#headers Twisted Loyalties | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vagabond-umlaut · 20 days ago

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what is the point of lukewarm love?

If I am not drowning in it, I have no desire for it.

Ⅰ. my beloved ghost and me

pairing: knight geto suguru x disgraced noble fem!reader tags: historical au; arranged marriage; slow burn; misunderstanding; arguments; kinda enemies to lovers; angst; drama; fluff; smut; hurt/comfort; eventual happy ending; MDNI; warning: ANGST, implied attempted sa (not to the mc), homicide, corruption; physical assault; abandonment issues; 1.7k wc notes: when i say this fic is the bane of my existence, i mean it in every sense of the term :) the chapter title is from here. the fic title and summary are from this post. the header is from pinterest. jjk isn't mine! please comment on the fic masterpost, or send me an ask, to be added to the taglist!! :))

Your husband is a callous man.

Disgustingly so.

But, of course, if you ever say the same to anyone else, they'll be certain to return you a scowl—not that they don't give you one now, but they'll make it much worse then—for how can you speak such ill of your husband: the oh-so-gallant, oh-so-chivalrous knight Sir Geto Suguru!?

Well, the thing is... first off, none of those outraged voices know the man as well as you do.

Secondly, and more importantly, none of them are you.

Born as the eldest daughter of one of the most prominent nobles in the Empire, you had always been told there was a golden future lying in wait for you. Elegant, graceful, refined—you grew up to be the epitome of each of these adjectives and so many more meaning the same. Something your parents and teachers adored you for, your peers resented you for, the general populace looked up to you for.

Long story short, your life was nothing less than wonderful.

But, as is the way with this world, good things seldom last long—yours too didn't.

The wandering hand of a noble.

The terrified screams of your maid.

The said noble's head rolling on the floor.

The pristine white of your gloves drenched in bright red, the same shade dripping from the sharp blade of a sword; that too, one which had always been an idle wall decoration...

Were the noble any lesser person, you know nothing would have happened. You did a right thing, after all, saving a poor helpless girl from the maws of a vile beast.

But no, he wasn't a lesser person.

He was the Emperor's little brother. Lecherous, yes, of course, no one could negate this; but he was His Majesty's youngest brother, eighth in line to the throne, which is why you weren't even taken to trial. The blood on your hands hadn't even dried before every title you owned were snatched away from you, and you were reduced from being one of the most highly regarded young ladies amongst the nobles to being a convicted criminal—

'Attempted theft of a royal jewel.'

'Harrassment of a member of the royal staff when they attempted to stop her.'

'Murder of a member of the Royal Family when they attempted to detain her.'

The story was changed, and with it thus twisted and distorted until not one letter of it was true, you were indeed nothing more than a convicted criminal—

A burden your parents waited not even a day before they decided to get rid of, before they decided to bedeck it in finery of the highest kind and send it to the slaughterhouse under the pretence of your hand being promised to Zenin Naoya.

You ran away.

Of course, you ran away.

Only to be spotted by one of your family's old servants, not even ten miles away...

What happened next is preserved very poorly in your memory—you remember reading in a book once, how one's mind tries to erase things too traumatic for them—but you do recollect the sheer panic and the utter desperation you felt as you were all but dragged back to the manor, you would swallow your tongue before calling it your home again. Oh, and, of course, the clinking of the thousand gold coins as your father awarded them to the man for his loyalty whilst your cheeks stung from the force of your mother's fury.

The Zenin heir cancelled the engagement within the next hour, claiming he had no desire to marry a disobedient wretch like you. When you scoffed and told your mother that neither did you have a wish to wed a cur like him, she slapped you again, drawing blood this time.

Your parents were prepared to disown you.

And you knew. And no matter how much it hurt, you were prepared to be disowned by them, prepared to leave and set out on a new path on your own—which is when your dearest husband entered the stage of your life, and without further ado, set it on fire—

Sir Geto Suguru, the paragon of virtue, so very darling to the Empire.

The envoy of death, so very terrifying to the enemies of the Empire.

The catalyst of your doom, so very dashing as he stood before your parents, the coal black of his hair and his eyes scintillant in the sun as he greeted them with a bow and a courteous smile—its keen shape perhaps not too unbecoming the sharpness of his mien, you thought absently, still blissfully ignorant to what lay in your future, as you stood behind your mother—

It took Geto all but a moment to stand upright and ask your father for your hand in marriage.

It took your blood less than a moment to freeze in your arteries.

Were it before, you know your parents would've rejected such a proposal in a heartbeat; your world and the knight's were far too different, too far apart. But that day, utterly devastated, utterly helpless, you watched them both nearly sob in relief as your mother nodded and your father brought your intended into a hearty embrace.

The wedding took place a day later in an extremely private function.

