#but instead i’m just. what if i fail. (again). and i’m already 25. and what if i fail and i’m alone. what if this doesn’t help at all

[hoot-h00t]

girl HELP

[latenightdaydreams]

Divorced!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, divorced couple, fingering, oral, p in v, light angst/fluff

1.8k word count

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After a failed marriage, you ended up with a 75/25 custody agreement with König; you getting your son 75% of the time. In the two years since the divorce, communication with König has been next to nothing. He asks you to communicate through lawyers and you agree, not wanting to deal with his childish rage. Every drop off has been done with you and his assistant. He’s found any way to ice you out.

This weekend is his, but you already informed his people of a trip your mother paid for all her grandchildren. König agreed to let him go and just take the next weekend. That’s why it's so surprising when your doorbell rings late Friday night.

Dressed in baggy shirt and biker shorts, you walk from the kitchen with a glass of wine in your hand. When you poke your head out the window to see who it is, you notice König’s Audi outside. Why is he here?

You open the door to be greeted by his intense gaze, his pale eyes locking onto yours. He’s wearing an expensive black on black outfit with a freshly shaved face. A small smile on his thin scarred lips. Different from his typical military uniform and stoic expression.

“Hello?”

“Hallo, Schatz.” His eyes drift up and down your body, appreciating your cute loungewear.

“What are you doing here?” You ask confused, his wandering eyes causing you to feel self-conscious.

“I’m here for Elisa.”

“I told you he’s gone with my family. Remember, you agreed for next weekend instead?”

“Ah.” König says, looking around, not moving. “May I come in?”

“Uh—I guess, yeah.”

You step aside to let him in. König walks in and sees the place he paid for in the divorce for the first time. It smells like you, home, and it’s comforting. You close the door and walk to him awkwardly, not knowing what to say. The surrounding air both feels thick and it’s uncomfortable.

“The place looks nice; homey.” He says, combing his fingers through his short hair.

“Thank you. And thank you for helping me with it—”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what a man is supposed to do for the mother of his child.” He says, trying to act manly, but in all honesty it’s because he never stopped loving you. The dead air makes things more awkward before he speaks up again. “Cheap red?” He gestures to the glass of wine still in your hand.

“Yeah, my favorite.” You laugh softly and take another sip.

“May I have a glass?” His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, nervous of your rejection.

“Sure, yeah.”

König follows you close behind as you walk to the kitchen, silently cursing the baggy shirt you’re wearing for making it harder to check you out. There is light stubble covering your legs, making him smile; recalling what it felt like rubbing your legs late at night before bed. His eyes observe you as you open the bottle of wine and carefully pour it out. He can tell that he’s making you nervous and hopes it’s because you still feel butterflies with him.

You step forward and hand the glass to König, his large fingers graze your own causing his stomach to do a flip. His eyes lock with yours as you lean back against the counter. He brings the glass to his lips taking a small sip of the overly sweet cheap wine.

“Danke.”

“Yup.” You pour yourself more wine as you run through all the possibilities of what he might be here to talk about. Is he stopping spousal support? Asking for more days with Elias? Is he getting married? You turn to König once more. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been…well.” He takes a small sip of wine breaking eye contact. “You?”

“Same.”

“That’s good.” The same painful silence plagues the air. “The place looks nice.” He repeats himself.

“You said that already.” His eyes snap to yours.  “So why are you really here?”

“I- I.” He looks around the room trying to think of an excuse, he forgot his original one. “I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Why? We haven’t talked in…years.”

König’s face turns a light shade of pink as he feels the heavy guilt of just cutting you out. In all reality, when you filed for divorce, it shattered his heart. The only way he could move on is if he pretended you never existed, but that hasn’t worked.

“I’m sorry about that. I always just wonder how you are, so I decided to show up.”

“Why not call? Email?” You put your glass down on the countertop behind you. “That’s what a normal person would do. Why are you really here?”

“I’ve missed you.” His voice comes out in a broken whisper before clearing his throat.

König looks down at you with the softest puppy eyes, waiting for you to respond. He knows that his neglect in the marriage is what led to its downfall so he doesn’t have much room to ask anything of you. His ego was too big of him to ask you for a second chance then, but these years without you have proved he can’t do it.

“What?” You snap.

“I said—”

“No, I heard you. Why would I care? Did you get dumped?”

“I never had a girlfriend.”

You look at him for a moment before snapping again, bringing up every moment that you can think of when you asked him to work on the relationship. Reminding him that he is the one that cut all communication between the both of you. He has been the one to give up and leave so easily while you drowned in life alone.

König didn’t dare defend himself or interrupt you. Everything you’re saying is completely correct. He just stands with slumped shoulders and a face full of regret. His eyes drift to your lips as you speak, noticing the way your soft lips pout as your words grow more emotional. With each second that passes, he gradually approaches, one small step at a time until he ends up just inches away from you. His free hand reaches out and cups the side of your face. Without another word, König leans in and kisses you.

A rush of powerful emotions comes flooding back to you. Just feeling his lips against yours once more was enough to melt you. Your lips press back against his as your hand grabs the glass from his hand and sets it down.

König wraps his arms around your waist and hoist you up on to the counter. His tongue presses past your lips, tasting your sweet tongue as he swirls his around yours. The kiss only briefly broken as he pulls your shirt off, tossing it onto the kitchen floor as he looks down at your braless breasts; just as perfect as they were last time he saw them.

König’s lips meet your once more while his hands move up to cup your breasts. He twirls your nipples between his fingers, leaving a trail of wet kissing down your side of your neck to your breast. In slow motions König flicking his tongue over your nipples. His rock-hard cock twitches in his pants.

“König, maybe we shouldn’t.”

“I need you, please.”

His fingers trace over the elastic in your shorts, pulling them off when he feels you lift your hips. A soft hum leaves his lips when he sees the floral-patterned underwear concealing what he craves the most right now. He wraps his hands around your hips, pulling you closer to him as he drops to his knees in front of you.

The warmth radiates between your legs, he craves it. His lips press against the cotton fabric, taking a deep breath in to savor your scent. He kisses hungrily, feeling the small wet spot growing on the fabric. With two fingers he slips underneath the fabric of his panties and touch your folds. His eyes meet you as he slips them into you, studying the expression of pleasure riddled across your face.

You drop your head back, resting on the cabinets behind you. Soft moans leave your lips as his thick fingers curl up pressing against your g-spot. His teeth pull your underwear to the slide more, slipping his tongue up and down your glistening folds. Your fingers find their way combing through his short hair.

The loud desperate moans leaving you only encourage him. This feels like when you were both younger and spontaneous, before König pushed you aside for work. He feels your sweet arousal begin to drip down from his fingers to his palm, your pussy white and creamy. His name leaves your lips like fire as you orgasm. Once your body stops trembling, he slowly withdraws his fingers from you. With his tongue flat, he licks the thick cream off your thighs and from between your cheeks, making sure he cleans you up.

Your eyes meet him as he stands up, rushing to undo his pants. His cock springs free as his pants fall, he pulls his shirt over his head to discard along with the rest. The look in your eyes is dreamy, full of lust of love.

König leans in and kisses your forehead as he lines himself up between your thighs. It’s been so long since he’s had sex, the fact it’s you he has again feel so unreal to him. He will never throw away the privilege of having your body ever again. You’re so beautiful, every inch.

As his cock slips in your jaw drops, a stuck moan lingers until finally he presses in completely. His forehead is presses against yours as his eyes close, letting the warmth consume him. One arm snakes underneath your thigh and pulls you forward more.

His broad hips snap against yours, a mixed melody of you both moaning fills their space in the kitchen. Your feel his hot breath brush across your face, he looks down at you through half lidded eyes. The silky walls of your cunt hug his cock so perfectly, he’s forgotten just how tight you are.

“You feel so fucking good.” His voice is almost a whimper. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, y/n.”

Your hands caress his jawline, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. König responds by thrusting harder into you. The sound of your creamy cunt and feeling of your soft lips push his body to the point of no return. His hips slow to attempt to prolong the pleasure, but he can’t. His cock throbs deep inside of you, cum slowly dripping out when he pulls slightly.

The both of you try to catch your breath, his hands not leaving you as he squeezes you tightly as if he’s scared to let go. König gently lifts you from the counter and walks to the couch. With gentle hands he rests you back against the soft fabric. Still not pulling out, he climbs on top of you and hugs you to his body. He hopes that this is a sign of reconciliation.

[thedeaddrawsblog]

Okay can we talk about something for a moment???

(Warning: Spoilers for the new Thundermans movie)

The Thundermans have a LOT of things they introduced into the series but never touched in again.

…

So I made a list of things I want them to revive or at least expand on-

- Billy and Nora (or even Chloe) getting their thunder sense. They only mentioned it in season 1 episode 13, and literally never talked about it again (from what I remember.) I want to see them expand on, use it in battle, and more importantly, I want to know if it’s just a Thunderman trait or if other heroes have that trait. Do villains have that trait? After all, they did reveal in the movie that superheroes and villains get their powers from a plant.

- speaking of the plant, is there multiple plants? Why was the thunderman family chose to keep it safe? How many generations ago did people get powers? Why those people? What created the plant?

- also I’m just saying it now, I need Max and Phoebe to hang out with Billy and Nora. Like we barely see them interacting. I’d literally do ANYTHING for an episode of Max and Nora hanging out, Phoebe and Billy hanging out, vise versa… I know there was like one episode in the series, but that’s only one and Max was being a dick.

- I NEED to see an episode of what it would be like if Max did take over the world. Like how he did it. Did he become a superhero to get a bunch of secrets and feed them to Dark Mayhem? Or maybe it’s just an alternative au when Phoebe failed to turn him, and said the original uncut scene instead, where she asked him if he’d rather be a hero or a villain. Obviously we wouldn’t be able to see them as teens, but maybe they could explain it in the beginning. Like maybe Colosso is telling a story. Like clue style.

- OH. SPEAKING OF CLUE, maybe a murder mystery episode??? I think that would be awesome. Kinda like the blue bean episode where max turned blue. But like. ✨murder✨

- So… I can’t be the only one that wants at least a little queer rep, right…? And I’m not the only one who thinks Max is a little… fruity… (as long as Jack Griffo is okay with it) give him a boyfriend or something PLEASE 😭

- Because Max and Phoebe are I think like… 25…. I’d like to see them attempt being adults. Key word: attempt. (basically I just to see them get an apartment and what not, and obviously the Thundermans are sad, and their siblings find it hard not having their older siblings in the house.

- And I think maybe even Chloe not knowing much about cousin Blobbin, their pop-pop, or grandma (I forgot what they called her) would be interesting as well.

- also what happened to Blobbin???

- anyway

- I’m just kinda writing stuff out

- I think they were already thinking about expanding on it, but since several of the Thundermans friends +Wong have powers, I’d like to see how they deal with keeping it a secret or if they somehow get the powers removed. Like maybe they use that ball thing they used to trap Dark Mayhems powers. OH. WHAT IF THEY ACCIDENTALLY GAVE THEM MAYHEMS POWERS IN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO TAKE THEIR POWERS?!

- Okay this kinda goes into Phoebe and Max becoming adults, but I wanna know if they went to college or if they are going to college.

- also, Max talks about having Evilgram in one episode (maybe a couple), and I’m curious if he kinda just forgot about it or deleted it. He probably deleted it, but I think it would be cool seeing Max find Evilgram on his old phone and miss that phase of his life. Maybe that could even tie in with an evil Max episode.

- ALSO I WANT TO SEE MAX USING HIS GADGETS IN BATTLE. HE SPENT SO MUCH TIME MAKING THEM IT’S UNFAIR IF HE CANT USE THEM.

I’m probably missing a lot of small moments but honestly I’m just going back and rewatching some of the episodes and I’ve been kinda jumping around so i do t remember all of them-

Anyhow I think it’s awesome that the Thundermans are coming back to life (that is if the movie gets good reviews. PLEASE LIE AND SAY IT WAS GOOD EVEN THOUGH THE CGI WAS CRAP. THE PLOT WAS ACTUALLY GOOD.)

[thatanimewriter]

DRAINED.

