#while leaving room for interpretation and not getting stuck on the content!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I have thoughts about the TTPD speculation/two years/loneliness/sharing feelings through songs train but I'm putting them under a cut because. Yeah.

OK, so I'm giving a warning:

I'm talking about BTTWS, but NOT about the speculation/inspiration behind it. Just about the feelings in it and the Midnights of it all/the idea that sharing the difficult things brings comfort/companionship. So getting that out of the way so we can remove that part of the discourse out of it.

Regardless of whatever the inspiration/event behind BTTWS may be, whether it's about a loved one or personal, I've long felt that its inclusion on Midnights, an album about things that have kept her up at night, is significant in the feelings it portrays.

For instance, we can be fairly certain that Taylor wasn't actually turning in Scooter B. to the FBI and conspiring with his ex-wife to bring him down (or was she?) in Vigilante Shit, just as we can safely guess that she probably did actually pick up that pebble in Wicklow that reminded her of a peaceful time in Sweet Nothing. The line between fiction/reality, personal vs. narrative matters less on Midnights in this case than the feelings she was expressing in the songs, which are very personal and truthful. The revenge fantasy in Vigilante Shit is her working through her anger over having her masters sold and how she's fought hard to have the last laugh over someone who is a sworn enemy. Sweet Nothing is her reflecting on the dichotomy of her (presumed) quiet home life she felt was safe and the noise of the outside world. (Now, we might speculate on why she was ruminating on this, but that's another story.)

So with that preamble out of the way, BTTWS's inclusion in the tracklist I feel is just as important, again regardless of the inspiration behind it or her personal connection to it. Even if it is a song about someone other than herself, including it as the only "not personal/not diaristic" song on an album as ostensibly self-reflective as Midnights would stick out if that were thecase, though obviously it's her album so she can do whatever she wants and could have her own reasons. (Just like she included Ronan on Red and Soon You'll Get Better on Lover about similar themes, it could just be a tribute to a loved one.) But given all the thematic arcs and parallels on Midnights, I do feel like it's there to include a specific set of feelings being processed, even if the origin on the feelings may or may not be her own. (I'm trying to be really sensitive in my word choices here, hope they make sense.)

BTTWS is a song about loss and grief, and specifically the fallout of an event outside of her/the narrator's control. The person in the song has nothing to turn to to deal with their pain: no faith to guide them, no wisdom to tell them everything will be alright. Throughout the song there is a pervasive sense of isolation: everything is over, they're living without something that was once theirs but suddenly was not. It captures the fog and confusion of living through a painful event without having any way to process. She even says from the start that, "no words appear before me in the aftermath," which for someone like Taylor who has stated over and over how writing is literally how she processes her life would be the ultimate reflection of the depths of her hurt.

(To be clear I do not think this is a song about a breakup whatsoever: IMO it clearly is not about a relationship dissolution of any kind. I just think that the feelings of grief and loneliness in the song may have felt relevant to whatever she was going through during the time the album was coalescing in 2021-22.)

Knowing what we know now about at the very least the period between 2021-2023, Taylor was going through a time of significant difficulty in her life behind the scenes, which is how The Tortured Poets Department came to be, right on the heels of her completing Midnights sometime in early 2022. She has said herself that making TTPD was a lifeline, that she had to keep writing to deal with whatever it was that she was experiencing and going through. And as I posted about earlier today, she's also said repeatedly on tour that not only is writing about her feelings how she processes her pain and loneliness, but that then sharing that music with fans brings her great comfort because it makes her feel less lonely to know people understand and relate to what she's going through.

And we know that she has self-edited her albums over the years (including Midnights) to protect herself and perhaps even the subjects of her songs, which we have seen with the inclusion of the vault/bonus tracks in the re-records and on Midnights. Obviously some of these reasons are logistical -- album was too long, cut songs sounded too much like others, maybe she or her producers felt the ones that were originally chosen were stronger, narrative or sonic cohesion, etc. -- but with what we've seen over the last few years, these songs also filled in the lines of the stories being told and reframed the narrative being told.

Nowhere is that clearer than with You're Losing Me, for example. It's pretty obvious why it was held back: presumably she wouldn't want to release a song about a relationship at its breaking point when she was still actively in the relationship. Yet as soon as the relationship ended, she released it, we can only assume because of her realization that sharing the music and having people respond to it validates her feelings and makes her feel embraced, as it were. Then with the announcement of TTPD and how it's been brewing for essentially the intervening period between when YLM was written and now, we can also surmise that these songs will be dealing with feelings she also felt the need to hold back for whatever reason at the time, but has now decided should be out there so she can feel more whole.

So coming back to BTTWS, it being included on Midnights the way that it was strikes me as a form of sharing feelings that may have been too difficult to process. Again, not implying I have any insight into what the origin of the song is about, or imposing my own beliefs onto her, or that she was sending some sort of secret message with its inclusion! But thematically, BTTWS deals with an intense loss and feeling completely unmoored and alone as a result, which is present in her other work. And that the dreams the narrator once held have gone up in smoke, leaving her reeling about what's to come next. She's cut off from the world because of the event, unable to speak about or grasp what has happened. Similar feelings are also explored in You're Losing Me for instance, and even Dear Reader (not to mention on past albums like evermore, this is me trying, arguably hoax, etc.). Just reading context clues from TTPD and her surprise song choices of late, I don't think it's outrageous to presume some of those emotions are going to be present on the new album as well.

So this is just a long-winded way of saying, I feel like the sense of loss, confusion and uncertainty about the future likely resonated with both what she had gone through in the past, and the story as a whole she was trying to tell on Midnights. And while the origin may or may not be personal or relevant to the new story she's going to tell, I also feel like these same kinds of themes are going to be present on TTPD because they're so important for her to share. (I could even mention that the response to BTTWS may even provide evidence that people sharing their experiences in general brings comfort to those going through it, but that may be veering too far into parasocial "why did Taylor do X" speculative territory.) She sings about these kinds of all-consuming losses so eloquently and mindfully that I know the new album is going to be an absolute gut punch.

(not being self-promotional but I delved a little deeper into the Midnights 3am tracks including this one a few months ago so it's why it's top of mind and why the connections and thematic parallels are so resonant to me lately.)

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hey Jalebi. How are you? I discovered your blog last year while rewatching IPKKND. Your and Phati-Sari's blogs are my favorite. Both of your blogs were really helpful in clearing some of my confusions that I always had regarding the show.

As you recently answered a question regarding Lavanya. I wanted to ask you a question about Lavanya's track. You don't have to answer if you have already answered it before. I couldn't find anything regarding this in the blog so I am asking. I recently re watched those episode where La n Arnav had their first break up and then he brought her back. I couldn't understand what Arnav was thinking bringing her back to his house. Cause from their previous argument it was obvious their relationship has changed. Even though when they started the relationship they were both on the same page. Now they both want different things from the relationship. Lavanya wouldn't have settled for anything less than marriage and Arnav wouldn't marry her. So they did the right thing by breaking up. But when he brought her back, I am sure it only raised La's hope and his family's too. La and his family thought that he must have changed his decision about marraige. But that wasn't the case. His and Lavanya's relationship was stuck in a loop, there was no going forward unless he wants to marry her. So why did he even brought her back when he clearly wasn't thinking about marraige? What was he planning to do exactly?

Btw I am glad to find someone who has same opinion as me about BD. I thought I was the only one who didn't enjoy the show. It's really sad though because I loved Barun n Ridhi in Asur and was really excited to watch them in a romantic show. But I felt they had more chemistry in Asur than this show. How did you find Kohrra?

Hello Anon!

Thank you for the love <3 <3 <3

Regarding Arnav and Lavanya; Arnav brought her back for two reasons - for Khushi and his family. The wonderful thing about IPK is that it's never direct, it's not going to spoon-feed you what every character is feeling so the audience gets a lot of room to interpret everything.

In my opinion, bringing back La showed Khushi that Arnav does have a heart

and his family was distressed without La. Apart from Nani - whose opinion Arnav doesn't really care about - everyone loves La and Arnav is actually content seeing his family at piece as now La and his family have become a unit.

Anjali comes up to Arnav and tells him one thing - "I'm so happy you did this Chote," and that means everything for Arnav - his Di's happiness.

But he is incredibly conflicted with Khushi's tears because he did what she wanted and she's still hurt, and yes - Arnav and La's relationship had irreparable damage and you can see from this point onwards Arnav has no commitment - nothing - towards La. Also this is the point where he actively begins to emotionally cheat on her.

