all the time, waiting for him to come by in the later hours of the night. When Adam was out at parties and such Charlie would risk coming downstairs, right to the wall a few feet past her balcony so that she could talk to Anthony face to face instead of from above him. He was reserved at first, a little guarded with her being the ward of the Judge and his occupation being technically illegal, but the more they got to know each other the more they trusted one another.

Anthony told her so much about the world outside of New Orleans- having come from New York City, where things were faster, vibrant, more exciting. Everything seemed so much bigger from his perspective, and Charlie needed to see it for herself.

She hadn’t yet told him of her plans to leave; she hadn’t told anyone. Sera had been pushing the idea of marrying her off, which Charlie wasn’t interested in the slightest, and Adam continued to act strangely around her. She wants to go South to find her father- if he was truly holed up in some prison like Adam and Sera told her, there should be some record of it, some path that she could trace to him so she could finally hear from him directly if what they had said was true- that they were criminals, that they plotted against Adam, that he had killed her mother before Judge Cain had him sent away. It wouldn’t change anything, but she thought the knowledge might give her closure, finally reconcile the image of her father she had kept in her head for fifteen years with the man he really was.

It would kill her to leave Emily behind. The younger girl was like a sister to her, the closest friend she had besides Angel, but she didn’t think that she would come. When Charlie spoke to her of the things she learned from Anthony- fun, exciting, scandalous things that had Charlie blushing some nights over the garden wall- Emily wasn’t as intrigued. She was content in the life her mother had set up for her, engaged to a nice young man named Peter from the Church and ready to marry within a few months and be a perfect, dutiful housewife like Sera had been before her husband died and she devoted herself to the Church and the Judge.

That wasn’t the life Charlie wanted. She wanted to see the world and help people, people like Anthony that ended up down on their luck and made to go into whatever industry would have them just to survive. She had plenty of savings- Adam had a habit of gifting her money for things like her birthday, even though Sera rarely took her to any stores to buy anything with it- and she had enough of an idea of what she wanted to do to give her conviction in her plan. She didn’t know when, but soon she would leave New Orleans and find the answers to her questions, and do what she felt like she was meant to do.

Vaggie hadn’t meant to turn down the alley that she had- being a sailor that wasn’t in charge of navigation meant her only real sense of direction was ‘sunrise is East, sunset is West’ which didn’t help much when it was already dark- but the sight of the beautiful young woman silhouetted by the light on her balcony was well worth getting lost among the streets of New Orleans.

She leaned against the railing of her balcony, eyes cast up at the sky as she stood there, humming a song under her breath. Dazzling blonde hair fell in a loose ponytail down her back, lashes large and eyes shining in the glow of the moon. She wore a red nightgown that fell to her shins, swaying in the soft breeze of the night. She seemed calm- thoughtful, if the crease in her brow was indicative of anything.

Vaggie was no stranger to a beautiful woman, but here in the alley off the main street, nearly hidden in the shadows while she was illuminated, it seemed like she was plucked right from the Heavens themselves.

She stays unmoving as a statue. Vaggie takes a breath to call to her, say something to catch her attention so she’ll look her way, when the wind picks up and blows a thick strand of her hair into her lovely face, breaking her concentration and making her sputter at the strands in her mouth. She casts her eyes around and they settle on Vaggie, something like lightning sparking through her veins as she makes eye contact with the woman. Blue eyes, soft and brilliant and beautiful, meet her brown ones, and breath leaves her body. She manages to send enough brain signals to her muscles to wave and offer a light smile, which the woman returns with a flutter of her fingers.

“Alms,” she hears behind her, and the beggar woman from the docks with Mister Morningstar has returned. Her head still held down low, the metal cup jingling softly with the coins that Vaggie had given her earlier in the day. “Please, Miss, have mercy…”

When she turns back to the balcony, the woman has vanished.

She sighs internally but pulls about another couple coins, hesitating before dropping them. “Do you know anything about that young woman?” She asks, nodding at the balcony, and the beggar glances to the side and flinches with her whole body, jerking away from the house with force.

“Charlotte,” she says, his voice soft and mournful. “Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte- he took her, Judge Cain, won’t let anyone near her- you’d best be off before he catches you lurking- horrible things he could do, you can’t know what he’s done, poor Charlotte…”

She starts to pull away, ducking her head away from the house, and Vaggie drops the coins into the cup before it’s gone. “Wait,” she asks, but the beggar is deaf to her calls. She mutters under her breath as she slinks off, back into the shadows, leaving Vaggie alone with only a name and a vague sense of unease.