➳ request: hello <3 can I please ask for soma, akira, erina and ryo making their s/o cry on accident?

➳ character/s: yukihira soma, hayama akira, nakiri erina, kurokiba ryou

➳ warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort

➳ notes: ooft ok here we go! food wars characters bein accidental ASSHOLES. this is lengthy, apologies :))

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  

── 𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐀.  

4/10 on the most likely to make you cry scale

he didn’t mean to snap at you

he was just super stressed

and he was going through it with him nearly being expelled

because central vs rebels isn’t an easy feat

and he knew you were only trying to help :((

you could already feel the tension walking into the kitchen

but you figured he could do with some help

even if it was just some small guidance

instead, you seemed to have soured his mood even further

because as you asked if he needed any help, he said

“i don’t need help from someone who couldn’t beat one of the elite 10. how would you be any help now that everyone’s expulsion is on the line?”

you averted your gaze to the ground at his call out, but tried again anyway

“it was just an offer...”

“i can do it. close the door on your way out, by the way.”

“right, of course.”

soma didn’t miss the strain in your voice, which alarmed him as he turned around just as you shut the door behind you

a soft pout came across his lips at the thought of upsetting you, but it only gave him more motivation to win

cause then he could save you from expulsion and apologise to you properly

even if he’d upset you, he did find your presence helpful

because now he knew what to cook against central

when he got to the arena, his determination grew tenfold

because seeing you sitting on the floor in that stupid fucking cage with your knees tucked under your chin really pissed him off

why are YOU his ONE AND ONLY in a CAGE??

you weren’t paying attention to the match, really

you quite enjoyed your spot in the corner of the cage

but soma had other plans

when you were released from the cage by the end of the day, you found yourself presented with a serving of your favourite food

and a very pouty soma with his own serving

“i’m sorry for making you cry, that was really shitty of me to be a dick to you. please forgive me, i can’t sleep at night. i need you to cuddle ;v;”

taking the food from him, you took a bite and a smile graced your lips

just the way you liked it

“can we finish this back on the train? i just want to cuddle in bed with food and talk...”

“YES WE CAN-”

pretty much launched towards you to give you a kiss and a hug

a clingy boi

won’t let you go for anything

if you need to pee, you can wait

or he’ll be super whiny about you leaving him

hogs you for like, a week

no one can contact you without him hovering over you

you wouldn’t be surprised if he starts hissing at people when they come near

── 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐀.  

8/10 on the most likely to make you cry scale

probably happened during his super angsty phase

he made it to the elite 10

he’s got longer hair now

that stupid fur jacket

and an annoying hyper fixation on beating soma

he’d barely made time for you the past few weeks

and you thought that maybe you could spend some time together

it had been ages since you last did spend some quality time together

when you knocked on the door, he swung it open very hastily

and that look of disdain he’d been giving everyone else was now turned on you

“what do you want?”

he didn’t notice the sharp inhale you took at his bluntness, but either way, you weren’t sure if that would’ve changed his answer

“to spend time with my boyfriend? it’s been weeks.”

“i don’t have time for trivial things like this, come back when it’s something worthwhile.”

your vision filled with tears as you hugged yourself and looked to the floor

“alright then. good night.”

to be honest, he probably didn’t acknowledge the slight tinge of guilt when you trudged away

but then SOMA HEARD ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED

and was very much ready to knock hayama down a peg :))

as well as jun after hayama and soma’s shokugeki

he very quickly realised what he actually said to you that night you tried to see him

and he swears he’s never run so fast in his life to find you

jun and soma know where you are, but they’re not gonna tell him-

when he found you, he nearly had a heart attack

you are out in the snow without a coat >:((

so here he comes

draping his stupid fur lined coat over your shoulders

and then hugging you from behind

“sorry for neglecting you these past few weeks, i should’ve made time for you, even if it was one night.”

“so, are you done being a little edge lord?”

“please never call it that again, but yes.”

turning around in his embrace, your returned it, chuckling to yourself when you heard his thumping heart

when you mentioned it, he pulled you tighter

at this point, after so long without you, he’d deal with the teasing

he just needs affection and he needs it now

if you don’t already

you smell of cinnamon

very strongly

and all his clothes are taken

because he wants them to smell like you so he keeps giving them to you

but because he’s been cuddling up to you it’s pretty counter productive

──  𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀.

7/10 on the most likely to make you cry scale

she’s not over her god tongue complex just yet

she’s trying ;v;

and normally you wouldn’t be that down about someone criticising your cooking

but it is erina

and she’s very picky

the thing that tipped you off to be upset is that you’d spent a week working on this dish

and it felt like all your efforts were wasted

because you seemingly couldn’t please erina either way

you were already nervous for her verdict

and rightfully so

“it’s... interesting.”

your lips pressed into a tight line at her unimpressed response, you could tell she was trying to soften the blow, but it didn’t help.

“you can just say it’s bad.”

“it’s not that it’s bad, it’s just... not the best you’ve made.”

you’ve never wanted to rip your eyes out more

“yeah, cause how could i ever compare to the god tongue?”

erina never got a chance to respond, as you’d already barged out the door

she was left with the dish you made

and instead of running after you, she took another bite

her training from her dad had really affected her ability to taste food for how it was

so, trying her best, she tried it again

ignoring her god tongue

she was curious though

could she make it as well as you?

probably not, because she wasn’t going to leave you upset for an entire fucking week

but she would try her best in such a short time span while you cooled down

and guess what?

she failed

there was something about the way you made it that wasn’t just the time taken to make it

gently knocking on your door, she poked her head in

you’re wrapped in blankets in the dark, scrolling on your phone

“hey... do you mind sharing the recipe from today, darling?”

“thought it wasn’t that good?”

erina pulled the blankets away from your face with an apologetic smile

“i’m sorry, i’m not past my god tongue days... i tried it again after you left and i actually think it was really special considering you spent so long on it.”

you gave her a look before sighing, rubbing your eyes as you sat up

“i can show you how to make it instead?”

erina is so cute, she grins very sweetly and nods enthusiastically

but for now

she’s stuck with you

she’s not complaining about cuddles though

── 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐁𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔.

10/10 on the most likely to make you cry scale

aggressive 25/8

and he’s not very in tune to people’s emotions

though you’d think maybe he’d be a little more aware of yours

but it seems not on this particular day

which you learnt the hard way

all you did was come into his room to ask if he’d eaten yet

which he yelled at you for

because he’s in the middle of working out and he’s been interrupted about thirty times in the past hour by alice

standing tall with a particularly intense glare, he turned to you

who was just standing by the door

“unless alice is dying, i don’t care for what you have to say right now.”

you frowned at his response

“so, alice is more important than your partner?”

“yep.”

“why don’t you just date her, then?”

ryou would’ve gotten angrier if he hadn’t caught your tear-filled eyes

and also the fact that you’d already left

to blow off steam, he continued his work out session

but he very quickly found that your upset form was burnt into his memory

and he’s pretty bad at hiding feelings, so alice caught on fast

“what’s up with you? you’re all depressed looking.”

ryou grumbled at her nosiness, and said nothing because he’s stubborn

“where’s [name]? they’ll cheer you up.”

at his silence, she asked him a question he didn’t really wanna think about

“did you guys break up or something? have they finally had enough of your asshole-ery?”

he frowned at her suggestion, not liking the idea of being apart from you for too long, even if he acted like he wasn’t that bothered

“DID YOU BREAK UP??”

“no, but i might’ve upset them... they were crying last time i saw them.”

“wha- YES YOU UPSET THEM >:((”

she brought him to you

and by brought, i mean dragged

and then demanded he apologise to you when he stood outside your dorm room before ditching him to deal with the mess he caused

he knocked on your door and called for you in possibly the softest voice you’d ever heard

you only opened the door because of that and you nearly laughed at how awkward he looked

“do you mind if i come in?”

when you opened the door, he immediately scoops you up into his arms

doesn’t let you protest it

“...sorry.”

it’s not the best, but you’ll cope for now

he owes you a lot though >:((

it’s ok, he’s willing to make it up to you, he’s a secret softie, even if he can’t admit it

[ontheshroom]

Ceo jack, Sucking off jack under the table when he’s in a virtual meeting

Smutmas day 1: On Mute

Jack Harlow x fem!reader

Smut

A/n: for the next 25 days I’m doing smut requests for Jack Harlow, Urban wyatt, and Rafe Cameron!🤍

******************************

Working from home wasn’t enjoyable for Jack until he began seeing you. Although his time off was meant to be just that, he could handle the one meeting out of the day if it meant he could peer from the top of the laptop screen and see you moving around his home.

He watches as you grab a cup from the kitchen cabinet, his shirt just barely exposing the crease of your ass as you reach for it. He could already feel his dick threatening to push against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Right, Jim. But as I said, I’m not interested in that offer.” He tells one of his partners.

“Jack, it couldn’t do anything besides benefiting us.” Jim sighs.

“It’ll benefit us for the next three years and then drag us into a shit hole once we realize that the business we’re trying to buy is failing,” Jack explains.

You quietly fill your cup with water before sitting in front of Jack. The makeup you’d been wearing the previous night is smudged under your eyes. If you’d look in the mirror you might describe yourself as a mess, but to Jack, you looked even more irresistible. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the story behind how your makeup changed.

Your nipples create little tents in his shirt, driving him to want to touch them and admire them as your face softens in pleasure.

At this point Jack is sure all the blood in his body has rushed to his dick.

The things Jim is explaining are blurred and incoherent, he’s only thinking of more ways to ruin you.

Jack never thought that when the awkward nervous girl walked into his office a few months ago he’d end up being so spent over her, but now he’s wishing he was the cup you keep wrapping your lips around, even more, he wishes he was the water you were swallowing.

In a swift movement, Jack is muting his computer.

“Y/n.” He says, his voice dripping in arousal.

“Yes?” You hum, the teasing tone of your voice not going unnoticed by him.

“I want you under this table, sucking my dick until tears fall from your eyes,” Jack says, a smirk forming on his lips as your digest his words.

He expects you to argue, maybe to even deny the thought altogether, but instead, you nod and fall beneath the table.

The next thing he knows he feels you pulling down his sweatpants, your fingers dancing around his thighs.

“Your mouth, y/n.” He sighs.

“And be quiet, I’m taking myself off mute.” He smiles, knowing the thought of being caught now have you clenching your thighs together.

Jack takes himself off mute but is barely able to keep his eyes from shutting as you lightly suck on his tip. The swirls of your tongue threaten a breathy moan to fall from his lips. You gather up enough spit to lube him up enough to stroke whatever can’t fit in your mouth with your hand.

“Jack? What are your thoughts?” Mike, a coworker of Jack, inquires.

“I’m sorry, the connection must’ve been out. What do you need my thoughts on?” Jack asks, nearly breaking his speaking stride as you swallow more of him.

“What if we buy and flip the company?” Mike asks.

“Why would we buy a million-dollar company and sell it for a million dollars after we put more money into it? We’d gather no profit. This whole idea is bad and we need to trash it. Ask the Vergas family if they’d like to merge for 50% instead.” Jack shrugs.

You hum ever so lightly, not enough for it to be picked up by the mic but just enough that it sends goosebumps throughout Jack’s body.

“Call me tomorrow and let me know,” Jack says, leaving the call.

“Fuck you’re doing so good.” Jack groans, gathering as much of your hair as he could.

He just barely guides you, mostly holding your hair in dominance.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He announces.

You hum again before feeling him grow in your mouth. With only a couple more thrusts you feel his warm cum fill your mouth.

You look up at him as you swallow, even using your finger to gather what was missed and guide it back into your mouth.

“What a breakfast.” You smile.

“Now that you mention it, I think I’m hungry too.” Jack laughs, moving the table back so you could crawl from under it.

You don’t get too far from it before he has you sprawled on top of it though.

[corpsepng]

tell us all about your favorite sci-fi stories!!

!!!!! To be so honest I feel a little too under-read to talk specific stories as I’ve only recently started Reading reading again. But in this time of growing a (robust tbh) reading habit I’ve also (FINALLY) developed my taste and realized (after 25 years of life) I’m accidentally a sci-fi guy when before I was VEHEMENTLY opposed and convinced I was a staunch fantasy enjoyer lmao. So I think instead of rattling off stories I’ll describe WHAT I like the most in my sci-fi/my reading tastes (film included). AND. AND. If anyone has recs based on this let me know!