He's more concerned about Khushi, his world starts revolving around her. La just doesn't exist. Up until this point La was an active person in his life. Even in their argument they're fighting like a couple and post the breakup everything disappears between Arnav and La.

They don't talk. They don't fight. They don't laugh... nothing.

And Lavanya panics, she knows everything has changed - she panics further when Khushi decides to leave because Khushi being here is a reminder that Lavanya is being 'groomed' to be a bahu - without Khushi, La needs to face the reality of being a part of this family without a buffer and actually being Mrs. Arnav Singh Raizada. Which is a cold, empty identity of being a man's wife who is invested in... nothing.

But still, love makes one choose the worst decisions and she decided to still come back because at least she's in Arnav's house. It's a sad decision.

For Arnav, marriage with Lavanya is a practical decision and it would've ultimately been that. Lavanya truly loves the family and vice versa (he's genuinely happy seeing both parties care for each other) and it puts Nani away from his back and Lavanya is someone who understands Arnav (even though he no longer understands himself).

So it's a perfect compromise (he doesn't realize how shitty he is as a partner until it's too late - he jolts into reality when during Satyanarayan Puja La was happy because he didn't yell at her and it's a slap on his face on wtf is he as a partner).

And yeah, Kohrra was fab! Just really some solid storytelling tbh.

Best,

Jalebi

[moss-the-irishman]

Thanks for answering this, don't worry about the time it took to respond. If we're going to talk about factors for bias, I'm a white Irish queer non-binary Aroace with autism (I don't know if the last part is relevant, but still). And I'm Gen Z. Essay under the cut:

While I don't know much about feeling extreme gender dysphoria beyond I know I'm a guy/male to a certain degree, but I'm not cis either, I agree with you that if Percy were to be a trans boy, he would have had to transition early on, and like you said, while it is not impossible for a trans person to start really wanting to transition quite early, the urge to change their gender can hit somebody at any point in their life, and if Percy got that urge early on, i.e. before The Lightning Thief, it would have made some notable changes in canon.

For example, when Percy was at Yancy Academy, he was put into a boy's dorm room. If Percy was a trans boy who hadn't transitioned from female, then that would have caused some problems. If they (As in Percy and Sally) decided not to tell the Yancy school board that Percy was actually a boy who was just born in a girl's body, then he would get put in the girl's dormitory, which would leave Percy feeling miserable and dysphoric. If they did try tell that to the school, then they would have risked getting judged by the board members, because as you said before, in the original point in time that the PJO books took place (2005-2010), transgender identities were barely understood then, let alone respected. Even if the board decided to let Percy be situated in the boys dorm room, he might have gotten badly bullied by the other boys in there, who didn't understand/believe the "boy stuck in a girl's a body" story (Unless Grover protected him from those bullies), which leads into my next point.

Finance. Given the money situation at home in TLT, I don't think Percy would have been able to transition (medically) to male before the events of the books. Sally worked as a candy store worker, which paid well enough if I remember correctly, but also, if I remember correctly, Smelly Gabe was the one in charge of handling the money at home, and we know that he spent most of their funds on gambling, alcohol, and cigars. Let's say if Percy was AFAB, and he and Sally found this out some time after Gabe came into the picture, they wouldn't have been able to afford transitional surgery/HRT because of Walrus man's spending routine.

And while we're talking about Mr. Ugliano, without getting to much into it, knowing him, he would most likely not show a lick, a shred of respect towards Percy's identity if he was told about it. Percy was able to piece together that Gabe was physically abusive towards Sally while Percy wasn't there after he saw him raise his and at her in warning near the end of TLT. Even if Gabe didn't outright do stuff like deadname Percy (at least in front of Sally), that probably would have been a point of contention between the both of them. However, in canon, when Percy comes back the their apartment, and is made to fork up the money he has in his pockets, he says something about hoping Gabe loses that money he gave him, and Gabe retorts, "Yeah, well your report card came back earlier, so I wouldn't try making any funny comments, Brain Boy!". This indicates that Gabe sees and commonly refers to Percy as a boy, which he probably wouldn't if he knew Percy wasn't a boy from the moment he was born.

With all of that being said though, you're also right that it's not outside the realm of possibility at all that Percy could be trans. Everyone has their own interpretations of Percy's gender, and I say Headcanon and Let Headcanon. I know I just wrote a whole essay about how I think Percy is AMAB, but if anyone sees this, you can go ahead and ignore all these facts I lead out and do you own thing. This is just my take and not everyone will agree with me. And that's okay. I like seeing trans headcanons for Percy. Just that my default for him is AMAB.

By the way @aki-bara, here's a link to a post I reblogged about someone who has four different versions of their headcanon for Percy's gender (The fourth one is well funny lmao)

also going to tag @pain-is-too-tired, who also thinks Percy wouldn't really worry about his gender identity that much.

A while ago, I made a small headcanon about Percy Jackson being Cassgender, and I'm only realizing now that your reply of "Send It" had meant you actually wanted me to elaborate. Lol my mistake, at least I'm here now.

I don't really think Percy really cares all that much about his gender identity, most of the time he uses He/Him and doesn't mind being called They/Them or other pronouns either.

I have been agonizing a little bit about about what I think his assigned gender at birth is though. When I first read the books, I interpreted him as AMAB (Since I am), but transmasc Percy is a very popular headcanon here on tumblr, and I've often found it rotating around in my head. I don't say that I dislike it, or that I disagree with it, I just hadn't thought about it before hearing about it. Do you have any strong opinions about what you think Percy's AGAB is? You seem like a good person to ask.

There's nothing I would love to do more than talk about Percy Jackson's gender identity. This ask is such a gift. Thank you. Before I share my opinion, let's talk about my biases. I am a white queer USAmerican. I'm also a millennial. Okay, glad we got that out of the way.

Anywho. I'll admit I don't personally see Percy as being AFAB.

By the time the books start Percy is 11, and his identity as a boy among his peers is well established. If he was AFAB this means he would have had to transition before the beginning of this book. And for that to occur he would (likely) need to have a strong desire to transition from a young age.

It's definitely not impossible for people to feel strongly about their gender identity from a young age. I'm not trying to suggest it is impossible!

But given everything we know about Gabe, and given that transidentities weren't something many people discussed or had knowledge of I think it is unlikely Percy would have felt comfortable discussing transitioning at home even if he did feel strongly about it. I think even if he did talk about it, Sally would have had to weigh his safety at home with Gabe against the benefits of being "out" and though I don't doubt she would support Percy's transition and stand up to Gabe for him if she understood how important it was to him... It would have changed a lot of stuff about his home life, so I just find it unlikely for thay reason.

It's definitely not impossible! And I'm not trying to tell anyone what their interpretation of Percy's gender should be

I think it's really cool how varied everyone's interpretations of the characters are and think there's so much value in seeing all these different ideas of who Percy is! This is just my personal opinion and explanation for why it's not my specific headcanon.

Actually, like you, I see Percy as being someone who doesn't give much thought to his gender identity. But my explanation of that and what I do think of his gender got SUPER LONG so I'm going to finish talking about it in a seperate post.

@irishskeptic Sorry it took me a while to answer. I have a really hard time organize my thoughts in a written format sometimes, but I really appreciate you letting me share my opinion on this. Thank you!

[shiny-jr]

why are you in my apartment? (II)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge, Malleus Draconia.

Summary: Everything was supposed to be better when you got your own apartment to call home. So when you got home one day, why was was there some weird guys in your home?

Note: I know I tend to leave the relationships up to interpretation and not divulge into it too much, but know that Ortho’s part is NOT romantic. His part is purely platonic, more like he’s seeking another sibling relationship/dynamic. Whenever I wrote for Ortho, it will always be platonic, it will NEVER be romantic. [ Added ] FINALLY. It’s finished. I feel like it’s way longer than the first part despite there being the same amount of characters and trying to keep the content amount the same. On google docs it says it’s about thirty-four pages. Please, I really hope you guys like this one because I worked hard on it and it took a while. Plus I kept getting stuck on parts. 

Previous: why are you in my apartment? (I)

You worked and saved to be able to live in a spacious apartment in the downtown area. The buildings had decent security, the apartment itself was in a low-crime area, and there were a bunch of stores nearby for the basic necessities, not to mention you worked from home half the time and the other time work was just a few blocks away. Everything was perfect...! Until it wasn’t. Your seemingly perfect life was thrown completely off balance when you returned home and found your door unlocked.