A shuffle of noise had Vaggie turning to spot a young man- tall, lithe, he wore clothing that was form-fitting and bright as he entered the alley, dragging a hand through his dark blonde locks with a sigh. He spotted Vaggie and gave a little wave as he approached.

“Fuckin’ looney, am I right?” He points at the beggar as she wanders away. “I try to avoid her when I can- ya never know if crazy is contagious. Hey, ya got a light?” He asks, holding up a ‘V’ in his fingers like he was holding a cigarette between them. “Looks like my gal ain’t out tonight.” He gestures vaguely upwards, towards the young woman, and Vaggie’s heart leaps with hope.

She fumbles in her vest for a lighter. “Of course, here.” She waits until the cigarette is lit and he’s taken a drag before she nods her head towards the balcony. “You know her? Charlotte?”

“Who? Ya mean Charlie?” An eyebrow cocks upward as he looks back at Vaggie over his cigarette. “Yeah, I know her a bit. She comes down to talk some nights when she ain’t so lost in her thoughts she doesn’t notice me, or when the Judge ain’t home.”

“The Judge?”

“Judge Cain.” He takes another drag. “I guess he’s a big deal around here- she’s like his adopted daughter or somethin’? She don’t get too specific with me when I ask but I get it. I ain’t too eager to be pokin’ around in my line of work, ya know?” He gives Vaggie a wink, waving his hands down his body conspiratorially. “Ya need to talk to her about somethin’?”

“No,” Vaggie says, “no, I was just… wondering, I suppose.” She eyes the balcony again, and the young man must see something in her face because he whistles low and chuckles.

“One sec,” he tells her, then- “Charlie!”

The shout echoes in the alley and Vaggie panics, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down to her face. “Are you fucking insane?” She asks him, but he just smirks as they hear the click of a door above them, light spilling into the area once more.

“Angel?” Charlie returns, her face peeking over the edge of the railing to spot Vaggie essentially throttling him in her frustration. Her face transforms, something akin to rage creasing her delicate brow and then she’s gone again.

“What did you do?” Vaggie demands of him, and he laughs in her face as another door slams somewhere towards the house- and then she’s there, standing at the gate to the yard in her nightgown, barefoot and beautiful.

“Release him at once,” she demands, hands braced on the metal of the gate, her voice strong and determined, and Vaggie hardly hears the man- Angel?- apologizing on her behalf, saying he provoked her, as her hands release him. “You have to be careful,” she beseeches him as he brushes off his shirt, and then turns to Vaggie and seems to lose her nerve, the anger that had propelled her down the stairs and outside. “Hi,” she says sweetly, and Vaggie steps closer to the gate.

“Hi,” she parrots. “I- I wasn’t really going to hurt him,” she says, “I just- I didn’t want him to disturb you.”

And Charlie smiles, wide and earnest, catching Vaggie off guard. “I should have known,” she says. “He’s a troublemaker- I’m Charlie,” she says, holding her hand across the gate.

“Vaggie.” Angel is snickering under his breath beside them, watching the scene unfold. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The skin beneath Charlie’s eyes crinkles. “And you! Are you a friend of Angel’s?”

A voice interrupts Vaggie’s response. “I believe that is quite enough,” it says, soft but commanding, and the trio of them turn to see a woman step into the alley- Charlie stiffens immediately at the sight of her, tall and beautiful and terrifying. Her eyes are cold, the tiny smile on her face insincere, and she looks at Charlie with a look of what can only be described as disappointment. “You know better than to be out at this hour, Charlie,” she says. “What would Adam think? It would be in your best interest to go back inside, my dear.”

Charlie ducks her head and finally releases her hand from Vaggie’s- she hadn’t even realized they were still touching one another over the gate. “Yes, Sera,” she mutters, breaking eye contact with the older woman and looking back to Vaggie. She mouths something to her, and had Vaggie not been looking she would have missed it.

“Please come back,” it looked like. And Vaggie would- she didn’t know who this woman was but unless they locked the sailor behind bars she couldn’t be kept away.