I like my sci-fi down to earth, because I have weird intrusi-qualms about secondary worlds that are supposed to make sense (fantasy gives me this reaction too now unless I change my headspace). (So far) I have found no one (the scavengers show on HBO excluded bc that impressed me) is making their alien worlds ALIEN enough for me!!! I like sci-fi that is near to home in both space and time, therefore believable. And with societies that don’t feel like archaic repeats of the past (could not even get 2 chapters into red rising). Some stuff like Dune just feels space fantasy to me. Yada yada space travel, where’s the science yk? All I see is magic. (So like the seep and annihilation and possessor, just weird enough to feel different but similar enough to feel real)

I also only like space travel if it talks about how horrific space travel is because the isolation should be the main character. The hopelessness and high stakes of failing should eclipse everything else. If they’re on a space ship I need people to die bc space should, logical, be 10 times as unfriendly as the sea. (Europa report, sunshine, that one with Sandra bullock hyperventilating for 2 hours)

And first contact!!!!!!! The three body problem, arrival, annihilation and the seep again!!! The many ways we can and might encounter and react to alien life but with very clear discussions about human nature, alien nature, and the nature of life itself. Can we really coexist? Are we really all that intelligent? What are the consequences of our hamfisted human choices? How can we ever hope to effectively communicate anything to anyone ever?????????????

And lastly. Lastly. horror. I think all sci-fi SHOULD be a little scary just like all fantasy should be a little scary. Horror is an essential element to every story regardless of genre, because fear is a cardinal human emotion. All animals know fear. SO. Take the scary out and the whole thing is defanged. I want body horror, existential horror, creature horror, isolation horror, tech horror. Alien and event horizon and I have no mouth but I must scream and annihilation (again) and three body problem (hill to die on) etcetera!!!!! The world is terrifying and science fiction is meant to examine the truth of that.

Tbh a lot of my fav HORROR has an element of sci-fi to it (ie lovecraftian work especially Caitlin Kiernan, sunshine, the genetically modified worms part of the troop, possessor!!!!!! All Time Faves) The science of horror AND the horror of science yk. We’re creating the monsters in laboratories if you will.

I’m also reading a lot of non fiction as well, but this is already too long so I’ll list my books and films in a reblog. Thank you for the excuse to write all this and PLEASE someone recommend me more books (and film)

🖤💙🦋🩵🩶🖤💙🦋🩵🩶🖤💙🦋🩵🩶

[garbagefarm]

Mutucule Farm #18

2023-06-12, session #18 of Mutucule Farm! Year 2, Summer 22 through Fall 1!

Cast:

me (@mothmute​)

Belle (@snacco​)

Cam (@amanitaspore​)

Erin (@salamand3rin​)

Highlights include, but are not limited to:

Pre-game:

getting stardewblasted, it’s been a while!

Belle emerging from her well to shame mankind

Summer 22:

Belle discusses “my husband”, or “musband”

Pompkin is in the field so he’s getting watered today

I will tell Belle why I wanted all that milk ... when we’re old and gray and I’m on grandpa’s shitty deathbed

I’m excited for Robin to show me her carpentry secrets, until she reveals it’s the drum and flute blocks; those things should stay secret

Cutscene where I’m given the (bad) choice to invite Linus to live on the farm; instead, I’m just pleased he’s doing well

TURBOCOWS

getting a big coop!

cleaned up my house a little bit so Penny can redecorate

Belle is out late talking to Clint, but I don’t know where Erin is— she “didn’t know there was a curfew” (there is no curfew)

Summer 23:

Belle gets mail calamari from Linus, and threatens to eat it in front of Pierre

Turbocows just needed more enrichment in their enclosure

Erin gets hat-surprised by my awful hat*, the worst kind of surprise (* - legally not a hat)

All of my pigs are grown! The reactor is online!

Pompkin sleeping in the kitchen? He do that sometimes.

Somebody sold a cherry bomb?? (how dare they)

Summer 24:

I wake up to a pirate themed house! (Penny takes her roleplaying too seriously)

She broke the sign with the prismatic jelly, though :(

Big coop! Increased bird capacity!

Pompkin likes the peppers

funny how the young pigs are sleek handsome lads, and then the adult pigs look like old mobsters

(Don’t investigate the pigs, you don’t wanna hurt their feelings)

Belle fills the extra hay capacity in the coop; Erin suggests it’s in case they get peckish

Cool hat party! I’m not invited :(

Slumber party! We gossip and do each other’s hair

Summer 25:

Lil Phil makes Cam crack a smile

Cam and Emily are engaged! There will be no wedding.

I really need to upgrade my axe, this one ... just isn’t cutting it.

awww yeah, three copper ore, my not-hat is paying off!

“Why grow trees in the desert instead of the quarry?” Well, where are we gonna grow our rocks?

So many truffles... I did brought this upon myself

Erin asked for a cactus and I delivered, I am so good at foraging

Erin didn’t make it to bed, RIP

(somewhere in here: comparing Sam to Bart Simpson)

Summer 26:

last night was a blur, apparently!

everybody gets oil, don’t ask what it’s for!

Birds get bird names, dinos get dino names! I don’t see what’s so hard to understand!

(somewhere in here: welcome, Utahraptor!)

Upgrading my axe...

Lewis comments on how slick the oil is......

oh hey, here’s the potato juice from when we failed to make enough for Pam!

I walk in on Dwarf and Krobus having a spat

I get an Iridium Sprinkler as a surprise for Erin but she ruins it by asking for one

(Belle can’t commit crimes if Cam is sitting down)

Summer 27:

house big!! I can have the babies!

truffle hidden behind the corn...

commissioned a fish pond; or “comfissioned", if you will

Abigail plays flute in the rain, Belle photobombs

little green guy is there in spirit; this is, actually, little green guy erasure

Emily and Haley threw out a perfectly good pufferfish

hey, five iron ore! suffering my not-a-hat is totally worth it!

Summer 28:

Five megabombs in a crate!

duck threw everything out of quack

axe is back!!

hogs are getting out of their jurisdiction

rest assured that they will be put on paid administrative leave

trash has already done been gone through!

Jelly night!! (see gallery)

Fall 1?:

There will be no wedding. (see gallery)

TO-DO:

??? idk farm stuff?

upgrade coop again?

upgrade tools?

upgrade houses?

other construction? (still need a slutch!)

full farm redesign waits ‘til winter

still gotta do bundles

Stardrops??

Gallery (courtesy of Erin):

Jelly night!!

This is a hallucination, there will be no wedding for Cam and Emily.

[valeriele3]

Note: If I accidentally put info that isn't to be known yet please tell me so I can remove it

After checking there seems to only be 3 static Twitter posts with two of them having an ALT text

One alt text is signed off by the “stigma of love” and the other is “stigma of heart”

Judging from the wording in the alt text it’s Aira that’s talking in Chapter 9 and I can I guess “confirm” that by comparing it with other chapters where Aira is always “Stigma of heart” and Kohaku is “Helter Spider” when clicking on the ALT text

I’m not sure who the “Stigma of love” is. I first thought it was Aira because of something being said like “You are love itself”. Or it could be an error where instead of “heart” “love” was typed/inserted instead

If stigma of love really isn’t Aira then maybe it’s Mayoi?

I don’t really see him as someone with the name “stigma of love” but maybe? Because I’m pretty sure Aira said he warns others when he’s coming or something but then again, Aira also said something along the lines of “you let to suffer my poor flower” in chapter 21 so does that mean that Mayoi didn’t warn MC or anyone in CH? Or did he mean that Mayoi didn’t eradicate them to not make them feel pain? Because Mayoi eradicating the world is causing pain to MC maybe that’s what Aira means by letting his flower suffer since MC always has to reset the world, try to save everyone, and then fail

Anyways, back to the static Twitter posts..

The first static post to appear was in Chapter 6 with the words “I wish I never let you go to that place why can’t I change anything..?? WHY DOES IT KEEP HAPPENING MC PLS DONT LEAVE PLS DONT DIE”

This has to be Aira right?? And the place he’s referring to is maybe the human world because that’s how MC and Kohaku met. They met when MC was falling in the sky and Aira isn’t really happy with the fact Kohaku loves MC and is trying to keep MC to himself

And now I’m wondering..What if Aira never sent Kohaku candies MC made? That means that Kohaku wouldn't know about MC right? Or maybe he will bc Aira talks about MC..

But what if..Aira never sent MC's candies or talked about MC to Kohaku? Would Kohaku still have a dream of catching someone falling from the sky a.k.a MC?

There's so many things going on in my head but at the same time nothing..

So, the oracle thingy from the old fae's is from a dream..MC has astral dreaming, Aira can use an ability of another him and MDD Aira has an ability relating to dreams which is most likely astral dreaming since he is able to control Aira from CH or like possess CH Aira's body. Then Kohaku with the power of Helter Spider can control dreams. We can see this power in effect with that dream world where Kohaku calls MC "omae" and they're married and there's Crazy:B members from different worlds.

So that's 3 people who has an ability relating with dreams..

I've already typed so much but I can't make sense of any of it..

All I know is that there's 3 main things I should focus on for now

Who is the one with the same ability a.k.a astral dreaming (I need to figure out who it is..MC, Aira, Kohaku, or maybe someone I missed?)

Figure out who exactly is talking in the static posts (Which is most likely Aira judging from the wording and the "Stigma of heart")

There's a loop

Aira and Kohaku is hot

Yeah, this whole thing doesn't make any sense at all and I uncovered no hidden truth T^T

If I want to find and understand more things I have to look and think in the characters' perspective. I need to look at things in their way

I am not a good theorist and my brain isn't working properly. It just keeps reciting the 25 elements I kinda memorized..I also lost track and started thinking about something else instead of focusing on like the static/glitched Twitter posts

Maybe I'll add or edit this in the future once my brain can finally function bc I haven't eaten anything since I woke up and its been 5 hours since then

[kuronekonerochan]

Publiquei 400 vezes em 2022

São mais 116 publicações do que em 2021!

19 publicações criadas (5%)

381 publicações reblogadas (95%)

Blogues que rebloguei mais vezes:

@insanityisfine

@scoundrels-in-love

@momo-de-avis

@kuronekonerochan

@cup-ah-jho

Marquei 302 das minhas publicações em 2022

Apenas 25% das minhas publicações não tinham marcadores

#tuga things – 35 publicações

#mood – 29 publicações

#pt stuff – 26 publicações

#cdrama – 24 publicações

#me in a nutshell – 20 publicações

#esc 2022 – 19 publicações

#kdrama – 16 publicações

#funny – 11 publicações

#capitalism – 11 publicações

#tumblr – 11 publicações

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#creatividade sobre pressão e stress intenso e só te dá pânico existencial seguido de exaustão qd acaba o turno e te sai o peso do mundo de

As minhas publicações mais populares em 2022:

N.º 5

Petition for 2022 to be the year kdramaland finally stops teasing and delivers on the promise of “filling the black holes” with “affectionate swords”

20 notas – Publicadas em 6 de fevereiro de 2022

N.º 4

Alchemy of Souls is just Wuxia Kdrama with terrible kpop idol hairstyles...and I love it.

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N.º 3

Random Hanadan/BoF Shitpost

After hearing that Love in Flames of War, a republican era cdrama had Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers/ Meteor Garden/ F4 vibes... but eventually failed to deliver on that front I rambled at @dangermousie​ that, actually, we SHOULD have a Hanadan version of every genre of cdrama.

 No...wait...I’m joking...but also not. My reasoning for this is solid:

 1) No matter what you thing of Hanadan and all it’s objectively toxic and dated glory, you can’t deny it is a hallmark in the history of shoujo manga/anime/asian drama/ live action adaptation/remake pumping machine. It paved the way for all the ItaKiss, Fated to Love You, etc...and it is still to this day a nostalgia magnet for an easy cash grab with each remake (also the latest one might be the best lol).