Like any reasonable person, you were worried. Were you just forgetful this morning or had someone broken in...? Not wanting to call authorities right away and make a fool of yourself if you had forgotten to lock your door today, you carefully proceeded inside, with your phone gripped in hand and your makeshift key weapon in the other hand. Steadily you crept inside, looking left and right, your heart rate accelerating as you noticed a few things out of place. A remote controller not on the coffee table, a blanket you forgot to fold now folded neatly-- Just then, you heard voices and footsteps, and when the strangers entered your line of vision, you screamed as they jumped in surprise and exclaimed,

“W-Wait!”

SCARABIA

Incense...? Why did your apartment smell like lit incense and expensive perfume? You didn’t leave any incense and you didn’t have whatever type of perfume made the place smell nice–– The room was cleaned. On the living room table was a golden tray filled with neatly packaged and wrapped snacks and even a small box of golden accessories. It almost looked like a greeting gift someone left... If someone really left this, that would explain the whining and scolding coming from further inside. When you heard the voices and footsteps grow louder, a white-haired young man wearing lots of accessories appeared from the kitchen.

Coming face to face with a stranger in your own home was certainly a shock.

It was more of the negative kind of shock when you saw this white-haired stranger smile brightly and their eyes widen as they ran towards you with their arms wide open as he exclaimed with such pure excitement, “Ah–– It’s you! You’re finally here!! I’m so excited to meet you! I’ve wanted to see you forever––”

Of course, any logical person would not be as happy at this guy was. Stepping back, you held up the sharp end of your keys and reached back for the door––

Thunk!

A hand firmly kept the door shut, and before you could even think of swinging or screaming, there was another firm but gentle hand on your arm to prevent you from using those keys to slash at anyone. This second man must’ve appeared when you were distracted.

He had long dark hair and wore a hoodie. Whoever he was, he seemed to sense you distress, because he sent his companion a look. “Wait–– sorry about him scaring you. Can you lower those keys, please? I’ll explain everything.”

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this duo of students claimed to be from the Scarabia dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Scarabia gang, hm?

Jamil Viper 

If he can handle not just the dorm but also duties at home including his normal responsibilities with Kalim, he can take care of you and your apartment. 

What’s he usually doing in the apartment? Well, to be fair, he is the one mainly keeping the place together. But when he isn’t busy, he’s taken a great interest in the dances and locations of this new world. Really he seems to enjoy learning about this world firsthand by exploring. 

It’s not rare for him to join you. In fact, you welcome it. Jamil is great company, and he’s always there to save you and Kalim from your own mistakes. Anywhere you go, Jamil is there to accompany you to help, he insists, but it might just be because he actually enjoys your company more than he’d like to admit. 

Funnily enough, he’s been offered various jobs by restaurants but refuses them all. Apparently they had a taste of his cooking and now want him to be a cook for their business. Although it is kind of funny to see Jamil repeatedly turn them down but accept their free dishes only for him to give them to you and Kalim. When asked why he won’t accept one job, he says it’s because he’s already busy enough as it is. But Kalim guesses its that Jamil doesn’t want to give up any free time he could spend with you. 

That’s right, Jamil does so much. He can do practically everything from cooking, to cleaning, the laundry, the dishes, buying groceries–– but there’s one thing he can’t do. Whatever you do, do not ask him to get rid of a bug. He’s probably more scared of it than you are. A bug got into the kitchen once and a mess was made by him trying to get away from it. Then all hell broke loose when the insect started flying. 

Oh, but don’t believe he’s all “good guy” playing the role of househusband. Huh, that’s so weird... the apartment owner just informed you that your rent was lowering. Just yesterday when you went shopping with Jamil, the store clerk gave you a huge discount. And last week, that annoying boss of yours suddenly gave you a promotion. But they all had this empty look in their eyes and spoke in monotoned voices... When you confronted Jamil about this, he calmly claimed to know nothing about those instances. 

Of course he missed you, but he isn’t as openly desperate as others may be. Did he miss you, you ask? He’ll smile and reply cooly maybe. Yeah, he totally missed you. Why do you think the house is spotless now? He was trying to take his mind off you through chores again. 

Yes, your vessel, Yuu, was a pawn he could use in the beginning. Well, he was right about one thing, about you being a diamond in the rough. There was really no one else like you in Twisted Wonderland. 

Seeing you before him, the true you, was nothing less than a shock. You, who’s vessel he used and tormented and eventually came to treasure, were here. For now matter how much his heart was picking up speed and now many thoughts raced through his head, he had to keep calm for you. 

When he heard rapid footsteps and Kalim’s eager exclamation, he warned himself to prepare for what lay ahead. Ignoring the calm feeling this strange space brought him, he immediately appeared in the scene of the commotion. Deep down, he held hope, he had a feeling, an idea of where he may be. All his worries seemingly vanished when you came into his line of vision, and he relaxed. It was you... and you weren’t a threat. A tiny bit anxious, really excited, even confused, there was so much going on but he forced himself to remain level-headed and he quickly approached you and held you back from attacking. It was you, really you, so real he could touch you! Hold on–– he had to keep calm and hold up appearances. This way he could be a trustworthy figure in your eyes. 

“Did you need something? You know I’m at your service... Hm? You want me to take a break? There’s no need. Besides, I’m used to doing this much, but I appreciate the sentiment. Now then, I couldn’t help but overhear you complain about a rude neighbor to Kalim. I can divine a solution to this... thorny problem if you just tell me their name.”

Kalim Al-Asim 

Woah, what a small place you got! Is this really comfortable? Even his room back home was bigger than the whole apartment! Don’t worry, he’ll make this place fun and comfy! 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Well, besides sticking to you 90% of the time, he’ll do anything you ask or copy you. Cleaning? He’ll help! Watching TV? Ohh, can he sit next to you? Going out for the day? Cool! He’ll get Jamil and all three of you can go out together! 

Like we just established, Kalim will follow you anywhere! Doesn’t matter if it’s just stepping out to the vending machine or going several blocks away, he’ll gladly keep you company. Plus, here in your world, he’s not known as the heir of a fabulously wealthy merchant family, meaning no one’s trying to harm him and Jamil has more free time too! 

While he may not be the best at chores like Jamil, he does really try his best...! Well, he has his other uses. He’s not just the heir to the Asim family name for any old reason. Believe it or not, Kalim is surprisingly good with money. That means he pays the bills, for gifts, for supplies, etc. And not even out of your pocket! He had on so much gold when he got here, he happily sold a piece or two to pay you back for your hospitality and now you don’t have to pay a thing for months! How much was that stuff he sold even worth...? Wait a moment, when did you get these expensive portraits on the wall and these brand clothes? 

You know how I said he’s beside you almost 24/7? Yeah, when you’re not working from home, those are the worst days for him. Jamil has to always keep an eye on him because if not, Kalim will march over to your office for a “surprise visit!” But when you get home after your shift, you’ll be greeted by the warmest smile from him as he practically jumps on you for a hug. 

Local “good boy,” too. The neighbors adore him because he’s just so sweet and kind. Even the kids seem to love playing with him, so he’ll be on the playground with them as you and Jamil sit on the benches. It’s because of Kalim that you met nearly every person living in the apartment complex, and somehow you got their favor because of the sunshine guy that’s your roommate. Also he’s the “bug handler,” meaning he cheerfully picks up any bugs that snuck in and bids them goodbye at the window or door. 

Kalim misses you way too much when you’re not home. It’s why Jamil is in charge of holding the phone, because if it were up to Kalim, he’d have you on call nearly your entire shift. But just know that even though he doesn’t like you having to go to work, he knows it’s important and he’s really proud you’re working so hard! 

Are you kidding? Your vessel, Yuu, is one of his best friends! He’s taken good care of them! Have you noticed? He loves your vessel, but he loves you way more! 

All logic went out the window as soon as he saw you. Immediately he became overwhelmed by emotion, he felt so much joy and utter excitement come bursting forth! All he could do was express his pure delight! 

Truthfully, Kalim hadn’t expected to see you! He was oblivious to where he was, unsure what would happen. But when he saw you–– all uncertainty and confusion disappeared. Immediately he threw his arms open wide as a large beaming smile broke onto his face, his eyes were practically glimmering with such excitement as he eagerly exclaimed any words that came to mind. It was you, it was you, it was you! He was just so so happy, happy didn’t even being to describe it. Words couldn’t explain the pure amount of glee he was feeling, it was practically oozing out of him in waves as his heart beat rapidly. His heart beat just for you, beating against his ribcage as if it wanted to reach you too, just like how he wished to embrace you! 

“You’re home!!! Ahah, I missed you so much!! How was work? Are you tired? Are you hungry? You must be hungry! Let’s eat now! I helped Jamil make dinner today, and your favorite tea! Hold on, I got your coat and bag! Jamil, they’re home!! Tell us everything! I’m so happy you’re back, I could just kiss you!”