Charlie disappeared, leaving Vaggie and Angel with Sera. “You’d better run along,” she directs at Vaggie. “Judge Cain doesn’t take kindly to outsiders around his property; especially not those that seem too interested in his ward. And you,” she says looking at Angel with a cruel smile. “I should hate to think what Valentino would have to say about you loitering with others for no pay.”

Angel blanches, the color leaving his face as his head drops. “Yes ma’am,” he says quietly, angrily, and he takes off to the right, rounding the corner and disappearing from Vaggie’s sight.

With one last look at the balcony, at Sera with her lovely but unkind face, Vaggie follows suit.

Act 1: Chapter 1 🥧 Chapter 2 🥧 Chapter 3 🥧 Chapter 4 🥧 Chapter 5 🥧 Chapter 6 🥧Chapter 7 🥧 Chapter 8 🥧 Chapter 9

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #lucifer hazbin #radioapple #human lucifer morningstar #human vaggie #human alastor #sweeney todd #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ily frau <3 #God That's Good #GTG #chaggie #my stuff <3

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blondeboyfriend · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Sangwoo Oh x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I'm sorry. [ SYNOPSIS ] Desperate for guidance you turn to your parish's beloved priest. [ WORD COUNT ] 5.2k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, modern AU, y/n wears a dress, sacrilege (I sexualize Saint Sebastian among other things), violence, gore, noncon, sadomasochism, oral sex (m + f receiving), facial, vaginal fingering, virginity loss, alcohol, drugging, manipulation, gaslighting, degradation (he calls you a bitch and a slut), strength kink, size kink, creampie, blood, cannibalism, murder.

Mass was the only thing you looked forward to. All week you would anxiously await Sunday morning, unable to sleep. Sitting in the pews, hanging on your priest’s words was the only time you felt even a modicum of joy. It was a sanctuary, a place untainted by the trappings of the world.

The world was cruel and unforgiving, secular and obscene, a temptress. It stirred up the wanton feelings you tried to keep buried. Its lax rules and unrestrained passions marred you, kept you away from God’s shining light. However you never considered yourself wholly devoted to God; your relationship was always on shaky ground. Even as a kid you doubted your place in the church. The darkness lurking inside you convinced you that you weren’t worthy.

Your love of your family trumped your love of Christ. You coveted the riches of your neighbors, their fancy cars and their fashionable yet tasteful clothing. You were lazy, haunted by the illnesses you feigned as a child so you could miss school. You felt envious of your peers. Being a good Catholic came so naturally to them. Why was it such a struggle for you? Why were you cursed to wrestle with Satan?

For the longest time you kept your struggle to yourself. Sometimes you even fantasized about leaving it all behind. God wouldn’t miss a heathen, especially one constantly fighting the disgusting beast inside them. There was no point of keeping up the charade if you were so bad at it.

But that all changed when Father Sangwoo took over your parish. He was young for a priest, maybe a few years older than you at most. You constantly found yourself gazing at him during service. His voice was deep and reassuring. He was tall and had broad shoulders. He was an image of perfection, though he did look perpetually sleep deprived. His beauty was enough to make you recommit yourself to the Lord.

This revived fervor came with a new shade of self-loathing. You spent every Saturday night fingering yourself and whimpering his name. Lusting after a priest was unforgivable. But you couldn’t help it; you were insatiable.

This loathed hunger gave you the courage to linger around after mass though, your eyes fixed on Father Sangwoo. You never uttered a word or even approached him. You knew you’d end up saying something stupid. Lurking was the only intimacy you could handle. Having his direct attention would be agonizing. It’d bring you to your knees.

Usually you were content with this arrangement, but sitting in the back of the pews while two women preened him was driving you crazy. One fastened a loose button on his shirt. Another plucked a stray hair off his shoulder. You clenched your fists, digging your nails into your palm. They didn’t deserve to touch him.

You were so absorbed by your silent rage you didn’t notice him staring back at you. You flinched as your eyes met his. You tried to get up, but nearly tripped over your own foot. Your face was hot as you escaped, baptized by the crisp morning air.

“We’ll see you next Sunday, Father,” one of the women said in a sing-song voice as she brushed past you.

“We’ll see you next Sunday, Father,” you repeated under your breath mockingly.

A weighty hand grabbed a hold of your shoulder, pulling you out of your hateful haze.