 2) *Surrender by Cheaptricks plays in the background, talks in “there is no war in ba sing se” mode* There are no new ideas in media. Everything is a sequel, prequel, remake, reboot, retelling, soft reboot, parody, homage, the same thing over and over again but call it by another name (it’s still a rose, yeah Shakespeare, you’re a genius, congrats!).

 3) Let’s face it. Dramaland is going through the lowest of lows. Cdramas are bad and boring, Kdramas are scarce and boring and Jdramas are 10 ep cute little intros to the story you really wanna see that’s about to begin...at the end of ep10, last episode, no 2nd season. So, they might as well try Every Hanadan Set Everywhere all at Once.

 So, without further ado, introducing...every genre of Cdrama Hanadan (with crazy plot eggs for some and none for others bc I say so):

Starting with contemporary…

1)      Reverse hanadan where the fl is a rich asshole and the ml a poor little meow meow

2)      Time loop hanadan

3)      Modern Fantasy hanadan (sort of like the beginning of Bulgasal but more petty and less angsty lol)

4)      Transmigration low budget web drama romcom hanadan

5)      *barfs* modern office corporate romance hanadan

6)      *barfs again* gaming hanadan

7)      Sports hanadan (aka if HanaKimi wasn’t genderbender or cute but toxic instead)

8)      Coming of Age/ Youth to Adult Married life Hanadan 

Syke! Too late! There is already an OG classic toxic Hanadan of this Genre, it’s called Itazura na Kiss (and it’s my guilty pleasure, my personal hanadan lol)

9)      Ice sports hanadan....yesss...get gory with the bullying with ice skating blades muahahaha. The red card locks her on the ice rink and they oil the railings/plexiglass around it so she can't even climb out and she nearly freezes to death. They rope her to the back of a zamboni and drag her through the ice. While she is trapped on the ice rink, they rig a bucket of water to fall over her so she freezes faster.

Now for the period dramas…

10)   Republican Era hanadan

They could use the boat scene ending from the finale of the anime as a convenient plotpoint to escape the republican era without dying in the republican turmoil. "Oh, they just reunited dramatically on a boat post amnesia and went abroad together and missed all the political fatal shit and lived happily ever after. Their kids returned to China and lived happily under the great CCP rule (/s)!

11)   Palace hanadan

It’s hanadan meets legend of Ruyi where he is the Crown Prince but the Empress Dowager holds all the power and on some humiliation move has him take a barbarian slave as a concubine...and the red card is that it's open season on her from every noble or regular consort of his harem and his friends in the court...all is fair the only rule is she cannot be murdered, everything else is fair game. So she is beating to the brink of death, poisoned daily with agonizing pills only to be given antidotes at the last minute, drowned, flayed, etc.

12)   Wuxia hanadan. Similar. Dude is the leader of the jianghu, declares her a demon bc she offended him and has all the pretentious righteous sects go after her with agonizing Gus pushed on her body, plenty of chains, kebab her in multiple ways with stakes in torture chambers to cast out the evil.

13)   BL Wuxia hanadan. (this one is just here by popular demand. Mine. No, I will not elaborate on that).

14)   And at last…my personal favorite….drum rolls… Xianxia hanadan (here is the plot):

She spilled peach wine on his cloud robes once by accident before the Great Heaven's Ceremony so he scribed her name carelessly on the stone of the doomed as petty revenge hoping she'd get some bad karma. But at the time the Demon Overlord was fighting the Lord of Fate and the Dijun on Kunlun and as they made their final strike the demon overlord turned into a cloud of heavy miasma that swirled away swiftly for miles and landed on the stone of the doomed. Hence, for the next 10.000 years the calamities and heavenly tribulations of every god were transferred into the unlucky FL.

In the first 300 years, the gods were unsure of what was happening, but soon word spread of a small menial demigoddess who seemed to be getting an abnormal amount of calamities and trials and yet never ascended into a higher level god. But other gods were getting past their fated tribulations dates without experiencing the event itself but still ascending afterwards. Soon this bizarre phenomenon was being gossiped throughout all the heavenly realms and the gods were rushing to get their hands on every magical item capable of moving forward their tribulation dates... After all, who knew how long this free meal would last? So it follows that our female lead spent the next 10.000 overbooked from torturing calamity to the next without a break or a reward.

Our cloud cloaked protagonist came to learn of this business about 500 years into it. It was not his intention for the karmic payback to be that harsh...but then again it was his best cloud vest that the annoying, insignificant little demigoddess had ruined...and if the consequences had been that rough, who was he to question the Great Design. He soon forgot all about it, surely none of that pesky matter would come back to bother him...

10.000 later: Our fuming fl finally had enough...after experiencing every form of dismemberment as a human, for eons, though she didn't collect an ounce of heavenly grace to ascend to higher goddess....she sure damn well accumulated enough yin to form a monumental grudge...and she would use all of that energy into one single punch for a certain cloud clothed god that would send him so high the gods would finally know what lies above the heavenly realm...not that he'd get the opportunity to tell the tale.

Ver a publicação completa

29 notas – Publicadas em 20 de maio de 2022

N.º 2

Reset (cdrama)

Just finished Reset and it’s my fav cdrama of like...the whole of the plague years?! I haven’t even liked any cdramas this year, barely tolerated a few, but this? this was flawless. On every level. Better than most western dramas of its genre. They have a cool concept, keep it simple, add only necessary elements and the attention to detail, character building, etc is on point. The acting is good, the leads especially, subtle but detailed, their chemistry is great and it’s one of those dramas that keeps you on edge for every minute of it. Did I mention I love the main characters? smart and good people, yet not annoyingly perfect. They mess up (the whole drama is trial and error) sometimes in impulsive ways, but never in unbelievably dumb ways. Perfect length too (ok could have been 12eps instead of 15... but still, excellent runtime management coming from a cdrama!). And most of all...it doesn’t F*Ck it all up at the ending. Do you know how many of the few dramas I almost reaaally loved (not liked, not tolerated, actually loved) while airing turned out to have such a shitshow of an ending that ruined the whole thing? Probably 90% of them... it’s a thing, cdramas have terrible or mediocre endings by definition and then only a few miraculously escape that fate.

45 notas – Publicadas em 6 de fevereiro de 2022

A minha publicação número 1 de 2022

The bastard son & the devil himself

I predict the tumblr craze for the next weeks is Netflix's the bastard son and the devil himself. It's a story between two rival clans of witches that are brutal and try to kill each other (ones are sort of cannibal too, the others succeed in the genocide of their rivals from their country) and the mc is the son of a mass murderer for the other side, raised by the rival clan and constantly abused by his half sister who is a psycho who wants to kill him. Also along the way he runs away with the daughter of that clan's leader and they both fall in love with a bi wizard who helps them escape.

Supernatural+rivalry+gore+threesome mc relationship? This the the most tumblr thing ever.

49 notas – Publicadas em 3 de novembro de 2022

Vê agora o teu Ano em Revista de 2022 do Tumblr →

[peralta-guaranteed]

One of my favorite things to imagine and think about is how Rosa and Jake met. Like here is this doofus looking white boy, and this badass scary Latina (who is honestly probs nervous for the academy). Rosa gets worried when he starts talking to her but he just talks about die hard and sour candy the whole time???? Is not racist or sexist??? Or hitting on her??? And she is,,,,, confused?? Like who is this straight white boy and why is he not being a dick?

Rosa canonly said it took her a couple of weeks to like him so I’m just imaging those weeks of her realizing she has this friend who is amazing and it warms my heart every time. I need more fics from Rosa’s POV of them meeting

Day 1 - everyone here sucks. As expected. At least it'll be over in 6 months and I can get to actual work. Day 2 - we were separated in groups and would you believe it, my whole group is nothing but white dudes, how wonderful. They already made 4 jokes about 'those latinos'. Day 3 - One of the dudes picked a fight with the latino jokers. Might not be the worst apple of the bunch. Day 4 - IS HE EVER GONNA SHUT UP Day 5 - he does not shut up Day 6-7 - weekend and peace, no noise. Definitely don't miss the constant background chatter about stupid things. Day 8 - Made the mistake of asking him how his weekend was. 3 hour chatter. Day 9 - he brought in donuts and offered me one, no thanks. Not gonna go down that flirting route. "They're for everyone" okay but he offered none to the others and ate them all himself. Day 10 - Donut holes this time. I ate one. Is this what you call someone's face "lighting up"? Gross. Day 11 - whole box of donut holes for him, whole box of donut holes for me. Wanted to throw them in his face telling him not to try any shit with me, I can see the random flirt / guilttrip coming. He turned it into a fucking game instead. Day 12 - I can't believe he caught that donuthole from seven rows down, actually impressive. Day 13-14 - weekend and peace again. Did not consider ordering donut holes during brunch. Day 15 - brought my own donut holes so there wouldn't be any misunderstandings about who owes who. He managed a double-wall-hit catch. Biggest grin after my thumbs up, that was probably a mistake. Day 16 - off-track training. He ate face 15 minutes in. Only helped him up so our team time wouldn't suffer. Did earn me good help during the next obstacle course. And a high five, which I refused. Day 17 - he did the off-track training without fail, he deserves that high five. Day 18 - apparently he's a huggy drunk. And even chattier. Not good. Note: watch out for his dad during graduation. Bring knife. Day 19 - he came in with a black eye and wouldn't explain. Finally did when I twisted his arm just right. Latino jokers took it too far yesterday. Note: do not leave bars before him. Day 20-21: weekend is too quiet. Does he have an icepack for his eye? Gonna text him to buy frozen peas. He definitely does not have vegetables anywhere in his place. Day 22: His eye looks better. Asked if I needed any peas for dinner. Day 23: One of the latino jokers is out of the class. Teach wouldn't explain why. Got a clear wink from his black eye, though. Does that mean I owe him now? Day 24: patrol training. Thought his chatter was bad? Try his radio singing. Day 25: patrol training again. Apparently we were meant to pick partners and switch around. Was not notified of that when he handed me our assignment. It's fine though. Day 26: patrol training. Fuck, can he run, though. Chased that decoy perp for 12 blocks, I recon. Then texted me he got lost. Day 27-28: weekend. Text for drinks. Did not leave bar before him because I had to bring him home. His place is horrible. Fixed the broken oven so now he can have 'the best frozen pizza in the world' again. Day 29: His mom called during lunch break. Adorable how his voice changes. But shit, he talked about this 'cool friend' he made. Day 30: mom called me, asked how I was doing. Seemed very happy I mentioned a new friend. Day 31: there was only one orange soda left at the bodega for lunch break. That and donut holes got me a hug. Feels weird. But good.

[daechwitatamic]

Chapter 5: Childish || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary:  This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

//

In which you and Taehyung address what happened at movie night.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, bad rap lyrics… listen i tried my best ok

Word Count: 3.8k

Note: This is a duplicate of Chapter 5. Apologies if you already interacted with the first version - it wasn't showing up in searched tags. The Ghost Post for Chapter 5 is here.

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 5: Childish

Sunday, November 18th

In the morning, Kiko’s bed is empty, so you text her, “Good morning???”

Instead of answering you with words, she sends you a Soundcloud link titled, Sirens [DEMO]  - MYG ft K!k0.

[9:02 AM] Kiko✌️: sry for bailing on the movie but we finished this

You scramble for your earpods, eagerly starting the track. The beat starts, fast and angry, and then Yoongi’s rapping starts.

All these months at sea have got me seeing shit I close my eyes and take an even bigger hit Your siren call has got my fucking guard up These last six months I’ve been so fucking hard up Snared by your beauty as you pass by Your siren song is just another goddamn lie I have heard you singing, each to each You’ve always been just outside my reach Part of me wants to let you drag me down Til human voices wake us and we fucking drown I’m powerless to fight it, I refuse to try Your siren song is just another goddamn lie

The chorus starts, and you hear Kiko for the first time. Her voice comes in sweet and steady, definitely her, haunting as it traverses the minor key.

“Holy shit,” you say out loud, pulling out your earpods and scrambling up the ladder to Bridget’s top bunk. She whines in complaint as you scoot in next to her, poking her arm.

“Wake up, you have to hear this,” you tell her. “Look at our baby go!”