As a whole...

Scarabia always makes sure to spoil you rotten, and they’re only two people so it’s not overwhelming. On one hand, you have one more level-headed roommate who would do anything in the world for you, one the other hand you have an easily excitable roommate who will give you anything in the world! Expect gifts and feasts galore from them, even welcome home parties after a simple day at work. The day could be calm and peaceful or it can be fun and activity-filled, just tell them what you want. Whatever you want, whatever you may need, they’ll happily give it to you. For your hospitality they’ll pay you back tenfold with material items, their time, and their affection. You trust them, don’t you?

POMEFIORE 

Perfume...? Why did your entire apartment smell of expensive perfume and scented candles? Was that the smell of lavender and apples...? You didn’t even own any candles scented like that. All your coats were hung neatly, the shoes you left by the door were organized, it looked like someone had just cleaned your apartment. On the living room table was a basket of shiny red apples, as if someone left it behind for you. All of this would explain the talk coming from another room. There were light footsteps, you couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or walking somewhere else, until a figure appeared from the hallway–– A short and pretty young man with lavender hair and big blue eyes stopped in his tracks. 

Upon seeing each other, you both froze seemingly in shock. You were horrified that some stranger got in your home, he seemed thunderstruck for some other reason you didn’t know. 

Shaking off the shock, the young man lifted his hand towards you, his blue eyes wide with disbelief as he muttered, “It... I... You... Hah–– They weren’t kiddin’... You’re actually real? This isn’t some cruel little dream or curse? You––”

Leaning back to avoid his touch, you held up the sharp end of your keys as you eyed him warily, “B-Back off pretty boy, I’m armed...! I–– Oof...!”

That... That wasn’t the door behind you. Your wrist wielding the keys was gripped firmly but gently, and you shrieked in fright when you looked up to see a blonde man behind you. When did he get there...?!

His green eyes peered down at you but his smile on his expression broke into surprise at your reaction as he used his other hand to make a shushing motion. “Shhh, shush, dear one, there’s no need to fear! Please wait, calm yourself. Forgive us for the intrusion!... Ahhh, it’s truly an immense honor, it’s a blessing from the heavens above, to be in your presence! Forgive me...! I’ve wanted to observe your grace ever since the moment I began to worship you...!” 

Worship? Wait... was this guy tearing up? “Are you... crying?”

“None of this will do! The whole wardrobe will need to be replaced, furniture will need to be bought, and groceries will be purchased for the refrigerator and pantry. How could anyone live like this? They deserve better! Especially for––” Another tall beautiful blonde man in heels came from the hallway, but his rambling stopped and his amethyst eyes widened once they landed on you, his breath hitching. “...You...” He appeared at a loss for words and he slowly stepped closer, afraid of scaring you off. Carefully his touch grazed over your cheek, apprehensive, as if the slightest contact would shatter you and you’d be gone. Snapping out of his self-induced trance, he retracted his hand quickly and added, “I apologize sincerely, my dear, you must be terribly confused. Please, allow me to explain.” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this trio of students claimed to be from the Pomefiore dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here?

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Pomefiore gang, hm?

Epel Felmier 

Just to even be allowed to stay with you has made him incredibly happy, so he’ll do everything in his power to help out! You can rely on him! 

What’s he up to in the apartment? Actually, he’s usually out. After completing chores, he’ll go out. He doesn’t like staying cooped up inside all the time, so it’s normal to find him trying to work out in the nearby park or with the garden he made on the roof of the apartment complex. Also, he’s interested by this world’s sports, especially American football. Look at all those strong guys playing a tough sport!! 

Epel is a bit of the jealous type, so he greatly treasures any time alone you spend with him and he tries to keep it to just you and him. His favorite activities with you are working on his garden, making goods from the products he grew by hand and proudly presented to you, and taking you when Vil and Rook are distracted to ride around town on this motorcycle! Yeah, don’t ask him where he got a whole motorcycle from.

He knows he doesn’t have much to offer to pay you back, so he does what he can. Making deliveries on his motorcycle, selling his garden’s products, maybe even winning bets by secretly racing, plus he begrudgingly joins in on Rook and Vil’s... work, whenever he can get paid from it or when Vil pressures him to do it. But, at the end of his day, all his handwork’s earnings go to you. Just take it, he’s not going to let you refuse! 

Really, he just wants to appear responsible and reliable in your eyes, that’s why he willingly does a lot of chores too. No task is too big or too small! Leave him a grocery list and he’s off to go buy and carry everything back himself! You mentioned how you wanted to clean the rooms, so he took it upon himself to deep clean the apartment! What else do you want him to do? 

Don’t let his adorable looks fool you. He’s a bit protective of you. Well, the other two are as well, but Epel is more openly hostile about it. He knows when to keep up appearances though. If he can guilt trip harassers or creeps with his looks alone so they stop bothering you, great. However, if that doesn’t do the trick, well... Let’s just say that he nearly caused a scene by sucker-punching a rando who cat-called you on the streets once. You two managed to get away but Epel was absolutely fuming. He wasn’t scolded by you or Vil because he defended you, but he was still mad he couldn’t “give ‘em hell.” 

Oh, he misses you fairly often. Like mentioned before, he gets jealous. Don’t your coworkers realize how lucky they are, getting to work with you all day? You’ll hear him mumble complaints like that often, but he won’t say anything out loud unless you prompt him to do so. Ease him into a good mood again by simply holding his hand, he enjoys holding onto you like this whenever you let him.

Do you know how annoying it was to be your vessel, Yuu’s, friend after you already befriended members from four other dorms? It was so frustrating trying to keep your attention when they’re all vying for it! 

Of course the first thing he felt about seeing the true you was pure disbelief. This couldn’t be real, could it...? Was this some sorta dream? If it was, he never wanted to wake up again. If this was a dream where he could stay with you, he’d be content with staying in an eternal slumber. 

When he walked out of the hallway and saw you standing there, he was starstruck. Pinch him, because this dream was too good to be true! Immediately once he came within a few feet of you, he felt that heavenly grace only the player wielded, he knew it was truly you. It wasn’t the puppet you played with and controlled back in his world. You were so... so... amazing? No, that wasn’t it, words couldn’t even describe it. You looked normal, your home was normal, you seemed average at best, but at the same time.... you were wow. It’s as if your entire being had him spellbound. At first, for a brief moment, he felt stiff before getting worked up, eager but anxious at the same time. When he tried to open his mouth and speak, he could only fumble over his words. C’mon, just talk, damn it! If this was a dream, he never wanted it to end. 

“Hey! Over here! Heh, surprised to see me? I got out when Vil was busy on the phone. I figured that maybe you’d be tired after workin’ all day so what better then to drive you home on my motorcycle? Hop on. What do you say we make some detours and stops along the way? We can stop at some scenic spots if you want?” 

Rook Hunt 

Ah, what a lovely nest you have! So this was your temple, the very grounds where you lived. As your loyal follower, he will care and defend this sacred place. 

What’s he up to at the apartment? Well... it’s hard to tell sometimes. Although he is extremely fascinated with your world, he wishes to learn and “see all the beauty in the world that is home to the divine player,” whatever that means. Exploring and being generally curious seems to be a big hobby of his. 

The guy is a real enigma. Wherever you are, Rook is sure to follow and even when you don’t see him, most of the time you get the feeling you’re being watched... He offers his assistance at every turn, he accompanies you everywhere and anywhere. Sometimes it’s a little creepy how he’s always there, but his smile is nothing but kind and his words of praise are loving. Not to mention he’s a very good listener, he’ll listen to any rant or simple chat, as he admires you with a lovestruck smile. 

From what you’ve gathered, Rook is from a fairly wealthy family. So immediately he offers his assistance. How does he do it? Where does he even get the money from? How? It literally makes no sense, it’s a real mystery. For all you know, he could’ve sold some priceless antique or something he had on him, which seemed extremely unlikely but how else did he get that kind of money? When you ask about it, he merely smiles at you and places the money for rent and bills in your palm as he assures you to not worry a single hair on your pretty head. He’s fairly affectionate too, embraces are welcome and if you’ll allow it, he enjoys giving you forehead kisses as well.

Rook also does his fair share of chores, but his main responsibility he’s placed upon himself appears to be your security. Your safety and comfort are of the utmost importance! He, like the rest of the trio, is protective of you, but he isn’t as hostile about it as Epel may be. Usually a warning and his presence with a mere ominous smile is enough to ward off any unwanted guests. 