Not even a month after which, Geto received his transfer orders to some remote town by the sea.

And giving you a set of barely-intelligible, insultingly-perfunctory reasons, more like 'excuses', as to why you couldn't accompany him; you're his wife, for goodness' sake; he dropped you off at your in-laws' in the countryside—people who hadn't even deigned to attend their only son's wedding—

You don't dislike them, though.

You dislike your husband.

The man who, by marrying you, has made himself an angel donning a mortal skin, a person too good for the likes of anyone and everyone; most certainly, much too good for you.

The man who, by leaving you barely thirty days into your conjugal life, has made you even viler in the eyes of others than you can ever imagine it to be possible, believe it should be possible.

The man who has visited his home, his wife, only a handful of times in the last one year, that too only for a handful of hours each time, never staying for more than one day and the next morning.

The man who doesn't care enough to reply to your letters, let alone send you any, only sending his father enough money to feed a village and a curt letter saying he's well on the third day of every month, the words devoid of even the smallest mention of the person he married and brought to his home—

If one says you hate Geto, you will simply nod in response and not breathe one word in disagreement, you think as you wrap the blanket tighter round your shivering form and stare at the waning crescent in the pitch-black sky.

It's lonely.

The moon is rather lonely, you reckon, a faint frown creeping onto your lips...

But definitely not as acutely, as painfully as you are—

After all, the moon hasn't been forsaken by its friends, parents and husband, has it?

The moon isn't forced to endure pitiful glances and scathing glares throughout the day, is it?

The moon need not spend night after night, either sleepless or seeing nightmares where it is abandoned in an entirely new way, tossed aside in an incomparably worse way by others—does it?

No.

You suppose not.

A pathetic little sigh escapes you as you force yourself to relax beneath the warm weight of the blanket, gaze soon drifting from the sky outside the window to your hands, to the pretty little diamond sitting on your left hand—only to stiffen when you hear a pair of feet pad into the kitchen—

"Do you have a fever?" A familiar voice rings out, so sleepy yet so worried, so kind—that too for you out of all the people the concern could be for—you can't help but become a touch misty-eyed.

It's your mother-in-law.

Sometimes, you think she's the only person you won't mind calling family.

The only person who, you don't think you're wrong when thinking, won't mind you calling them family.

Trying to hide a sniffle, you shake your head, lips shifting into a small smile on their own when you can finally discern her in the almost darkness, "Um, no. I'm totally fine, thank you."

"Alright," she doesn't press you any more, choosing to pour herself a glass of water instead. You look away from her, focus shuffling away to rest on the orange lights of the distant houses and huts against the blue backdrop of the night, when a quiet call of your name reaches you.

You turn back, only to find your mother-in-law wearing a knowing smile. She suddenly looks a lot older than you know she actually is—you wonder how your mother is faring—

Is she happy now that her shame of a daughter is away and no longer besmirching the spotless reputation of the family? Or, does she miss her first child, her 'sunshine', living so many miles away from her?

You know better than to ponder over such questions; yeah, you know you do.

"Yes, Mother?" you ask; the aftertaste of the last word not as sour as it used to be in the early days of your marriage, you register absently all the while wondering why her smile appears to grow when you call her thus, "Is—"

"I've raised Suguru to be brave and true-hearted," she says, and you cannot help the way your form grows rigid at the mere mention of his name—nor the burn settling behind your eyes nor how your throat clogs up, words dying far before they're fully formed when the remainder of the sentence clicks into place in your brain—"He will return to you, darling. I'm sure of it."

Hours from now, you will wonder why your mother-in-law is telling you all this.

You will wonder why she thinks your sleepless nights are because of her son, especially when you haven't breathed even a syllable of your distress to anyone; least of all, to her.

You will wonder why she sounds so sure while she's reassuring you of your husband's return.

Hours from now, you will tear your brain apart and put the pieces back together, in search for answers to these and so many more questions.

But now, in this moment, you don't think.

You screw your eyes shut and bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, trying your damnedest not to cry—until you decide you're much too wounded, too too weary to put up a good front—

And you cry, and you cry, and you cry.

general masterlist

#geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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themaxbox · 9 months ago

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OKAY SO LIKE KING FALLS AM BROKE MY HEART AND NOT HOW A STORY IS SUPPOSED TO

To actually answer your original question, Anon, I personally would not go back and finish King Falls AM if I were you. That's weird advice for me to give, but it's probably for the best. If you are about two thirds of the way through, you are standing right on the tipping point (Episode 68) of the podcast. On one hand, I feel like if you haven't listened to 68, you don't fully understand the show or one of the central characters. On the other, once you listen to 68, you have very little choice but to see all 100 episodes through, and that *will* leave you feeling disappointed and empty.