[9:10 AM] You: omg omg omg that’s so good i literally woke b up to listen to it too

[9:11 AM] You: she hates me but she loves the track

[9:12 AM] You: your VOICE iasnfoiajefjef 

[9:14 AM] Kiko✌️: thaaaanks 🥺🥺🥺

[9:16 AM] You: if he gets famous w that hes gonna get a cease and desist letter from Eliot’s people lmaooo

[9:19 AM] Kiko✌️: ????

[9:20 AM] You: ts eliot? the poem?

[9:22 AM] You: ‘i have heard them singing, each to each’

[9:23 AM] You: ‘til human voices wake us and we drown’

[9:24 AM] You: they’re from that longass ts eliot poem idr the name of it

[9:25 AM] You: hold on im looking it up

You send her the link to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and click your screen off. 

“You think he wrote that about her?” Bridget muses, eyes still closed.

“No way,” you say. “You’d have to have some serious audacity to ask a girl to feature vocals on a track you wrote about trying to resist her charms…”

“Maybe he has a lot of audacity,” she murmurs. 

You kick your way under her blankets - your feet are freezing - and put your earpods back in, turning your screen back on to listen to it again.

Monday, November 19th

Monday brings sunshine, even if it is freezing cold. You’re leaving your final class, your laptop bag heavy on your shoulder, when a phone call comes in from Bianca.

“Hey, Y/N,” she says when you pick up. “I figured this would be easier than emailing back and forth five times. I’m trying to reschedule your session with Taehyung. Are you feeling better?”

“Oh,” you say, stomach dropping. Good, now that you and Taehyung aren’t speaking you can spend an extra hour alone with him! “Yeah, I’m all better. Thanks.”

“Great,” she says. “Can you do tomorrow morning? I know it’s kind of late notice,” she says apologetically.

“I’d have to be done by ten for class,” you tell her. 

Bianca schedules you for nine the next morning, and tells you she’ll email you both to confirm. 

You’re at dinner with Bridget that night when Taehyung texts you about it.

[7:55 PM] Taehyung: hi. Would you be okay with doing tutoring at the coffee shop tmrw instead of the library

[7:56 PM] Taehyung: i have class at 10 and its closer to the academic buildings

You wave your foot around in discomfort. You hate knowing you hurt his feelings. He’s obviously upset, or this would’ve been a facetime call. 

[7:59 PM] You: yep. See you at 9.

He doesn’t answer.

Tuesday, November 20th

When you reach the cafe in the morning, Taehyung’s already in a booth, books open on the table. You pause at the edge of the table, and he looks up at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“Morning,” you said uneasily. “I’m gonna get in line and order my coffee, and then we can start?”

“Sure,” he says, and goes right back to highlighting the Strindberg text. 

You frown, crossing your arms. “Is this how it’s going to be for the whole hour? Are you even going to speak to me?”

“If I need help with the work,” he allows, eyes still on the text.

“Taehyung,” you say, frustrated, “don’t be childish -.”

“I’m being childish?” he echoes, eyebrows raising indignantly. “You started the cold shoulder shit just because I dared hang out with a friend when we -.”

When we… aren’t anything in the first place. You know that’s the end of the sentence. You know that’s the truth. There was nothing between you two but potential, but that had spoiled now. You don’t wait for the end of the sentence. You turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait,” he says quickly, and reaches for your hand, holding your fingers tightly. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

You stand there, his fingers still clutching yours, frozen. His hand is warm on yours, his eyes intense, and you feel like he could just tug you right down there next to him with very little effort. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Let’s just… I’ll work on the paper. Let’s just… work.”

You don’t really have a choice. You’re contracted for an hour. Pursing your lips, you set your bag on the empty bench. 

“I’m going to order my coffee,” you tell him quietly, and he nods, finally dropping your hand. When you return, you settle in and get your laptop running. 

“Okay,” you say, eager to put the arguing behind you and get to work. “What step of the paper are you on? Isn’t it due this week?”

“Yeah, by Friday at midnight,” he tells you. “I’m just done taking my notes for the disillusionment theme and then I can start typing it up.”

“How can I help today?” you ask.

He frowns, sliding the Strindberg text between you. “I was looking at his last little bit here,” he says, pointing with his capped highlighter. “I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden - I was going to write about the word thought - like, he thought he knew what was there, he thought he was seeing something hidden that was beautiful and good. Like, he saw the darkness behind the facade, but then the sun shone on this spot and he thought that behind the darkness there was still something good… but he was wrong.”

“Tae,” you say, quietly. 

He gives you a warning look. “Don’t,” he says. “Focus on the paper. Am I onto something worth putting in the paper?”

“Yeah,” you say, begrudgingly. “It’s good.”

He nods and writes something down in the notebook he has open next to the text. When he’s done, he opens his laptop and gets typing away. You drop your eyes, focus on your coffee. 

He types for about fifteen minutes and you don’t talk as he works. When you hear the sound of clicking keys stop, you glance up to see if he needs to be reminded to focus, as he asked.

But instead of looking distracted - out the window, or at his phone - he’s looking at you. He’s pouting, lips protruding, and it’s so fucking cute that it makes you feel angry.

“What?” you snap, but you’re fighting a smile. 

“I can’t stand that you’re mad at me,” he admits. “I should have told you I had a girl at the house, that it was a friend. I’m sorry. I know that we aren’t… y’know… but if I’d run into you with a guy like that I think I’d…” He trails off, half-formed thoughts tripping him up. “It would have felt bad. And I did not mean to make you feel bad.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you want. You owe me nothing. I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I was trying to be chill about it and just… failing miserably.”

“You don’t send someone homemade soup and then show up with another girl,” he says, shaking his head. “I screwed up.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him gently. “It’s fine. I’d like it if we just… moved on.”

–

By the time your hour is up, Taehyung has finished typing most of the paper. You make him promise to finish it and send it to you to look over before your normal Wednesday morning session tomorrow.

You gather up your things and wait as Taehyung does the same. Once you’re both ready, you turn and walk towards the door; you both have class right after, and you’re in a bit of a hurry to make it on time. 

The line of students trying to grab a coffee before the ten o’clock classes start is quite long, reaching almost to the door. And at the end of it stands Davis.

You drop your eyes quickly, as if seeing him would make him more likely to see you. You scrunch down into your sweater, hiking your bag higher on your shoulder, and pick up your pace. 

Taehyung is suddenly beside you instead of behind you, his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly up against him as you walk side by side. He’s warm and solid against you, and you feel the tight fist that had been wrapping itself around your lungs release a little bit. It just feels instantly… safer. You keep your eyes down, but you feel Taehyung turn to look at Davis as you pass by. He reaches forward to open the door, and you step through together.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still watching the very fascinating pavement. 

“You have to stop running from him,” he tells you seriously. “He’s garbage, and you’re…”

You’re what?

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that,” he amends. 

You scuff your sneaker along the path. “Which way are you going?” you ask him. 

“Pastorino Building,” he tells you, pointing.

“Me too.”

When he holds out his hand for you, you take it. 

--

[11:44 AM] Taehyung: you finally took me off of read, huh?

[11:52 AM] You: ???

[11:54 AM] Taehyung: insta

[11:56 AM] You: lol oh

[11:57 AM] You: yeah u earned it i guess

[12:00 PM] Taehyung: “i guess” o ok then 🙄

--

[12:11 PM] Nina💕: y is ur new man messing with Davis????

[12:14 PM] You: 100% honesty, i have nooooo idea what ur talking abt

[12:16 PM] Nina💕: walking around campus giving him dirty looks nd shit, real mature

[12:19 PM] You: omfg. i need everyone to grow the fuck up pls. 

[12:20 PM] You: knowing davis and knowing taehyung, i’d guess they saw each other ONCE and if tae didn’t smile then davis went and cried like a fucking baby 

It’s almost twelve hours later, after you’re in bed working on getting sleepy, that you realize that Nina had said “your new man” and you’d done nothing to refute this.

Fuck.

Wednesday, November 21st

You’re - stupidly - excited for your tutoring hour on Wednesday morning. You don’t know what is starting with you and Taehyung, but something is. But when you arrive at eleven on the dot, he’s not there. He’s still not there five minutes later, and you shoot him a quick text - “we on for tutoring?” 

Two minutes later, he comes up behind you, practically panting, a paper travel mug in each hand.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was already running a minute or two late because the line was so long, and then I got here and I couldn’t open the door -.”

You crack up, reaching to take the cups from his hands and place them on the table. 

“Did you bring me coffee?” you ask accusingly, a smile creeping across your face.

“I’m still trying to make up for Saturday,” he says with a laugh, pulling out a chair on the other side of the table.

“You have already, and then some,” you tell him seriously.

“I hope I ordered it how you like it,” he says sheepishly.

“I’m not picky,” you assure him. “So, what are we working on today?”

“All business, huh? Even when I bring you coffee?” he teases, eyes crinkling. 

“I’m all business when I’m on the clock,” you agree. “Talk to me in fifty-three minutes and I can be more fun.”

“You’re fun anyway,” he says, eyeing you sideways as he takes out his laptop. “Anyway, I finished the paper last night. Can I send it to you now? Then I can start my Chekhov reading while you look it over?”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. “Chekhov, huh? Three Sisters?”

"Cherry Orchard," he corrects you.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” you tell him. “I’m excited to see what you think. I do like Three Sisters better, though, if I had to choose.”

“I don’t get to choose,” he says lightly. “I just sent you the paper, did you get it?”

“I’m surprised you even know how to use the school email,” you murmur without thinking, eyes on your screen, and you’re surprised when he laughs, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if you think it?” he challenges, raising one eyebrow. Something stirs in your stomach. 

“Shut up and do your reading,” you say, laughing, doing your best to ignore the flutter of attraction. 

When your hour is up, you walk together towards the cafeteria as you have on other Wednesday mornings. But instead of splitting up, Taehyung raises that eyebrow at you again, as if issuing a dare. 

“Want to sit together?” he asks.

You grin. “Yeah,” you say. “But you might have to deal with my roommates when they figure out I ditched them.”

Thursday, November 22nd

Thursday is cold, but the sun shines brightly, so you decide to walk at your trail between your morning class and your afternoon class. It’s too cold to sit on your bench for long, but at least the walk will give you some exercise, and some good thinking time. Your mind is disgustingly full of Taehyung - the easy back and forth you have, how shockingly different he is from your expectations, the fucking cute way he pouts as he eats, the sexy way he rolls his tshirt sleeves, the way his smile will start so tentatively and then blast full-wattage out of nowhere.  You walk quickly, the cold hitting you sharply, like a slap in the face, and you need it. It knocks some sense into you. You’re a fucking mess, and you feel a little out of control with it. 

You head back to your room to take a quick shower before your 2:30 class, opting to skip lunch. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you know you won’t be able to eat until tutoring ends at 7. You wonder if you’d be able to talk Taehyung into doing tutoring from the cafeteria.

You somehow manage to make it on time for Becky at 5:00, barely, but you’re starving by the time Taehyung plops down in the seat across from you.

You tell him hello absently, already digging in your bag for your wallet, ready to ask him if he’d mind doing tutoring somewhere with food.

“Oh, goddamn,” you murmur, shifting your laptop out of the way and scraping around the bottom of your bag.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, peering at you.

“I can’t find my wallet,” you tell him, starting to take things out of the bag one by one. Then suddenly you freeze, your wide eyes meeting his across the table. “Oh shit,” you utter. “I think I dropped it at the trail.”

“The trail?” he echoes.

“The walking trails over at the nature preserve,” you clarify, still horrified. “I went walking there before class and I had my wallet with me then, and now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t have it when I packed my bag for class.”

Taehyung looks at you, calculating. Then he nods and says, “Okay, so let’s go get it.”

“What?” you say, sure you misheard him. “Now? It’s dark. And freezing.”

He shrugs. “We’ll bundle up. It’ll be fun, like a little adventure.”

“Trespassing on closed trails in the dark - in snow temperatures - does not sound like an adventure,” you tell him. 

“Come on,” he goads. “What else are you going to do? You’re in classes until it’s dark tomorrow, you won’t be able to go look.”