Speaking of unwanted guests, not only is he your personal security but he also manages to find the time to be the apartment security. No one is going in or out of the apartment complex without him knowing, he even keeps watch of the outside apartment grounds. Ever since Rook arrived, there’s been a lot less break-ins and reported stealing. However, you have caught him cleaning his arrows way more recently, that leave the cleaning cloth a little red... Yeah, you know that he knows that you’ve noticed, but you’re too nervous to ask about it. 

Yes, he missed you dearly! It’s not very common because he’s always lingering whether you know it or not, but he clearly expresses joy whenever he can see you again. If you ask, he’ll deliver heartfelt words as he describes the pain of being apart from you for even a second! 

Ah, sweet precious Yuu, your treasured vessel. Believe him when he says that ever since he first laid his sights on your vessel, he sensed you, and was captivated by your presence flowing through Yuu! 

Oh, to meet the true you, was nothing short of a miracle! A miracle he may be undeserving of, but was something he desired deep in his heart. There was so much he wished to know, so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do–– all for you! 

His sharp hearing picked up on the sound of the front door with unfamiliar footsteps quickly. Immediately his heart rate began to pick up speed as if he were feeling the adrenaline of a hunt, but now he felt as vulnerable as the quarry, not the hunter. It was this feeling, your grace, that made him feel so... exposed. As if laying all his secrets bare. When he saw you–– he could easily sneak up on you seeing as you were distracted with his underclassman. When you accidentally bumped against him and he had to hold your wrist, he felt such a feeling of euphoria course through his nervous system. He couldn’t help but smile–– until you screamed. Swiftly he attempted to calm you, he couldn’t bear to be the source of your distress! It’s true, he shed tears because he was just so happy to meet you...! All he wanted to do was bring you joy and worship you. 

“You summoned me, mon dieu? Say the word, and I shall make your wish a reality... Heh, but of course I heard you! This loyal huntsman is forever at your beck and call! I implore you to tell me what you desire so that I may carry out your every command!–– Hm? You merely called upon me to see if I were present...? I see! Then if I may, may I be so bold as to offer you my company?” 

Vil Schoenheit 

Dearest, there’s no more need for fretting. He, Vil, the fairest one of all, will now handle everything from here on out. So just accept his affections and offer to help. 

What could he possibly be up to? Lots of things actually. He spends time both inside and outside. Of course he’s no pig, he does his own share or chores and helps keep the apartment clean, but he also spends a lot of time out. 

Watching movies, going out for lunch or dinner, simply taking a walk, or even going on a shopping trip. These are all things Vil enjoys to do with you and the others. You choose the movie; you buy whatever you wish to eat (he’s keeping an eye on your diet); and whatever outfits you choose to buy he’ll pay for, and more! 

Wait a moment, how the hell does he have over millions of followers on Instagram already? It’s only been a week! What–– what does he mean he’s inviting you to come along to a photoshoot and audition for a huge movie role he has? Yeah, somehow Vil becomes popular almost instantly, maybe it’s because of his looks? He’s practically doing everything he used to do in his world, now here. Movies, modeling, advertisements, he’s got it. What’s more? He’s getting paid handsomely to do it all, and where does most of that money go? To you of course! 

With the money he earns, he uses it to spoil you like crazy. Since Rook and Epel already covered the rent and bills, he pays for the luxuries. Luxury furniture; brand clothes; expensive jewelry; is that a painted portrait of you with Vil, Rook, and Epel, hanging on the wall inside a golden frame...? Your whole apartment is getting refurbished. He’d love to rent you an entire condo but if you insist, then he has no choice but to stay here in this one with you. 

Because of his elevating status, not only can you live in luxury but you also get to rub elbows with celebrities. However, that and when his fans target you, tend to be when his protectiveness shine through. It’s why he has Rook always watching you. Vil will constantly keep an arm around your waist when encountering fans or stars. Oh, and he isn’t afraid of snapping back venomously. You witnessed how on one occasion, his new manager subtly insulted you and in response, Vil both insulted him and fired him on the spot. From what you’ve heard, that guy has had miserable luck in the industry ever since then. “Any slight against you, is a slight against me,” Vil claims. 

Of course he misses you! If he wasn’t so busy while you were at work and he were left alone with his thoughts, he may have not been able to handle it. He has suggested you quit your job and allow him to take care of you, or if you wanted to work so badly you could just work with him somehow. It was a nice suggestion but you had to politely turn him down. It’s fairly common for him to kiss your cheek when he gets to see you after a long day, which leaves a lipstick stain on your skin.

To be frank, he did not care much, if at all, for your vessel, Yuu, at least in the beginning. However, that changed as time passed and he grew close to Yuu then learned the truth. Eventually he deemed himself responsible for helping your vessel and maintaining their health. 

To see you stand there before him in all your perfect glory... it left him stunned, you literally took his breath away. Here you were, your true self, your perfect self, before his very own eyes. All his work and effort into perfecting himself, caring for your vessel, and improving his underclassmen in Pomefiore into their best selves–– everything he did was for you. 

Now he understood how his fans felt when they were so starstruck that they couldn’t breath, couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak until their mind registered what was happening. When he ended up here and realized where he was, he got straight to work which meant feverishly cleaning and making immediate plans to improve your living environment. However when he saw you and realized it was truly you, his legs started moving on their own, drawn to your presence. Everything he was focusing on before seemingly vanished, as all he could think about now was you. When his fingers grazed over your flesh, he shivered, relieved that you weren’t cold and artificial like your vessel–– you were warm, and you were real. He was in such a state of bliss because you were here–– until he realized how confused you must be. Scolding himself, he prioritized your perfect self above all, so he would first calm you before proceeding to care for you and love you. 

“I had the manager set a seat for you right beside the director and the snack bar is stocked with your favorites. All I ask is you don’t indulge too much in the snacks, I scheduled a dinner for us to meet Rook and Epel after I film this scene... What’s the matter? Don’t you want to watch me work?... What? One of the cast members degraded you?... Alas for her. Who dare insult you? Reveal her name!” 

As a whole...

Pomefiore is another dorm that spoils you, proven by your new life of luxury with the company of these three who lovingly adore you and are fiercely protective of you. You have a pretty lavender-haired sometimes brash roommate who’s sweet to you, an eccentric blonde hunter who’s obsessed with you, and a beautiful blonde model who adores you wholly and wants to care for you for eternity. What more could anyone ask for? The trio is one of the more affectionate and direct with their feelings, so there won’t be a moment when you will feel unloved. Whether that’s a good or bad thing with them... who knows? You’ll continue to let them pay you back for your hospitality by caring for you, won’t you? 

IGNIHYDE 

Fire…? Oh god, you didn’t leave the stove on, did you? Or was someone here messing with the microwave or oven? There might even be a fire starting in another apartment in this complex! In your rush to see where the source of the smell was coming on, you failed to notice the new tablet and remotes sprawled out over the living room table. Someone had been here and left these devices. Hurriedly you rushed inside the kitchen, but there was no sign of anything having been left on. Checking the apartment group chat that gave notices and news for the complex, there was no news of a fire and the smoke detector hadn’t turned on. Wait… there were noises coming from a room connected to the hallway and that seemed to be where the smell came from too. Just as you were about to exit the kitchen, someone entered the same space. It was… the figure of a young robot boy with a mop of flaming blue hair…? 

“Aha! My scanner was correct! I did detect a familiar life force entering the complex grounds! I’m so happy to see you! Ah, wait––”

He stopped once you backed away, you eyed him warily as you held up the sharp end of your keys to warn him. Although you weren’t sure how much damage the keys would do against his metal body if it came down to having to defend yourself. Plus, you’re sure his blue fair hair, however that worked, would burn badly. Before you could ask or demand anything, he continued just as cheerfully, 

“Your heart rate is accelerating at a concerning rate, and so is your breathing pattern–– These are clear signs of fear. Don’t worry! Ah, this is so exciting! I thought I’d never see you like this!” Like a child who just can’t sit still, he practically danced, floating around you, seemingly not caring for the keys in your hand and he didn’t appear to be a threat. Instead he took your hand in his metallic palm, tugging you along towards your room as he insisted, “Come on, you have to see him! Let’s surprise him!”

See who? Surprise who? Your unspoken questions were answered when you were pushed into your home-office where you stored files and your laptop from when you were working at the apartment. There, you could smell the source of the fire, a long messy mane of blue fire that acted as lengthy locks of hair. 