“What was that?” Father Sangwoo asked, freezing you on the spot.

Your nerves got the better of you and you laughed. “It was nothing.”

You turned around to face him. He tilted his head to the side, his concerned look left you feeling exposed. It was as if he could see through you, like he could peel back whatever lies you were desperately trying to craft.

“I was just talking to myself.”

“Well that was obvious. But you didn’t answer my question. What were you saying?” he asked with a smile.

We’ll see you next Sunday, Father. You repeated the words over and over in your head, trying to conjure up a sentence that had a similar ring to it. It was maddening. Nothing came to mind. It was as if you had never spoken in your life.

“I… I said… I was saying—”

“Father!” an old woman shouted as she scurried out of the church. “There’s a bat in there!”

“Not again,” he sighed.

You went to leave but he latched onto your wrist. His grip made your joints pop.

“I’ve noticed you hanging around after service. It has me a little concerned.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh tha—that’s because I’m waiting for my ride.”

“Then why do I always see you walking down to the bus stop?”

“That’s where they get me!” you said, trying to pull your wrist out of his hand.

“That doesn’t explain why you look so miserable all the time.”

“Miserable?” you repeated in a small voice, finally freeing yourself from his grasp.

You felt ill. You always assumed you kept your anguish hidden on Sundays.

“I only noticed because I feel like that more often than not. If you ever need someone to talk to that understands, I’m here for you.”

It sounded strangely rehearsed, like he was acting in a play. But that could have been because speaking to him felt unreal. You never planned on getting this close to him.

“Father! The bat!!” the old woman called out impatiently.

“I’m on it!” He turned his attention back towards you, his gaze gentle. “Why don’t you come by the rectory tonight?”

“Me?”

He nodded. “You deserve my full attention.”

“I do?”

He patted you on the head. “Yes. I want to help you in any way I can. I hate to see any of my children so upset.”

“Fa—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he replied, disappearing into the church.

You stood, mouth agape. He had noticed you. This whole time he knew you were hanging around like a kicked puppy, watching him with sad eyes. You felt so exposed. But a part of you was elated. He wanted to be there for you. It was like a dream come true despite the anxiety it agitated.

The day crawled by. You felt like time slowed down to spite you. You paced around, practicing what you were going to say. Making a fool of yourself wasn’t an option. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you messed everything up.

Once the sun began to set you started to get ready. You dug through your closet, desperate to find something cute and modest. You weren’t planning on seducing Father Sangwoo or anything; you just wanted to look your best. You decided your best option was a black denim pinafore dress cut at the knee with a boxy white t-shirt underneath. Not too flashy, but not too matronly.

You took the last bus. It was a risky move, but you planned on asking him to drive you home after your talk. There was no way he’d say no. You’d be stranded without his assistance. Plotting to take advantage of his kindness felt bad, but you were greedy. The more time around him the better.

“Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t say anything stupid,” you chanted on your way up the hill.

Seeing the rectory made your stomach hurt, nerves once again getting the better of you. You stood in front of it for several minutes before you found the brave to knock on his door.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” he said.

The sunset’s warm light made him look angelic. His hair was damp, towel dried by the looks of it. He was dressed incredibly casual in a cozy, chunky sweatshirt and a pair of low hanging sweatpants. You struggled not to stare at the deep, muscular v-cut of his abs.

“You didn’t specify a time so I, uh, just left when it felt night-ish.”

“I said seven o’clock.”

He was lying. You remembered how he proposed. His wording was vague.

“No. You definitely said night.”

The warmth left his eyes, but he maintained his cheery disposition. “I don’t need you telling me what I said.”

You couldn’t imagine why he’d lie about something so benign. Maybe he did say seven and you couldn’t remember. You were pretty on edge during your conversation. It would make sense that your recollection would be tenuous.

You stared at your feet. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he let you inside.

The rectory was sparsely decorated. You would never expect a man of God to have lavish material possessions, but Father Sangwoo’s home was barren. There was nothing on the walls except for a wooden crucifix over what you assumed was the door to his bedroom.

It smelled fetid, absolutely reeking of cigarettes. The walls were stained a nauseating yellow. Everything looked worn. You wondered if maybe the furniture was handed down from the previous priest. You tried to not let it phase you, but you couldn’t help but be alarmed by the chef’s knife stabbed into his dining room table. It was sticking straight up, erect in its posture.