You frown at him. “How do you know my class schedule?”

“I pay attention,” he says, waving a hand at you, like this is insignificant. “So? We’ll use our phones and follow where you walked. It could still be there.” 

You stop to consider it. You could just consider it a loss - freeze your credit card, replace your drivers license. Or you could wait and see if anyone turned it into the police or campus security. Surely, this isn’t so pressing that you need to go now.

But.

But, going for a nighttime walk with Taehyung - even if it is fucking cold out - does sound kind of exciting. 

“What about tutoring?” you ask, resolve crumbling.

“We’ll talk about Ibsen the whole time,” he says, already starting to pack up his bag. “Come on, there’s a parking lot at the trailhead, I’ll drive us over.”

There are no other cars in the lot when you park - probably because the whole nature preserve closes at sundown, which was about three hours ago. Taehyung turns off the car and you both get out, turning the flashlights on your phones on. You guide him to the trail you took, and walk in silence for a few minutes, beams crisscrossing the trail as you go.

“I turned my paper in yesterday,” he tells you. You’re shivering a little, searching the edge of the path. “Two days early. Do I get extra points for being early?”

“No,” you tell him flatly. “But yours will be one of the first she grades. I’m excited to see her feedback.”

“She’ll probably think I cheated,” Taehyung laughs. 

“No,” you disagree. “It definitely still sounded like you wrote it. Your voice came through.”

He looks at you across the path, only a silhouette from your phones illuminating patches on the ground. In the dark, you can’t make out his face at all, can’t read his eyes or his expression. 

“You did a good job,” you reassure him again. “It was well written.”

“Thanks,” he says finally. 

You walk in silence a little longer. You can’t see anything except the small circle on the ground from your phone, and it’s eerie. You’re glad Taehyung is with you, but you’re half tempted to step closer to him, to walk in his wake instead of on your own. You shiver again, your face aching from the cold, your fingers going numb. 

This was probably a dumb idea. 

You reach your bench and you hurry over, sure that if your wallet fell out of your pocket it would have been while you were seated. Sure enough, you find it under the bench, in a small tuft of dead grass. It occurs to you that Taehyung is here in your most sacred thinking spot, but you’d never brought Davis here even though you’d been dating for almost two whole school years as students here.

“Got it!” you cheer, turning to find Taehyung by the location of his phone’s light.

He comes up next to you, putting his hands on your upper arms. You’re still shivering slightly.

“You cold?” he murmurs, and you’ve never heard that tone of voice on him before. It’s low, almost guttural, and your body responds to it immediately, the blood rushing away from your head. 

“Mhm,” you say, not trusting yourself to try and form words. 

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in, and you lean in, soaking in his warmth. This is fine - this is nice - but then he moves a hand to gently tip your chin up and leans in to kiss you. His lips are soft against yours, but his kiss isn’t. As soon as he can feel you kissing him back, he reaches both arms around you again, tugging you tight against him as your lips crash together. 

You manage to sneak a hand out of his tight embrace and curl your fingers through the wavy hair at the nape of his neck; you tug just a little and his mouth opens for yours, a tiny groan escaping him as if against his will as his tongue touches yours for the first time.

Everything about the kiss is slow but purposeful, intense in its lack of frantic energy. He kisses you like he’s got his whole life to keep it up, like there’s no reason to rush when he can take it this slow and feel everything, notice everything, love everything that you do.

You bring one freezing hand up to touch his jaw, your thumb rubbing a gentle line along the bone, and he shivers under your touch. He moves to tangle one hand in your hair, and suddenly it’s an entirely different kiss, all the energy and aggression that he seemed to be holding back earlier now bursting forth.

You appreciate the variety.

You release his hand and clutch the front of his zippered winter coat, pulling him closer, though it doesn’t seem possible. You want him closer. You want him to kiss you for a hundred more hours. 

He nips your bottom lip and you whimper without meaning to; he groans again in response to this, moving to kiss a line down your jaw and down to your neck. The air is instantly freezing in the wake of his hot mouth, and you shudder in his hands. 

When he finally pulls away, leaning back to look at your flushed face, he asks, “How about now?”

You laugh, once, and whack him in the chest. “A little better,” you admit. 

He presses his forehead to yours and inhales deeply. “I would like to do that again without the puffy winter coats on,” he tells you.

You laugh again, stepping back a little bit. “Okay,” you tell him. “I think that can be arranged.” 

Next

Thank you so much for being here! I appreciate every single like, reblog, dm, ask, or reply!

As always, a million thanks to @kookstempo for being an expert turkey-wrangler and also for beta-ing!

[manekicatwriter]

hellooo! i was wondering if i could make a request for an modern au sbi x gn sibling reader where they’re around 17-19, and they’ve got depression. they’ve had to go away for a few weeks after a bad episode ended in an attempt and they were hospitalized and sent somewhere for rehabilitation and now they’re coming home and they’re all anxious and quiet and stuff- so the boys do their best to like comfort them and reassure them that they’re loved and they belong there? i’m sorry if that’s an awkward request, i was just recently discharged after a similar situation and honestly the comfort would be great. it’s totally your call if you chose to write it tho, i understand that this is a difficult and triggering subject and not everyone is comfortable with writing things like it. if you aren’t comfy please feel free to just ignore my ask! <3

you’re here, and that’s what matters.

TW: mentions of attempted suicide. please proceed with caution.

hey! i just wanted to let you know that i’ve been through a similar situation and understand how you feel (though my case was not as severe). i wish you a safe road to recovery.

note, i think you asked for their characters but it leant itself towards their rl versions. i have a feeling the dsmp versions would be too chaotic for this sensitive subject.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! please do not be afraid to send in an ask. ANON IS ON!!

Phil:

- phil was very scared about you being so gravely hurt, it kept him up for some nights. thankfully, you pulled through.

- he visited whenever he could. if he couldn’t, he was busy making sure coming home felt as comfortable for you as possible while also educating himself on how to take care of you.

- phil would listen to how you felt, and be understanding of your feelings.

- “You don’t have to tell me why you did it, I’m just glad you’re here,” pulling you in for a warm hug.

- when you got back home, he made sure he and the boys had prepared your favorite dinner and desserts.

It was the day you had just got home from rehabilitation, and you two were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t said much, you felt like you had nothing to say. Phil had asked for you to sit down so you two could talk, one on one.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry,” your voice started to crack. “For making you guys worry about me.” Tears started to form from your eyes and you wept into your hands.

Phil immediately reached over to you to hug you, letting you cry on his shoulder. “We don’t blame you. We don’t blame anybody. I just want you to be here safe with us. Let it all out.” He pat and rubbed your back soothingly as you kept crying. But it was a good cry. He was just glad you came home.

Tommy:

- even though many see tommy as a loud and obnoxious boy with a general disregard for others, we all know deep down that’s a persona. he will go out of his way to make other comfortable in his presence if he truly cares for them. which he does, for you of course.

- he wants to make you happy! when the time is right, he’ll crack jokes and offer to play minecraft with you.

- would tone down the yelling. not because you asked, but he’s afraid of triggering you. treats you like glass. if you notice he’s being quieter than usual and you don’t care, you tell him you don’t.

- if you’re feeling it, he’ll take you out to fun places and to eat. nothing that’s too outlandish like a theme park, but just enough to have a reason to get out of bed that day instead of sleeping in.

It had been a week since you had gotten home and Phil had instructed you to maintain somewhat of a schedule to upkeep yourself. Right now was your nightly routine, washing yourself, brushing your teeth, and finally sliding under the covers. It felt nice. The blanket of sleep consumes you easily…

…

Until you bedroom door opens you’re being aggressively shaken awake. You groan, shying away, but they’re persistent.

“Ey, wake up, it’s morning!” Tommy shakes you again.

You realize you didn’t dream, but think nothing of it. “Tommy please, what do you want.”

Finally, Tommy pulled your warm sheets from over you, making you flinch. “I wanted to go out to the park today! Feed the ducks! Yeesss!”

You sighed. If you didn’t comply now, Tommy will refuse to stop nagging you for the rest of the day. You rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. You could very clearly hear Tommy’s cheers.

You two had gotten ready, eaten breakfast, and said goodbye to the rest of your family so you could head over to the park. It was close enough that it wasn’t unbearable to walk to. Even if you weren’t completely yourself yet, you were glad Tommy was.

After the short walk you two finally reached the park. Tommy immediately bolted toward the pond and you jogged behind. He had already started throwing the ducks some seeds, and even threw it on a duck. It didn’t seem too pleased.

You two sat at the edge of the pond as you watched the ducks eat. “Hey.” You hear Tommy call to you, and you turn your head to him.

“Can we talk about what happened? With you? Is it okay?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Go ahead, what is it?”

“When Techno found out what happened to you, and told us the news, I was scared shitless.” He let out a sad huff. “I thought we were going to lose you.” Tommy kept his eyes fixed at the pond in front of him. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have brought this up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He sighed.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Tommy…” You started, “I’m sorry for making you worry. You shouldn’t have to feel like that because of my actions.”

Tommy was lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking up, “No, please don’t apologize. It’s not anybody’s fault this happened, right?” You nodded.

Tommy stood up, dusting his pants off from the grass. “Come on now, let’s go get some ice cream!” He pulled you up from the ground.

“Last one to get to the shop has to pay!”

Immediately, Tommy bolts in the direction to the ice cream shop, and you catch up to him. No matter the circumstance is, he never seems to fail at putting a smile on your face.

Wilbur:

- i HC wilbur being the oldest, being older than techno by 3 years and older than tommy by 8, like IRL. :]

- i think out of all of your siblings, wilbur exudes the most “protective older brother” energy, yeah?

- remember when tommy lied about his mother being in trouble and how worried and anxious wilbur got? turn that up to 11 with what happened with you.

- with wilbur being the oldest, he of course had the responsibility of taking care of everyone. but somehow you and him didn’t spend as much 1 on 1 time as much as wilbur did with his other siblings

- wilbur definitely was going to change that, realizing that and not wanting to make that mistake again.

- he decided that finding a new hobby with you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

You were sitting at the dinner table, being the last one there. You were poking at your food for the most part, and Wilbur got home late from… whatever Wilbur thing he was doing. Phil cooked pasta for dinner tonight. Wilbur put down his bags at the door connected to the garage. “I’m home! What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta.”

“Mmm, I love some good ol’ pasta.” He said, already taking a plate out to serve himself. “Also, hey, I bought something I wanted to build with you. Do you mind?”

You finally looked up from your very interesting pasta. “Build..?” You had no idea where this was going.

Wilbur placed his plate on the table and approached the bags of groceries, going through them to find the bag he was looking for. He pulled out a LEGO set. More specifically, a LEGO City set from the looks of the box? “Wilbur, how much was that?”

He blinked at you innocently. “It was only, like, £25. And look! It’s got a little submarine we can make with a rock and ugly sea monster—“

“But why?”

“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt for you to do something new, yeah?” He smiled at you, shaking the LEGO box in front of him to show it off. You sighed, but smiled. “Alright. But maybe you and I should eat this pasta first before we start building.” Wilbur nodded.

“Speaking of water, don’t you think I could teach you how to swim or something?”

“Oh, fuck off with that!”

Technoblade:

- i think out of everyone in the family, he understands you the most in terms of how you feel.

- not suicidal, but just generally having depressive episodes due to his ADHD.

- techno’s generally closed off, but started to really open up to you because he wanted to show he cares, even if it meant going out of his comfort zone.

- techno suggested journaling. once a day or once per week, it didn’t really matter. just as long as you could write down your feelings somewhere.

- he didn’t explicitly say it, but he also bought a book for himself so he could do it along with you. although, he more often than not just forgets to write in it until you mention your own journal.

- if you want to be sad and quiet, you can be sad and quiet with him. his room is a safe space for you if you ever need it and you’re always welcome to come in, just as long as you knock first.

With one hand on your mouse scrolling through the internet, and another resting your head on it, you were safe to admit you were utterly and completely bored. Honestly, you thought about taking another nap after your last one, but a knock on your door stopped you right before you pulled the covers over yourself. “Can I come in?”

You rose from your bed. “Come in. Oh hey Techno.”