Right now he had yet to notice you. He was far too invested in what appeared to be… building? There were parts and tools all around him as it appeared he had connected your laptop to various PCs and monitors. “What a cheap set-up they had… How can anyone do anything on one monitor? Tsk. This should make it more efficient. Their wi-fi speed is trash, so I gotta fix that too. Hah… Ortho, did you find whatever made that noise––? Uh…” As soon as his eyes landed on you, he froze like a deer in the headlights. His glowing yellow-eyes were wide as he gaped, dropping the piece for the computers in his hands. There was Ortho with the brightest eyes, radiating pure joy, and right next to him was… was… “Y-You–– T-This isn’t what it looks like…!” 

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this duo of students claimed to be from the Ignihyde dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Ignihyde gang, hm? 

Ortho Shroud 

Do not worry! He already helps care for his big brother, he can care for you too! He’ll take good care of your home! 

What’s he usually doing at the apartment? Actually, he’s the one that goes out more often, besides helping keep the place together. In this new world, he finds everything interesting. Please teach him about your world, he wants to know as much as he can! 

Whenever you go out, Ortho is always the one to join you (he goes unnoticed thanks to the custom-made upgrade and hat his brother made him). When you go out for groceries. According to his scanners, these are the ripest and juiciest of fruits! When you go out for clothes. Here is a hologram and program he and his brother created to let you see how outfits would look on you without trying them on! When you want something specific. He’s searched the stock of every store within a 25 mile radius for the item you were looking for, and he’s located five stores with the item! Shall he call and have them reserve it as he leads the way for you? 

He’s a very kind and optimistic kid, so he’s won over a lot of the neighbors, meaning he gets a lot of little gifts he likes to give you. The elderly folks say he’s just the cutest kid, the adults think he’s such a well-behaved boy, and the other children seem to think he’s cool. If only they knew how down right mischievous, almost to a concerning level, he could be. He’s going to vacuum the apartment–– with a wind power blaster on max! Haha, just kidding~! If he did that then he might destroy this whole floor of the apartment complex! 

Although he is very responsible. Keeping the apartment clean, vacuuming, doing the laundry, washing the dishes, dusting, organizing everything, handling any mail whether it be digital or written, he even orders takeout and it’s actually good healthy food (half of the time)! He does it all despite you telling him he doesn’t have to, but he wants to! He would do a lot of this stuff for his older brother, so it’s no hassle. Although he would be really happy if you played games with him after! 

The only time he isn’t doing something for you or his brother, is when there’s a forecast of heavy storms with lightning. There was a huge crack of thunder followed by his scream down the hall. He’s deathly afraid of the thunder, hiding himself away in your room if you’re away. However, if you’re there, he’s clinging to you like a lifeline and won’t let go until the storm has passed. You and Idia are the only ones he feels safe with during a storm, so comfort him. 

Yeah, uh, Ortho isn’t entirely innocent though, he can actually be rather destructive. It’s rare, but he too has his moments. Take for example, when you were scared of the huge spider that ended up in the closet. No, wait, Ortho, don’t use that giant blaster––! Or how when your landlord mentioned he was raising the cost of rent and you complained, he later came back to retract that statement all while nervously avoiding innocent little Ortho. Ortho also acts as security, he has motion sensors that detect movement all around the complex grounds. It’s so effective that he was able to confront a would-be thief by the park and stop them from doing anything bad! Hooray! Wait a moment, you wonder… What happened to that pretty tree in the park? Why is there only a burnt stump left…? 

Yes, he missed you so much! Everyday while you work, you’re getting texts and the occasional call from Ortho. Please don’t be mad, he just really misses you! When your shift is done, he’s always there waiting at the lobby, swinging his little feet as he sits and waits. He visibly brightens up when he sees you, eagerly running over to hold your hand and take you home so his brother can see you too! 

In the beginning, he just wanted a friendship with you (through your vessel), him, and of course his brother. He just wanted to be your friend, be in your company, just like how everyone else smiled with you and spent time with you. Can’t he be your friend too…? 

He detected your presence far before you detected him. So when his suspicions were confirmed, he was over the moon! It was you, his friend! This was his dream come true: the real and authentic you, him, and his brother, all together in one place and living together like a big happy family! Just like in his favorite movies! 

As soon as he detected your presence, he had to wait and contain his excitement. He wanted this to be a surprise! When Idia asked him to go check the source of the commotion, he nyoomed right over to where he detected your presence on his scanners. He was so so happy to see you–– he didn’t care about the keys you were holding and he was certain his own flames were increasing. Oh, if he had a heart, he was sure its heart rate would surpass yours! It wasn’t that Ortho was oblivious, it’s just that he was so overjoyed that he didn’t mind your initial fear. You’d get over it quickly, he knows it. How could you continue to see him as a threat? You’ll recognize him soon, just as he recognizes you, then you’ll be happy too! Afterall, didn’t humans say joy was supposed to be infectious? 

“Happiness gauge has reached 100%... Yay, you’re here! Hi! How are you feeling right now? How was work today? Do you want me to place a take-out order or place a reservation at your favorite restaurant? I’m sure if you ask my brother to join us out to eat, then he’ll say yes! Hm?... How’d I know what time you got off of work? Hehe, I know your whole schedule for your convenience!” 

Idia Shroud

Ah, this was so nerve-wracking being away from his own room. Well… it’s not that bad since you’re here. Just leave him in your home where he can be comfortable.

What’s he doing at the apartment? You’re not completely sure but he does stay inside practically all the time. He’s almost always on some type of device, and will not-so-subtly try to linger around you if you let him. 

It’s rare to see Idia go out, especially by himself. However, if you ask him and you seem very eager to go out… well, he’ll impulsively say yes but he’s anxious the entire time. He’ll wear caps to hide his flaming hair and jackets or coats to cover himself. If you take him to someplace like an arcade or merch shop, he’s lightening up and actually enjoying the trip outside. 

Your work from home office? Yeah, that’s basically his office now too. Don’t worry, he’s set up a partition of shelves filled with a mix of your office supplies and the merchandise he buys. His side is all dark and lit by the screen light from devices, the room filled with scattered comics, video game cases, and appliances used by Ortho. Apparently he codes things, programs stuff, creates and sells, because every week there’s a transaction notification from your bank account. It’s Idia wiring you more than enough money for rent and bills. 

It’s fairly normal to see Idia shuffling around the apartment, sometimes forgoing the comfort of his bed or office to be in the same room as you. He doesn’t do much of chores–– he is a bit messy but at least he keeps it to his area. If you ask him to clean though, he’ll tidy up. But… don’t ask him to cook. He can’t manage that. If you do ask him, you’re getting served those really expensive fancy instant ramen. It’s the thought that counts…? 

You’ve never actually seen Idia get angry. But you have heard a loud and audibly frustrated Hah? from his room/office once when you texted him about some negative experiences. According to Ortho, Idia has turned red at times after hearing about your negative experiences. And he means literally, like his calm blue hair had flared into an angry red. Whoever caused those negative experiences whether it be harassment, bullying, or anything else, you won’t be hearing from them ever again. 

Even if it doesn’t seem like he does much, he does a lot. Creating personal service and wifi so you don’t have to pay companies, upgrading all your devices, connecting appliances to your phone like the lights and locks of the apartment and such. He wants to spend time with you, but he’s far too nervous to ask you… Which is why Ortho is always bringing you together. Sometimes if Idia has enough courage, he’ll call you instead of text you or purposefully leave something in your space so you can go to him later. He’ll help you out though. He’ll slow down or shut down the computers of your co-workers so it looks like you’re doing more work and you get a promotion. H-Huh…? N… No… He didn’t hack into your laptop’s camera or the surveillance tapes from your workplace just to watch you… 

Yeah, he missed you, but why would someone as great as you miss someone as miserable as himself…? Why do you think he’s always watching you through screens when you’re not around? If you mention missing you to him, he suddenly looks very nervous. Great, he’s been found out. Now you must think he’s some creep… as if his constant texts throughout the day don’t give away the fact that he longs for your company whether it be with your actual presence or conversation online. 

Ah, right, your vessel… Honestly, he didn’t like Yuu at all at first, but that changed later. They weren’t… that bad. Your vessel was really something special, in some ways it bested his own work on Ortho. Your vessel could be warm or cold, it had a heartbeat, it functioned like a normal human. Perhaps that growing fascination with your vessel was what drew him closer. 

When his gaze landed in you, the flames of his hair grew in heat and size, simmering dangerously high as he attempted to keep his cool–– but he couldn’t! You were staring, probably judging, forming negative thoughts already. Any step closer and his hair might flare up, hot enough to activate the sprinkler systems of the apartment. 