“Take a seat.”

His couch sat low to the ground and was woefully uncomfortable. There were cigarette burns in the cushions which you willed yourself to ignore. In front of it was a round wooden table with a dying succulent in the middle.

He took a seat beside you, his body broaching your personal space. “So,” he said. “What’s bothering you?”

“Um. Where do I begin…”

“I don’t know. Maybe the beginning.”

His tone was still sweet, but there was a bite to it. He was probably just trying to be funny, but you didn’t feel familiar enough with him to joke around like that.

“I’ve never felt as close to God as I should.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know.” You paused; you couldn’t remember any of the things you had rehearsed earlier. “I’ve never felt good enough. I feel… unworthy. I want to be closer to God, but I don’t deserve it.”

He frowned. “What makes you think you don’t deserve it?”

Your palms were clammy. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I—uh. It’s like… I just—”

“You need to loosen up,” he interrupted.

You felt ashamed for being so uptight. He looked so bored by you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he sighed as he got up.

Your heart was in your throat as he walked past the knife. For a brief moment you had the clearest image of him grabbing it and lunging at you. You felt so guilty when he left it alone.

He came back with two shot glasses and a sizable bottle of soju. He lazily shook the bottle before cracking it open.

“Grab a glass.”

You looked at the shot glasses on the table. One looked dustier than the other. You went to grab the cleaner looking one.

“Not that one.”

You grabbed the other glass. You looked at the bottom of the glass and saw what looked like powder.

“It looks a little dirty,” you said, holding it out.

He glanced at it. “I don’t see anything.”

“Really? It—”

“Do I look like someone that would offer a guest a dirty glass?” he laughed.

You shook your head and watched him fill it. Your cheeks felt hot.

“This is my first time,” you blurted out.

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m the perfect person to break you in.”

You laughed nervously and tried to avert his gaze. It was like having a spotlight on you. The glass felt so heavy in your hands. You weren’t sure how to wield it. You never saw your parents drink alcohol, excluding the Eucharist. There was no point of reference so you knocked it back in one gulp.

It didn’t taste nearly as bad as you were expecting. It was crisp with a faint sweetness. The finish was bitter. You felt like something had coated your mouth. You didn’t like it.

“Impressive,” he said smiling. “Have another.”

You held out your glass and watched him pour you another drink. You drank it just as fast the first time. You were pleased that aftertaste was pleasantly astringent rather than bitter. You went to set your glass down, but he poured you another drink. You didn’t want to be impolite so you accepted it.

“Aren’t you going to have any?”

“I will when you pour me some.”

You wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you said, taking the bottle from him. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Your hands trembled as you served him. It didn’t help that he was watching you so intently.

“That’s obvious.” He took a sip and set the glass down. “Now tell me why you don’t deserve to be close to God.”

“I’m a bad person. I mean, maybe I’m not. But I feel like I am. I’m jealous of everyone. And nothing makes me happy so I just never do anything… which makes me feel worse. I don’t know. I feel like I’m bad at loving God and cherishing his gifts no matter how hard I try. And—this is so ridiculous—but If I can’t be the best at it, why even bother?”

“That is ridiculous,” he said, pouring you another shot.

“I know. I know. And that’s why I never wa—wanna talk about it. It’s so stupid. It’s not a competition. I tell myself that all the time, but it doesn’t stop me from comparing myself to others. It makes me wanna give up. But I’d feel so lost without the church and the world is so… overwhelming. I get swept up in the temptations. I’m not strong enough. Not strong enough to leave. Not strong enough to survive. I’m stuck.”

“Temptations? Like what exactly?”

You swallowed hard. “Uh. Um. You know… people.”

He poured you another shot. You drank it down happily, but noticed he still hadn’t finished his.

“They’re…” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “I get urges.”

He smirked. “Everyone has those.”

“Do you?”

“I said everyone, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks were on fire. You wanted to bury your face in your hands, but your arms were too heavy.

“What do you do about these urges?” he asked.

“Father, I’m not sure we should talk about that.”

“I can’t help you if you keep things for me.”

“… I don’t act on them. I wanna wait until I’m married. But… sometimes at night I…I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”

He leaned in. “You touch yourself, don’t you?”

You started feeling woozy. “I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t know what else I’m su—supposed to do.”