He gave a simple wave and his signature “Halloo.” He walked right over to you and handed a journal and a ballpoint pen. “I got this. For you.” His stare was sharp but you could sort of tell he was nervous.

“What for?”

“I dunno. Writin’ your feelings down or drawin’ or somethin’. Whatever helps you vent.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh Techno, thank you. That’s very sweet of you.” You gave a slight smile, but saw that he still had another journal in his hand. “You have two journals?”

Techno raised his eyebrow in confusion before looking down at his hand. “Oh this? It’s for me. So we could do it together, I guess.”

You let out a happy hum. “That’s nice. Say, why don’t we go to your room? I want to see your new lava lamp and stuff.”

Techno shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got more stationary too if you want.” He waved his hand before letting himself out the door, with you following not far behind.

hi hope u enjoyed reading as much as i did writing it. this format was new for me but very fun!

[whentommymetalfie]

Home to you -chapter 27

-Crossroads-

Prologue//1//2//3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Tensions rise at Arrow House, with disastrous consequences. 

Warnings: ptsd, injury, aftermath of forced hospitalization and medical malpractice, hallucinations, disordered eating, mentions of suspected non-con, mental breakdown, slurs

Wordcount: 4,6 K

Alfie knows things are truly dire when he’s the one who searches out Lizzie to talk, an overcast afternoon when everything feels particularly fucking hopeless. He finds her on the front steps, smoking and watching the kids playing with Cyril at the far edge of the lawn.

“We need to talk,” he tells her. “You me and the illustrious fucking Shelby siblings. Clear the air or something of the sort. For Tommy’s sake. He’s not doing well.” Which is the understatement of the fucking century and they both know it. Lizzie closes her eyes and lets out a stream smoke that sails towards the sky, heavy with rain clouds.

“Who’s with him now?” she asks.

“Ishmael’s keeping an eye on him. But he’s asleep, for now.”

Lizzie nods and looks towards the children, currently playing fetch with Cyril. Cyril, bless him, is currently looking for a ball lost in the bushes somewhere. Lizzie drops her cigarette and crushes it under her heal.

“Fine,” she sighs. “Let me just get Frances so she can keep an eye on the kids.”

Only a few minutes later they’re gathered in a parlor close to Tommy’s bedroom, but far enough away to avoid any potential shouting waking him up. And Alfie presumes there might be some of that. Considering what he’s about to tell them.

Arthur, sat in one of the sofas, has already downed two drinks, but when he reaches for the whiskey bottle again Ada takes it and ignores his scowl. She’s positioned herself strategically next to her brother, while Lizzie is occupying an armchair, already smoking another cigarette. Despite wanting to pace, Alfie is sat across from her, resting both hands on his cane.  

“Right, let’s clear the fucking air, then, shall we?” he says, breaking the silence. “Because whatever the fuck we’re doing right now is not helping Tommy. So, I’ve very graciously decided to sit down for a little chat rather than say, bashing a certain someone’s face in for completely failing to handle his terrified little brother and in fact making the whole situation worse.” Arthur sends him a withering look but for once keeps his mouth shut. “Which really is a whole thing of its own because you must’ve fucking known he wouldn’t contribute anything,” he says to Lizzie whose mouth draws into a tight line. “And should’ve fucking thought of that before bringing him here” Lizzie and Ada exchange looks.

“I already said shouldn’t have done it,” Lizzie says, jaw tight.

“Don’t tell me that, tell that to Tommy, who was already terrified of being back here to begin with,” Alfie says. “And now has to worry someone will crash through the door at any second. But that’s just part of the issue here, really. And let’s just cut to the fucking chase because I think you all realise that after the disaster that was yesterday, I’m taking him home.”

The reaction, predictably, is immediate. Arthur flies from his seat and might’ve socked him had it not been for his sister pulling him back down.

“You don’t have any fucking right to take him anywhere,” Arthur growls. “He belongs here, with his family.”

“Yeah? The family who landed him in an asylum?” Alfie asks and feels his blood beginning to boil at the mere thought. “Who neglected him as he lay alone in bed for weeks and weeks on end? Who stuck a fucking tube down his throat because they couldn’t get him to eat?” Lizzie looks straight at him, head held high. “I don’t even know what’s worse, thinking you were all so blind that you didn’t notice he was on the brink of shattering, or that you did notice but didn’t do shit to help. No, instead you just fucking let him wander off and put a bullet through his head. And left him bleeding out in a field because the one person who knew he was gone in the first place was too fucking drunk to go looking-“

This time, not even Ada can keep Arthur from flying out of his seat.

“This family needs him! He needs us.”

“This fucking family can go fuck itself,” Alfie snaps and gets to his feet with a bang of his cane against hard flooring. He gestures towards the walls with their dark paneling and empty grandeur. “This house, you, it’s all fucking killing him. He doesn’t eat. Barely drinks. He doesn’t sleep at night. Has begun wandering around the hallways again. Talking to ghosts and crows that aren’t there. For weeks he had more good days than bad, but since we came here it’s like he’s dropped right back into the fucking hole you left him in.”

At the end of the tirade, Lizzie has turned away, looking out the window. Arthur is panting like a fucking bull ready to charge. Ada is the one who breaks the silence, but her voice lacks its usual strength.

“But is it really that strange that he’s not doing well? He’s been in an asylum-“

“And was taken right back to another one,” Alfie interrupts her. “He can’t stay here. It’s going to kill him. And he can’t fucking give you anything because he’s got nothing left to give. If you care about him at all you’ll let him go. Let him heal. It’s the least you can do.”

Lizzie puts her cigarette out with a trembling hand just as it’s about to burn her.

“Why don’t you just fucking take him, then,” she says. “You’ve clearly already made up your mind?”

“God knows why, but he cares about you lot far more than you probably deserve. And unless he knows that you accept it, it’s going to hurt him,” Alfie says. “And he can’t bear any more fucking hurt now. Let him go home.”

At that, Arthur let’s out a loud snort.

“Of course you’d say that. You can’t fucking wait to have him all to yourself again, where he’s completely defenseless.”

Ada springing to her feet to get between them is the only thing keeping Alfie from knocking the scowl from Arthur’s face. Arthur’s hands clench into fists and his eyes look moments away from falling out of his skull. Alfie takes a slow breath. He’s got to focus on what matters. Arthur doesn’t fucking matter. None of them do. But he looks to Ada and Lizzie when he speaks, slowly, the gravity of the words weighing them down. “If you want him to live, you have to let him go. Or he’s going to fade more and more each day until there’s nothing left of him.”

And while Lizzie lowers her gaze and Ada’s distress is visible on her entire face, Arthur decides to once again let out one of those infuriating snorts.

“Bollocks. He needs us. He needs to get back to work. Live a normal fucking life. That should be the goal, not-“

And to avoid shoving his cane through Arthur’s left eye socket, Alfie turns on his heal and storms out of the room. That’s enough. Fuck this. Fuck them. Fuck all of it.

He strides through the hallway back to their room, tears the door open and

Finds it empty. No sign of Tommy anywhere except an empty spot between all the blankets. He checks the bathroom. With a dreadful sense of déjà vu he moves to the windows. Closed. Locked. Nothing -no one- on the ground far below. When he comes back into the hallway he’s met Ismael. He grabs him by the front of his shirt.

“Where the hell is Tommy?”

“In his room, Sir. He was still asleep when I last checked-“

“And when was that?”

Ishmael pulls out his pocket watch. “ ‘bout ten minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake him. Sometimes he does that. When I open the door. And he always gets scared-“

“And why weren’t you outside of the fucking door?”

“I think it makes him uneasy and I-“  

“You’re not supposed to fucking think, you’re supposed to follow orders!”

Alfie releases Ishmael and hurries back towards the parlor. He enters to find the Shelby siblings having a shouting match, Arthur crimson in the face and Ada’s eyes laced with steel. Lizzie is the only one who notes his entrance.

“Tommy is gone.”

They stop and stare at him.

“What?” Arthur says. The fucking moron.  

“You hard of hearing? He’s not in our room.”

“Does he have to ask for permission to leave your room?” Arthur grunts. “You got him on a leash too?”

“Shut up, Arthur,” Ada snaps, before turning to Alfie. “I’m sure it’s okay. He can’t have gone far.”

Lizzie is already marching out of the room and he follows. Arthur and Ada are close behind.

“I’m going upstairs to check the roof,” she says. “Ada and Arthur start with this floor and move downwards.”

Everything after the word ‘roof’ fades into a high pitched buzz. Alfie follows Lizzie in her tracks. Soon they’re running. Through hallways, up a flight of stairs, a door and yet another set of stairs, narrow and dark, creaking underneath their feet.

The roof is empty. They check behind the many chimneys, but find nothing. Then come to stand the edge, both still panting from the ascent. Lizzie clasps her hands on the top of her head, chest heaving. Then she wraps them around herself instead. Alfie puts his entire weight on his good leg.

“He went up here once,” Lizzie says quietly as she looks out over the grounds. “He’d just been lying in bed, hadn’t taken to wandering around the house at night yet. Then one morning the bed was empty. And the door to the stairs were open. And I thought he’d jumped.” She pauses and shivers as a gust of wind sweeps across the roof. “But he was just sitting there. Half frozen to death. Shaking like a leaf. And I tried to ask what he was doing out there, but of course he wouldn’t answer. We began locking all the windows after that. And the door up here. But on some nights we just had to lock the bedroom door instead.”

Alfie rests both hands on the low wall surrounding the roof and looks at anything but Lizzie. It’s no use asking questions because he doesn’t care to hear the answers. How could you fucking lock him up? Leave him alone all night? Leave him alone for even a second? An unpleasant memory resurfaces: of Tommy crying behind a closed bedroom door after Alfie locked him in there in what feels like another lifetime. He blinks the memory away. That was one time, one mistake, and he never did it again.

And right now it doesn’t matter what these people did, either. All that matters is finding Tommy.

The river in the distance catches his eye and his throat fills with bile. Lizzie notices and they share a look, a rare moment of understanding. Alfie shakes his head.

“He wouldn’t,” he says. “Not anymore.”

“It could’ve finally become too much. All of it.”

They leave the roof.

Downstairs, the entire house is in disarray. Alfie isn’t sure how there can be so many maids he didn’t know of but the building seems to be full of people searching. That’s what you get for living in a fucking castle. He and Lizzie pass all of them, heading for the front door. He passes Ishmael on the way, sprinting towards the kitchen. And he looks so fucking white in the face that Alfie could’ve almost felt sorry for him if he weren’t so fucking pissed.

The river looms in the distance like a bad omen and they head there, and Alfie’s heart sinks with every step. He can’t allow his mind to go there. Of course they’ll find him. Anything else is unthinkable. They’ll find him. Alive and well. Of course they will, God, please, he’ll do anything if he only finds him-

“Solomons!” They both turn at the sound of Ada’s voice. She comes running towards them across the lawn. Lizzie sets off at an impressive pace, and he forgets the aches and pains as he follows. Ada is panting, cheeks flushed.

“Arthur’s found him,” she says in between breaths and turns before either of them can ask any questions.

They reach the far edge of the large lawn, where the road begins, before Alfie sees them: Arthur trying to hold onto a violently struggling Tommy, barefoot and wild eyed. But alive.

“Tommy, it’s okay, calm down,” Arthur shouts to overpower the terrible sounds Tommy is making. When he sees them approaching, Alfie is sure he can see relief on his face. Tommy squirms and kicks and the useless struggle is clearly increasing his panic.

“Let go of him,” Lizzie calls and he understands the instinct, but for once he’s fucking glad that Arthur is there to act first and think later.

“I can’t, he’ll fucking bolt,” Arthur shouts back and barely avoids the back of Tommy’s head smacking into his nose. Finally, Alfie reaches them, lungs aching, heart pounding.

“Found him wandering down the road,” Arthur says. “He got spooked when he saw me.”

“Tommy, love, it’s okay. I’m here now,” Alfie says and reaches out to take Tommy into his arms, but Arthur won’t let go. Tommy’s eyes are wide, and completely glazed over.

“No, no, please-“ he gasps. “I don’t want to.”