For more context- WITH POST 68 SPOILERS- here's my full opinion on this podcast I adored.

Like my header image in a KFAM quote ya'll. I'm so mad with the direction this podcast went.

So Sammy Stevens is a closeted gay man who came to King Falls from the city because his supernatural-obsessed fiance was talking about this place before he vanished into thin air. It is a twist that contextualizes a LOT and rips the "Who is Sammy Stevens?" mystery wide open while tearing a hole in your heart. I love that episode. I love that SCENE. Being outed live on air is treated with the gravity it deserves, and Sammy's sudden vulnerability and Ben's unwavering, unchanging compassion and loyalty... MAN. *man.* It's ART.

It almost makes you forget that they're rehashing the most iconic plotline in the story up until this point, but worse.

Listen, the Save Emily plotline was cliche and often spun it's gears without going anywhere, but at least it was pushed forward by Ben Motherfucking Arnold. At least while Emily was missing, we still got some pretty iconic jokes and levity. And when we did turn our focus to Emily and the Rainbow Lights, Ben's desperation was tinted with just as much HOPE as it was pain. This is the podcast that said "Bad times are tough but not tougher than me" with it's whole fucking chest. Hope was the name of the game. Accomplishing the impossible through love was the POINT. When everything is going wrong, there were always jokes, a sense of community, and BEN SHOOTING A UFO OUT OF THE FUCKING SKY.

But when we shift to the "Let's save Sammy's missing boyfriend, Jack" plotline, things get hard to swallow. The show focuses a lot on Sammy's mental state- which is FAIR- but not really why so many people who loved the show are here. Because the levity was gone. The hope was gone. Sammy was giving up. I say episode 68 was the turning point, but the real shift happened in 75. When Ben and Emily FINALLY getting together is immediately undercut by Sammy trying to throw himself into the fucking void. We can't bask in it FINALLY happening because these episodes are dedicated to Sammy Being Sad Forever.

Look. There are ways to write about depression that work. This was not it. KFAM always had a lot of heart. It was comedic and hopeful to it's bones. Until it wasn't. Until suddenly the characters don't believe in doing the impossible for love anymore. It got so nihilistic in a way that did not feel like it was ever going to let up.

And now it won't.

See, none of this would be a problem if the story pulled itself out of it's hole. Maybe this time period was supposed to be rock bottom before once again hammering home the "love prevails" message. Maybe we were a handful of episodes from the return of old running gags and bright banter even in dark times. But we will never find out. Because Episode 100 killed off a long-term character, and Jack is clearly possessed or some shit. And then the show was cancelled.

There was an outcry when episode 100 came out that it was homophobic, and while I hesitate to go that far, I can see why large swaths of queer fans felt personally betrayed. I personally think it's coincidence that the gay love story takes place during the show's "misery-porn" era, but like, it still hurts to use a queer romance as a punching bag in that way. I defended KFAM from those who claimed that the "Ben shoots a fucking UFO out of the air for the power of love" show would bury their gays, but now that the show is never getting an ending, that's exactly what happened. Sammy Stevens will not get his happy ending. Life was worth fighting for, and then everything felt hopeless, and then the creators split due to "artistic differences" and we end... here.

That's not the good kind of tragic. That just sucks. I loved KFAM. Do yourself a favor and dont listen to it.

(Also. I listened to this stuff in high school. And the older I get the more I don't have it in me to see the people who made their only canonically Jewish character Ben "King Falls Christmas" Arnold as like... creative role models. That's just one example of a laundry list of lazy and dismissive treatment of minorities in the show. Like once again the writers LOVE their characters and I don't think they ever did anything to be malicious, but their level of laziness and lack of care does contribute to me not wanting to recc this to people. I didn't want to tack this on at the end like an afterthought, but I didn't want to not mention it at all, and the point of this was to give more of my two cents on the final 1/3rd of the show's writing, not on the flaws of the show overall).

sorry to bother but i saw ur tag about king falls am and not having it in u to recc it to others and now i am curious !! i remember listening to like two thirds of it and then forgetting it existed cause life - is it worth going back to?

I have no idea how long this has been in my askbox, so sorry about that lmao XD

And look. I loved KFAM. I still do. It meant the world to me at ome point, and I had the phrase "Bad times are tough but not tougher than me" on a self made poster on my wall, right next to the actual offical poster. But at a certain point (in the episodes following 68) it lost a lot of it's hope. It became a depressing slog. The space between mystery set-ups and pay-offs were growing shorter, which to me is always a sign of a show that is having to make things up as they go more and more often. Plus signs of trouble behind the scenes that slipped into the podcast in little ways.

EDIT: I was late to clock into work typing out a bunch of thoughts that I said really poorly so like. Stand by for my full "what went wrong with KFAM" thoughts when I get off work lmao.

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