“You can always find someone else to do it for you.”

“Isn’t that even worse?” you slurred.

“It depends on the person.”

He put his hand on your thigh. Your head was swimming. Your body felt heavier by the second. It was like you were slowly descending into an abyss. He slipped his hand under your dress. You closed your thighs and cursed the wet spot blossoming between your legs. You didn’t want this. Fantasizing was one thing. Living them out was terrifying. If you fooled around with a priest, you would burn in Hell for eternity.

You tried to brush his hand away. “Don’t.”

“Shssh. Let me help you.”

He lifted up your dress and opened your thighs. You winced as he rubbed the wet patch on your underwear.

“I’m serious. Stop.”

“Don’t be a tease.”

“We’re not allow—”

“Who fucking cares,” he cooed as he forced his hand under your underwear. “Just relax.”

“Father, please.”

He spread apart your folds and slipped his fingers inside you.

“I can’t,” you whimpered, your body tensing up.

He ignored you and rubbed your clit. You hated how good it felt. It made the pain of having his fingers inside you a little bearable, but still the inherent wrongness of it all weighed on you. You tried to keep quiet, but a breathy moan fell from your lips as he applied more pressure.

“Who would you imagine touching you?”

“I don—I don’t wanna say…'' you drawled.

You were losing your grip.

“Quit being a bitch and tell me,” he demanded as he fingered you.

He curled his fingers inside you, grinning as you gasped.

“You.”

He smirked. “Aw. This must be a dream come true then.”

Your body was getting limper by the second. Staying conscious was barely possible. You writhed against the couch as he thrust his fingers deep inside you. You arched your back and rolled your hips against them. You wondered if this was God punishing you for not being devout.

“Look at how easily you’re falling apart.”

You cursed your body for betraying you.

“Don’t. Please,” you begged.

“You think you get to act like a slut and tell me no?”

Tears trickled from the corners of your eyes. You felt like an idiot for crying.

“I’m… I’m s—so sorry, Father.”

“It’s okay.” He wiped away one of your tears. “I forgive you for tempting me.”

He was knuckles deep in your cunt and showed your clit no mercy.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you moaned.

He smirked and pulled you into a kiss. His mouth tasted like cigarettes. You thought about pulling away, but things weren’t so bad now that he couldn’t berate you. It was kind of nice actually. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on his chest. He bit down on your bottom lip before brushing his tongue along the tender skin. You opened your mouth and rolled your tongue against his. You had no idea what you were doing and prayed you were doing a good job.

“Father,” you whimpered. “I don’t feel so good.”

You felt yourself losing consciousness. You could barely keep your eyes open.

“You’re fine,” he said, pressing his lips to your neck. “It’s okay.”

You tried to speak, but all you could do was groan. He sunk his teeth into your neck and you drifted away.

A stinging pain roused you from your daze. You didn’t know where you were or how you ended up there. You could barely open your eyes; it was as if they were glued shut. It was such a simple act, but for some reason it was a herculean effort. Your body felt like lead and your head was throbbing.

You felt a cool breeze against your skin, stronger than a fan or air conditioning. You fought to lift your head, but all you managed to do was roll it slightly to the side, your chin pressing against your chest. You groaned and tried to will yourself out of your haze.

God must have taken pity on you because like clockwork your eyes sprung open. Unfortunately what roused you was the sting of something penetrating your ribs. It was the kind of pain that came on sharp and fast, and radiated through your body.

You groaned and tried to focus. The world was a blur, the light blinding. You were freezing and sore. You tried to swat away whatever had penetrated you, but your arms were bent back and tied at the wrists. All you could do was writhe.

You looked down and saw your body, unclothed and bruised. You choked on your breath when you noticed two wooden arrows jutting out of your thigh. Your stomach was in your throat. You could barely shriek as another arrow whizzed past your ear.

“Whoops.” It was a low voice, eerily familiar. “Don’t move around so much.”

The saccharine tone made you sick. Spit pooled in your mouth. You finally found the strength to lift your head. Your eyes met his. You recognized him. No, you knew him.

“Good morning,” Father Sangwoo said, shooting another arrow at you. It pierced the soft skin of your underarm.

“STOP!” you screamed. “What are you doing?!”

Stomach acid inched up the back of your throat.