“What do you not want, love?” he asks and tries to catch his gaze, make Tommy latch onto something in his eyes, but it’s useless.

“Please, it won’t happen again, please-“

Alfie closes the distance between them and takes his face between his hands. Tommy’s eyes finally snap to him. And some of the fear melts into confusion. He stops struggling. Looks between him, Ada and Lizzie. Arthur keeps him upright as he sways on his feet.

When Tommy reaches for him, Arthur reluctantly lets go and allows his little brother to fall into Alfie’s arms. Alfie wraps his arms tightly around Tommy’s small frame and buries his nose in his hair. The world around them fades.

“You’re here,” Tommy whispers.

“Of course I’m here, love. Where else would I be?”

“Home.”

“Well, as long as you’re here, this is where I’ll be.” Alfie kisses his temple “Is that where you were going, eh? Home?”

Tommy nods against his chest.

“I forgot.”

“That’s okay, darling. You just gave me a scare. But the important part is I found you, yeah? I’ve got you.”

“We should probably get you inside, Tommy,” Ada says. “You must be cold.”

Alfie suddenly becomes uncomfortably aware of the three sets of eyes watching them, but if Tommy can hear her, he doesn’t show it, choosing to stay with his face buried in Alfie’s chest. But Alfie sees the sense in what Ada is saying. Noting the way Tommy is leaning against him, he decides he can’t walk on his own and scoops him up to carry him.

To some extent it’s because he can’t bear the thought of having him anywhere but right there in his arms.

He sets off towards the house, leaving the others to follow. They do, but thankfully stay silent.

“I just followed the crow,” Tommy mutters suddenly and Alfie’s heart sinks.

“Sweetheart, the crow isn’t real. It-“

“I thought it had flown home. But it keeps pecking on the glass.” Tommy’s index finger taps against his chest. “I don’t know why. Grace knows, but she won’t tell me.” Alfie holds him tighter. “Maybe it’s cold. It’s not nice, being cold.”

“No, love, it’s not.”

“But it doesn’t want to be locked up either.

“Of course not.” Alfie swallows. “But the crow isn’t real, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“No one wants to be locked up. But we only do what’s best for you. It’s not safe.”

“You’re safe with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“They came anyway. You were there.”

The words make his throat seize up and he has to swallow several times before he can answer.

“I know, I know, love, and I’m so sorry,” he whispers into Tommy’s hair. “And whatever hell those bastards put you through I’m going to repay them tenfold. Yeah? I’m going to burn that place to the fucking ground. Every bloody asylum in this godforsaken country, if that’s what it takes to make you feel safe again.”

Tommy flinches and looks up towards the sky. Taps his finger against his chest. Then clenches his hand into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re real.”

“You bet I am. Absolutely fucking real.”

Nodding slowly, Tommy lays his head back against his shoulder. His mouth moves, forming whispers so quiet that not even Alfie can make sense of them.

The rest of the way to the house, no one says a word. Eventually Tommy’s quiet mutters cease too, and he gazes into the distance, lashes fanned low over his eyes.

Somewhere along the way towards the bedroom they lose Ada, Lizzie and Arthur. Alfie sets Tommy down onto the bed. Tommy remains where he’s been laid without moving a muscle. He gazes listlessly towards the window, mumbling words Alfie can’t hear. And it’s when he sees the emptiness in those impossibly blue eyes, when Tommy won’t even fucking acknowledge his presence as he sits down and strokes his hair, that’s when he decides upon his next move. He’ll bear the consequences, whatever they may be.

…

Late that night, when the rest of the house is sleeping, Alfie sends Ishmael with their luggage out to the car, doctor Adelman following close behind. He’s not thrilled about this idea, but needs must. And at least he now agrees with Alfie on the most important aspect: they need to get Tommy home. Meanwhile, Alfie wraps Tommy into a blanket. He’s asleep, seemingly, but it’s hard to know these days. So often he’ll just lie awake, eyes closed. He picks him up, settling his head against his chest. Tommy remains still.

Alfie begins his journey through the empty hallways, moving as quickly as he can without jostling Tommy too much. May not be like him, stealing away in the dark rather than facing whatever needs to be faced. But right now, that doesn’t matter. He needs to get Tommy home. Whether Tommy himself or his family approves. He rounds the corner to the large staircase. Tommy stirs. His lashes flutter. Alfie stops. Rocks him slowly.

“Shh, shh, just sleep, love.”

Tommy opens his eyes and peers up at him.  

“Alfie?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here because you are, love.”

One of Tommy’s hands untangles itself from the blanket to grab onto the front of his shirt.

“And you’re real?”

“Of course.” Alfie kisses his forehead. “But you just go ahead and keep sleeping. Got nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of everything.”  

And Tommy simply lays his head down on his shoulder again without a word of protest. It’s concerning, but at least makes the trip easier.

Alfie hurries down the stairs, ignoring the staring eyes of the portraits, through the grand fucking hallway that he hopes to never see again. Presses down the handle on the large door and shoulders it open.

Behind him, an all too familiar click echoes in the hallway. He turns and finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun, in the hand of Arthur Shelby.

With a sigh, he lets the door fall shut.

“Fucking hell, just one thing after another, innit,” he mutters and hoists Tommy up a little higher. Arthur’s face is red, even in the dark.

“I knew you were up to something,” he says. “Fucking knew it.”

“So you stayed awake like a good guard dog, eh?” Alfie snorts. “And now what? You gonna fucking shoot me, is that it?”

Arthur’s hand clenches hard around the weapon. His own gun is in its holster by his side, an old habit he’s had to pick back up since big brother showed up, but he can’t get it without letting go of Tommy. And tempting as it may be to shoot Arthur fucking Shelby in the face, that may not be the best option all things considered.

“Put him down, and get the fuck out,” Arthur says. “I’m not letting you take him.”

“Really, because I think that you will. Considering you don’t have any fucking options. See, you’re not going to shoot me, dear Arthur, because you know Tommy would never forgive you.”

Alfie turns, shouldering the door open again. The moment he does, Arthur fires the gun. Tommy jolts in his arms, enough to make him lose his grip and he barely manages to set him down safely on his feet. He does a quick onceover on himself, but finds no blood and all limbs intact. Arthur has put the bullet far above him in the doorframe. Tommy sways on his feet. Looks with wide, lost eyes between Arthur who still has his gun held high and Alfie. Alfie reaches for him.

“Touch him and the next one goes between your fucking eyes,” Arthur snaps. “Tommy, come here.”

He motions his little brother over but Tommy just stares at him. At the gun. Then to Alfie, reaching with trembling hands over his chest.

“It’s okay, love, hit nothing but the door, that one,” Alfie says and pulls him in despite Arthur’s ludicrous fucking threats. Shaking like a leaf again, he is. He feels the tremors when Tommy huddles closer, breaths coming in increasingly rapid beats against his chest.

“Tommy, he’s trying to take you away,” Arthur says. “From here. From us. Where you belong.”

“He needs to go home,” Alfie retorts and rubs Tommy’s back, trying to quell the panic to no avail. “It’s fucking killing him, being in this house. I mean I know you’re bloody thick but even you must see that?”

“What he needs is his family. What he needs is to get his normal life back-”

Voices and rapid footsteps coming from upstairs cut Arthur short, and isn’t that just what they fucking needed, more people? Alfie considers his options. Arthur won’t shoot him, he’s still fairly certain of that. But with Tommy here he can’t be taking any chances.

“Arthur, what the hell are you doing?” Ada shouts as she comes running down the stairs, still in her nightgown. Lizzie is stood at the top of the stairs, shooing away curious maids before following, the same steely expression on her face.

“That fucking bastard tried to disappear with Tommy without saying a word!” Arthur points the gun accusatorily at him and Tommy flinches at the harsh tone. Alfie tucks his head against his chest.

“I’m trying to keep him safe,” he says. “I’m trying to take care of him while there’s still something left to take care of. Fuck knows no one else is doing it.”

“For God’s sake stop waving that thing around,” Ada says and grabs Arthur’s arm. “You’re aiming it at your brother.”

Lizzie looks to Tommy, eyes soft.

“What about you, Tommy, do you want to leave?”

Tommy’s fingers clench tightly around the fabric of his shirtsleeve and his voice is nothing but a broken whisper. “I have to stay.”

“Hear that?” Arthur exclaims triumphantly. “He doesn’t fucking want to come with you.”

Tommy is shaking so hard that Alfie can hear his teeth chatter and his face has gone a ghostly shade of white. His eyes dart upwards. Then he tears himself out of Alfie’s grasp, puts more distance between himself and his family. And the only reason Alfie lets him is because it feels like he’ll break if he holds on any tighter.

“But do you want to, Tommy?” Lizzie asks softly. Tommy’s fingers shape into claws as he drags them over his arms.

“I have to. The kids- I-“

“It’ll do you good, Tommy,” Arthur says. “Getting back to life as it used to be. Now when you’re out of bed it’ll get easier.

Ada shoots her brother a furious glare. Alfie is busy focusing on Tommy, who squeezes his eyes shut and visibly shrinks before his eyes. He takes a step towards him but the way he flinches halts him.

“That’s all you need,” Arthur goes on. “Be reminded of what it’s like to fucking live. We’ll have you back to normal in no time.”

“Stop,” Tommy whimpers and covers his ears.

“Arthur-” Ada says and squeezes his shoulder but Arthur shrugs it off, looking at his sister with a shine of insanity in his eyes.

“He’s been cooped up way too long with that mad bastard, forced to do God knows what. He needs us. He needs to be with his family, not with a mad Jew, locked up in the middle of nowhere, being used-”

“Stop,” Tommy repeats, desperation cracking his voice.

“Arthur, for fucks sake, shut up,” Lizzie snaps. But Arthur seems oblivious to Tommy’s reaction.

“This is where he’s safe. This is where he belongs!”

When Alfie realises what is about to happen, it’s already too late. Fingers clawing into his skull, Tommy hunches over. And screams. His knees buckle and Alfie is too far away to catch him before he collapses and curls into himself, arms over his head and forehead pressed to the floor. The rest of them stare, and Arthur is finally fucking quiet, gun hanging uselessly by his side. Alfie kneels beside Tommy. Tries to lift him from the ground but the wounded howl stops him. Instead he wraps an arm across his back and leans over him. Tommy lets out a terrible, gagging sound, his whole body convulsing. As if the distress threatens to eat it from the inside. Alfie rubs his back. Holds him close as best he can.

“It’s okay,” he says, trying to make himself heard over the screams. “It’s okay, love, you don’t have to stay here. No one can make you. Shh, it’s okay.” But Tommy can’t hear him where he is now and Alfie fucking knows that and still he can’t keep himself from babbling useless reassurances, desperate to soothe him. Around him there’s movement. Voices.

“Tommy-“

“No, I think you’ve done enough.”

“But I-“

“Arthur, stay away from him.”

But none of it matters.

The screams turn into sobs, loud and heart wrenching. And Alfie can’t help it, he lifts Tommy off the floor, at least enough to cradle his upper body in his lap, and ignores the way the movement makes him flinch. Then he holds him tightly.

Sometimes when he holds his little broken bird on a bad night, he imagines that he’s fitting all the broken pieces back together.

Now, it’s not about trying to fit any pieces back together anymore.

Now, he’s just trying to keep the precious few that are left from falling out of his grasp.

“Shh, it’s just me, Tommy, I’m here, you’re safe,” he tells him. “I’ve got you.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Lizzie’s voice comes from above.

“Give him some fucking space,” Alfie snaps, without bothering to look up. “Go on, fuck off. All of you.”

If they protest, he doesn’t hear it. And if they give hostile looks he doesn’t notice. Because Tommy is crying his heart out in his arms, sobs echoing terribly between the high ceilings and walls of this godforsaken house. He leans over him, enveloping him completely to shield him from it. From everything. Even if it might be too late.

[sagurus]

Regarding a Common Misconception of Hakuba Saguru

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

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

Misconception: Saguru is constantly accusing Kaito of being KID

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, a few beats later in the conversation:

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

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

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

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

Let’s move on to the heist!

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

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

First of all, is this exchange:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

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i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.