When Idia connected the dots, realizing where he was, he very nearly went into shock. How was this possible? Why was this happening to him and Ortho? No, wait, it’s not like he was upset. This was like a one in trillionth chance. Something lucky finally happened to him! But at the same time, he was freaking out badly. Breaking into a cold sweat, feeling his nerves spike 100%, he felt sick but at the same time he was so eager he could scream! The two things preventing him from breaking down under the weight of all these emotions, was his little brother and seeing the state of this place. What’s with these simple appliances? No offense but your wifi sucks. Oh god, what kind of PC was this? How do you even play any games on something this simple? This was real beginner tutorial level stuff. Seriously? Don’t you have anything better? Which is how he became so engrossed in improving everything he could get his hands on. He was so focused on improving your things that he didn’t even notice you were here, and so when he did finally notice you, he was right back at square one with the flood of emotions rolling back in. 

“Someone will get hurt? Nahhhh. I mean, you know, it could happen. The probability is there. Stuff happens, that’s life, isn’t it? N-No, that doesn’t mean I’ll do anything to them… Anyway! You don’t owe anything to those normies. Seriously, why do you even care about your coworkers? It’d be so much better if you just always worked from home. They just try to boss you around, unlike me and Ortho. Tsk. They’re so annoying. Especially with how that one loser told you to get him a coffee. Huh? H-How do I know that…? Um….” 

As a whole... 

Ignihyde is probably the most vigilant of all the dorms. They’re always watching, even when you think they aren’t. You’re kept under 24/7 surveillance, but it’s not like you know that. Plus, it’s for your safety! Don’t you know how many creeps are out there? It’s okay though. You have a young and powerful robot boy who looks up at you with nothing but respect and admiration, and an intelligent introverted shut-in who’s obsessed with you but sometimes far too nervous to approach you himself. Not just anyone could get close to this brother duo. You’ll have a lot of fun with them and they’ll be sure to keep you entertained. They consider you family at this point, you know? You’ve offered them your hospitality and company, surely you think of them as family too, don’t you? 

DIASOMNIA 

Flowers…? The fragrant smell of nature permeated through your apartment. Quickly you found the source of the aroma, which came from some flowers in a vase in the living room. Flowers which you never collected or were gifted. It was a bouquet of mismatched plants, made of some poppies with missing petals, crumpled daisies, red roses so dark in shade they were almost black, and strangely enough there were even thorns in the bunch. Everything was neater than when you left it. No dust, no stray blankets, everything was orderly. The distant sound of chatter filled your ears, coming from somewhere within the kitchen. And with that– Oh god, what was that stench? Was something from the kitchen burning? Were the people here trying to burn down your apartment with the stove?

“I will be the one responsible to check! If I cannot even do something as simple as ensure the safety of the player’s abode, then I have no right to even serve them! For––” The man stopped, halting his marching as he exited the kitchen and came face-to-face with you.

You froze in fear, warily eyeing the tall with light-green hair slicked back. Not only were you frightened of this man who was obviously much stronger than you judging by his build, but this guy had also been talking to someone. There were bound to be others. As his yellow-green eyes widened and his mouth opened, you were struggling to swiftly take out something that may help you. In one hand you held your phone, in the other your keys. Just as you decide whether to call someone for help or try to defend yourself with the sharp end of your keys, the man does the unthinkable––

He starts bawling. This grown man who looked so intimidating and stronger than you, just started sobbing for no apparent reason! Too stunned by what was occurring, you failed to act as he got up close immediately. Yet he didn’t touch you, but he peered down at you as he furiously wiped away the tears in his eyes. “Wait!!! Please… Please, forgive me!! N–Not only have we barged in on your sacred dwelling unannounced, but I–– I must’ve alarmed you!! It’s merely–– I’m honored beyond belief to finally be in the presence of your true self!! How could I be so lucky? What good deed did I do to deserve this opportunity?!”

What? It was safe to say that you no longer felt threatened. Just… bewildered, and definitely still uneasy.

“Sebek, why are you–– Oh…” Right then, another figure emerged from the kitchen. A calm sleepy looking man with silver hair ambled into the room, but his eyes widened upon landing on you. Slowly he approached, gaze fixated on you, as if in a trance. Yet… he wasn’t very threatening. He had this peaceful air around him. You were still hesitant, but you had your phone and keys at your disposal. Upon getting closer, he lowered his head as if bowing while he spoke, “I apologize for the fright he must’ve given you. Father said this was the moment we had all been waiting for but I didn’t believe he meant… this.” His tone was monotoned, but he smiled, his expression showing his happiness but his voice didn’t match. “I’m so surprised… but so happy too. Ah, Father must be waiting to see you then…!”

With little to no room for arguments, the two men flanked your sides, and hurriedly escorted you to the kitchen. The closer you got, the heavier the smell became. Oh god, it was so bad–– Inside you saw a mess near the oven. There were bowls, cups, spoons, flour, and a tall leaning to the side abomination that could’ve only been a cake only discernible by the recipe page beside it. There was… no one here? Wait… Looking up, you were surprised to see a short guy dangling from the ceiling like a bat–– how was he even doing that?

When your gaze landed on him, he gave a grin, revealing tiny fangs. He lowered himself a bit so dangled upside down in front of you, his black hair with magenta highlights shifting with his movement, his large deep red eyes peering down at you. Judging by the oven mitts on his hands, he was likely the culprit for the mess and the cake as well as the smell of smoke most likely from the oven. But he didn’t seem to care too much for that right now, instead he was focused intensely on you. “There you are! You finally came! I was wondering when you were going to return. I’m sure these two youngins gave you an enthusiastic welcome! As you can see I’ve baked you a cake as a welcome gift from myself. Don’t worry too much about the mess, I’ll clean that up and you can try my cooking! Ah, don’t be so scared~” He floated down from the ceiling until he was standing upright in front of you. The short man was odd, there was something off about him, but he merely patted your head as the over mitt floated off his hand. “Surely you must recognize us by now. So, you know that there’s one more person waiting for you, don’t you?”

That was how you found yourself trapped in a room with one of them. The three you met were so excited to meet you, but they were just as eager for you to see the final fourth one of them. You found him wandering your study, admiring the objects and furniture but not touching, as if he were appreciating the priceless displays in a museum. That is until you, the most precious treasure of all, appeared in his vision. You get it now, you understood why people were nervous around him. He just had this air of elegance and superiority. The tall and extremely intimidating man with the black hair looked down at you with his green eyes, at first surprised before he smiled such a soft smile that quickly became a more menacing looking one. Although he may have just been excited and he might have not meant it to look menacing. Then, he spoke, “It feels like I’ve waited an eternity for this moment with you… I’m uncertain if it was by one of my attempts, mere chance, or by what I hope was your longing to see me as well, that called me forth and brought me and my companions to your world. I’ve dreamt of this moment countless times, ever since you first graced me with your presence through your vessel in my world. Although, I realize I am undeserving, that there’s the possibility I may have arrived here by mistake, but I am determined to make the most out of it. So, please grant my wish, I wish to stay beside you for an eternity. If you accept me, I’ll be forever grateful and remain loyal until the very end of time.”

One game. You downloaded one game, Twisted Wonderland, on a whim, and now this group of students claimed to be from the Diasomnia dorm from that very mobile game. It was incredibly difficult to believe, almost impossible, if it weren’t for their striking resemblance to the characters and the magic they were able to conjure with their pen. What was more of a shock? They claimed to know you as the player. Of course before they knew nothing of your looks or true personality, but now here you were in your divine grace, the real deal right before them! You can be sure that they will take advantage of your kindness as you allowed them to stay until they could find a way to return home. But really, why want to go back when you were here? 

Oh, but you want to know how it’s like living with the Diasomnia gang, hm? 

Sebek Zigvolt 

Worry not, he will serve you just as he serves the young master! He, Sebek, will wholeheartedly dedicate himself not only to being of assistance to you but also to defending your abode!! 

What is he doing at the apartment? Serving you, of course! In everything he does, he does for you. Cleaning, cooking, shopping. You actually have to command him to do something for himself, or else he’d be taking care of you non-stop. 

Sebek is one of the clingiest members by far. You going out shopping? Say no more, he’ll carry all the bags! You want to take a stroll? He shall accompany you and hold your umbrella to protect you from that wretched sun! The sidewalk is too crowded? Everyone move aside, make room!! It’s terribly embarrassing sometimes, so you have to remind him to try and not attract unnecessary attention. If you ask him why not do something he enjoys for once, he immediately responds with “But… I enjoy serving you…!” 