He smiled. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You spat at the ground before shaking your head. You couldn’t make sense of anything. The muscles in your shoulders felt like they were on fire. You must’ve been tied up for hours.

You turned your head to the right and saw a dense forest of red pines.

You inhaled sharply. “Why ar—”

He sighed and set his bow down gently. His looming figure made his way over, dread pooling in your stomach. His steps were slow and deliberate. His lips curled into a smirk. He grabbed you by the hair and forced you to look at him.

“Why all the dumb questions?”

“M—my rib—”

He glanced at the arrow sticking out of your ribs. “What about them?”

“Hurts,” you choked out through gritted teeth.

“C’mon. It didn’t even go in that deep.”

He yanked it out. A stream of warm blood flowed from the wound. All you could do was shriek.

“Yell all you want,” he said, licking your blood off the tip. “It’s not like anyone’s around to hear you.”

You decided to take a chance and kept screaming. Your voice cracked as you called out for help. At first he seemed amused, but his expression soon changed to one of disgust and boredom.

“Are you done? Did you get it out of your system?”

You let out one last anguished cry before settling down. Your throat ached.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset. You agreed to this last night.”

You sniffled. “I would never agree to something like this.”

He laughed. “Oh, really? You told me I could while I was filling your ass with my cum. Or at least I think you did. You were saying a lot of weird shit.”

“You’re lying!”

“So what if I am? It’s not like me telling the truth is going to help you.”

His cock was hard, fighting against the cloth of his sweatpants. You started to sob.

“Please just let me go.”

“Why would I do that? You’re my little crybaby.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I won’t say anything,” you pleaded.

You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth. You desperately tried to ignore the searing pain of the arrows.

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m not letting you go.”

You fought against the rope tying you to the tree. You wanted to kick his teeth in. Your fear had mutated into a fury like no other.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“Alright. I’ll let you go.”

He quickly untied your arms. The relief was immense. You could have sworn angels were singing as your shoulders finally relaxed. As you sunk down into the ground he pulled out his erect cock.

“But you gotta suck me off first.”

You immediately opened your mouth. You’d do anything to get out of there.

“Good girl,” he said, stroking his shaft.

It was long and veiny, the slit dripping precum. He guided it into your mouth, groaning as you struggled to take it in. Tears ran down your cheeks and you choked.

“Breathe through your nose.”

You heeded his advice and it helped a little. You were too weak to bob your head so he held the base of your skull and gently thrusted against it. Anytime his cock slipped down your throat you gagged. He looked so smug as he stared down at you, grinning as you struggled to suck.

“You’re so pathetic,” he said as he rutted against your face. “You’re lucky you’re cute or else it’d be annoying.”

You whimpered.

“Is it too much for you?”

He pushed you off of his cock. A thin string of drool clung to it, connecting your mouth to his tip.

“Mhm,” you answered feebly.

“Really? Do you wanna stop?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re rejecting me? That doesn’t make me feel good considering I listened to you bitch about your life last night. You should be kinder to your host. Didn’t your family teach you any manners?”

“I—But you said you were going to help—”

He laughed. “What is it with you and telling me what I said? You keep doing that and I’m gonna have to bash your skull in.”

Your eyes were so wide you thought they were going to fall out of your head. You refused to believe this was happening. You pretended like you were anywhere else. You tried to ignore the cold breeze pricking your skin, the blood drying on your body, how exposed you felt, and most of all you tried to ignore Father Sangwoo.

“Don’t look so scared.”

You shut your eyes and thought about your warm bed. Your cat was probably curled up at the foot of it, waiting for you to come home and feed him. All it did was make you cry harder. You should have kissed his little forehead before you left. But you were in such a rush, too eager to meet up with the Devil himself.

“Hey.” He kicked you with his bare foot. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you.”

“What?” you sniffled.

“You look terrified. You should smile.”

Your expression didn’t change.

“Do you wanna live?”

You nodded.

“Then smile!” he cheered.

You grimaced.

“Perfect,” he said as he jerked off.

You sat there, grinning like an idiot and trying to ignore the immense pain you were in. He looked down at you with a predator’s gaze, teeth biting into his bottom lip. His breathing grew shallow and he tossed his head back as his cum splattered against your face.

“Do you feel blessed?” You didn’t, so you chose not to answer and kept smiling. He kicked you again. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good girl,” he said. “You look cold. I think you’ve earned going inside.”

He took his time pulling the arrows out of you, talking about how badly he wanted to fill your wounds with his cum. He assured you he was kidding, but gave you absolutely no reason to believe him. How could trust someone so duplicitous?

He carried you like a bride through the red pines. He did it with such ease; it made your heart flutter. You were still terrified, but you clung to him. You imagined you were in the arms of someone else, someone that wouldn’t call you names and maim you.

“How much further?” you asked. The forest seemed to have no end.

“I wouldn’t be in a rush if I were you.”

“I’m ju—just really cold.”

He kissed your cheek and assured you it wouldn’t be much longer.

When you reached the grounds, he went in the opposite direction of the rectory.

“Why—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The church wasn’t much warmer than outside. You actually felt less comfortable. You knew you were going to Hell. There was no escaping your fate at this point. You buried your face in his neck.

He laid you down on the altar. A clear plastic tarp was draped over it. It stuck to your grimy, bloody skin. You attempted to cover your chest with your aching arms.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to be modest now,” he said as he got undressed. “I’ve already seen everything.”

“Not in here,” you said weakly.

He rolled his eyes and spread apart your legs. He positioned himself between them and ran his tongue down your folds. Your toes curled as he kissed your clit. His gaze never left yours. He took in every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. You found yourself enjoying the bliss of his kiss and the pain radiating from your wounds.

“Father,” you mewled as you ran your fingers through his hair.

It was so soft. You twirled a strand between your fingers as he feasted on your dripping cunt. You rolled your hips against his face, surrendering yourself to euphoria. He kissed the inside of your thigh before biting into your tender flesh. You winced as he applied more and more pressure. His teeth broke through your skin. You tried to push him away, but you were too weak.

The pain was indescribable. You would have rather he shot you with more arrows. His teeth dug further into your thigh and he pulled away with your flesh between his teeth. Blood poured from the newfound wound.

You watched in horror as he swallowed. You looked at your thigh and shrieked when you saw the chunk he took out of you.

“What?” he asked as he lapped at the blood spilling out.

You tried to get up but he held you in place.

“Please stop! I’ll do anything!”

He ignored you and bit down on another part of your thigh.

“Just let me go! I won’t say anything! You’ll never see me again! I’ll leave you alone! I promise! I swear to God!”

He ripped off another piece of flesh. Your blood covered the bottom half of his face. He looked like a wild animal. He crawled back on top of you, his face unbearably close to yours.

“You should be honored,” he cooed.

You tried to wriggle away from him, but he was too strong.

“I usually don’t do this, but fuck. You’re so pure. I need you to be a part of me.”

All you could do was weep.

“Hush. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” he consoled as he forced his cock inside you. “Jesus Christ, you’re so tight.”

He began to thrust. He clenched his jaw and rutted against your limp body. You watched as his cheeks turned pink and his brows knitted together in rapturous agony.

“I couldn’t throw you away like the others. You’re such a precious, little thing.” He kissed you. “I needed more time with you. I thought about snapping your neck last night, but that would’ve been such a waste. You deserve better.”

You felt so small underneath him.

“Fuck! If I could keep you I would, but that’d be too complicated.”

“So yo—you’ll let me go?”

“Huh?” He moaned as his cock hit your cervix.

“After this… you’ll let me go home?”

He burst out into laughter. “What? Are you a fucking idiot? Of course I’m not letting you go home.”

“Then please keep me! I won’t cause you any problems! I won’t say anything to anyone! I’ll do whatever you want! Just please don’t kill me! I don’t wanna die!”

“Wouldn’t death be better than being miserable all the time?” he asked, stroking your cheek. “Think about it. It would solve all your problems.”

“No, it wouldn’t! I don’t wanna give up. Please just let me live.”

“I’ve already made up my mind. I’m sorry,” he said. “It’ll be okay. Your death won’t be in vain or anything.” He picked up the pace. It felt like his cock was going to split you in two. “I promise I’ll put your body to good use.”

“Father—”

“Shut up,” he said, covering your mouth. “I’m gonna come.”

He filled your cunt to the brim with his cum. He held your body close to him and pressed his forehead against yours. You lost all hope. There was no escape. You had completely resigned yourself to your fate. All you could do was hope his hand would be swift, and you wouldn’t suffer much.

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