Yes, Sebek enthusiastically does many of the chores and he takes care of the cooking with Silver. Don’t underestimate his dedication to fulfilling your every command. He’s loud so if you ask him to be quiet for a moment, he'll stay absolutely silent until you give him permission to speak again. If you mention having issues with someone at work, he’s marching straight over and only you can stop him before he gives that poor person a multiple hour long lecture mixed with scoldings and praises of you. Say you’re hungry, and he’s immediately in the kitchen starting to cook a whole buffet. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, you know. 

Speaking of food, like mentioned previously, Silver and Sebek handle the food meaning they make your lunch. If it weren’t for Silver placing some restrictions, Sebek would be giving you enough food for everyone on the floor you work on. Still, he makes sure you have more than enough. He’s packed a healthy appetizer and a good main dish paired with a side dish! Oh, and here’s a portable mug with freshly brewed tea! 

He says goodbye at the door when you’re leaving for work but it’s a long goodbye because he’s following you through the halls, down the stairs, all the way towards the street. No, no, he cannot follow you this time. Annnnd he’s still following. You implemented a rule for all four of them, they are not allowed to enter your workplace when you’re busy. Before the rule was implemented, Sebek tried barging in more than once. After the rule, he tried to get a job as a security guard for the building. Thankfully, he was rejected because he just wanted to guard one floor which was the one you worked on. He takes matters concerning your security seriously, you must text him at least once every thirty minutes so he knows you okay! At the very least, you haven’t seen him hurt anyone just to keep you safe. And you’re sure he hasn’t harmed anyone… right? 

If it’s not obvious by now, Sebek probably has the hardest time when you leave. You haven’t seen it, but since the large portrait he’s commissioned to have placed in his room is not complete yet (he also asked for one of Malleus), he keeps a locket with your picture around his neck. Every once in a while when you aren’t around, others will catch him gazing fondly at your image. The second your shift is done, he’s somehow already in the elevator waiting for you. If the others manage to convince him to wait at home, you arrive to see him standing rigidly at the front door like a soldier waiting to be given commands. He has the brightest smile as he greets you loudly and enthusiastically. Give him a head pat for his good work. 

Ah, yes, your vessel Yuu. He’s proud to report that he served your vessel as well!! Although every time he recalls how he used to view your vessel as a mere human of no significance, he scorns himself. If only he wasn’t so blind, if only he realized your importance earlier he could’ve spent much more time in your graceful presence!! That’s the only regret he has concerning your vessel. 

Oh, the pure joy he felt upon seeing you––! The overwhelming feeling of your grace washing over his entire being filled him with such bliss! Why, he was simply so thrilled, so shocked but delighted that he was moved to tears!!  

When Lilia requested that he guard the front door, he immediately did so. How astute of sir Lilia, he was right, the door had to be guarded in the case that someone arrived! Sebek volunteered to do the job, wishing to take the task instead of Silver. That way he would be the first to see who came through the door! What he didn’t expect was for the player he practically worshipped to be there! Why, it sent him into such a shock, making his jaw drop! That’s when he burst into tears, awestruck by your presence that overwhelmed him!! All his time that he devoted to training in combat, learning from various classes, teaching himself useful skills, it was not just for the young master Malleus but also for you––! You were the only other person he could hold in such high regard!! 

“My liege!!! I welcome you home!! I apologize for not being present today to escort you home! I envy my companions who were able to bask in your wonderful presence while escorting you here safely…! Tsk–– However! I’ve spent my time wisely. I’ve cleaned the entire apartment while everyone was absent! Additionally, I’ve prepared everything necessary for dinner! Thank you for working hard today once again!! I sincerely hope that my measly efforts are able to lift some responsibility off your shoulders!!” 

Silver 

Ah, so this is your home… It’s very nice. He will do his best to protect it. Please, rest assured, he will defend you and your home until his last breath. 

What’s he usually doing? Well, when not volunteering to do chores, he’s sleeping. Silver being classic Silver. He tries really hard to stay awake but your home is just… so comforting. And your presence is so relaxing, how can he not just… be lulled into a… deep sleep…

Silver is probably the best person to have with you. He’s calm and manages to charm everyone without even trying, not to mention he’s the only human in the group. He’s grateful whenever you allow him to go with you. It gives him an opportunity to learn more about you, your homeland, and the humans around. Like the rest of the group, he sometimes has difficulty understanding human customs despite being human. Forgive him, he was raised by fae. Please, teach him? 

Believe it or not, it’s Silver who’s the most beloved by the neighbors. They’re all crazy over him, especially the women. The old ladies love to pinch his cheeks because he’s such a gentleman, the mothers wish their sons were like him, the younger women all try to flirt with him all the time, even the children adore him because he’s just like the prince in their fairytale books! Whenever they give him gifts, which is often, Silver doesn’t mind sharing with you. In fact, he actually prefers it if you had the gift. 

Ah, the animals. Silver really is like a magical prince. For some reason, animals just flock to him. On more than one occasion, you’ve caught them helping Silver with chores. Birds moving wet clothes to dry on the balcony, squirrels helping him sweep up dust, etc. How does he do it? You have no idea. While you were at work once, a pair of pigeons delivered you a bouquet of flowers with a note simply reading: To my beloved. From, Silver. Knowing Silver, it probably wasn’t even his intention to be romantic. He probably just saw some pretty flowers he wanted to give you. 

Yes, he’s very chill and it’s difficult to tell how he feels by his expression. In fact, you’ve only seen him get angry once. It was at a cafe, seated at a small table as you awaited your orders to collect the food and meet the others elsewhere so you could have a picnic. You had placed your purse on the back of your seat as Silver sat nearby, dozing off a bit. You weren’t paying attention as you waited for your order number to be called, when a stranger strolled by and reached for your unattended bag–– Never before had you seen Silver snap fully awake so quickly before. Nor had you ever seen his face contort into anger as he gripped the would-be-thief’s wrist before he could even touch your belongings. The situation ended peacefully from what you remembered. But when you weren’t listening, Silver made sure to inform his Father and Master Malleus, which led the two to properly punish the thief without you knowing. 

Yes, he did quite miss you… but he doesn’t want to bother you when he knows you are busy. He’ll only act clingy if you allow it and if you spare time for him. To him, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing. You could be looking at another person, but as long as he’s in your presence, then he’s content. Although… he wouldn’t deny any attention you do decide to give him. 

Yes, he knew your vessel Yuu. Just as he was training to be a knight worthy to serve and protect Master Malleus, he would also do the same for your vessel. In his eyes, you were like the royalty a knight should devote themselves to. 

Of course seeing the true you for the first time would put a smile on his face. Do you realize how difficult it is to actually get Silver to visibly smile? If this was merely a fantasy formed by his desires in his dreams, he never wanted to wake up again. 

When the sound of Sebek’s loud sobs reached his ears and when Lilia gave an amused glance at him, Silver took both of these as a sign to investigate. He and Sebek had no idea where they were or what was going on, but Lilia and Malleus seemed content, even absolutely delighted to be here. Wherever here was. If they were so happy to be here, then perhaps he shouldn’t be so worried. Then he saw you in front of his crying companion, and it all made sense. They had sensed your presence and knew you would be here. Right then, it felt like he was having an otherworldly experience, just by seeing you. It felt like this couldn’t be real, like this was far too good to be true–– yet here you were. His legs moving on his own, immediately drawn closer until he found himself bowing and smiling up at you. 

“Thank you for allowing me to escort you to work today. I’m very happy right now… Hm? I don’t look happy? But I’m smiling? Oh… am I not smiling? Apologies. Please know that being beside you with the privilege of being your protector is everything I’ve dreamed of. If I were to get injured or worse by defending you, I would not mind. I would risk every part of my being just to see you safe and smiling… Ah–– that’s both sappy and concerning you say? But I’m only speaking how I feel…” 

Lilia Vanrouge 

Oh, don’t fret, little one! Lilia is here now. Not only will he keep all these young ones in line, but he’ll be sure to care for you and love you. 

What’s he up to around the apartment? Honestly, you’re not sure. You rarely see him cleaning, but somehow he keeps the apartment spotless. When up to his own devices, he seems greatly intrigued just by the things of his world so he usually explores and shows you his finds or new knowledge. He mentioned something like the unknown making him feel young again. 

It’s like having a dad all over again, but a very fun laid back kind of dad. This includes lovingly teasing you for almost everything, embarrassing you by pridefully showing you off whenever the opportunity presents itself, and the talks that include wisdom from a very ancient fae. You’re still stuck with his horrible cooking though. 

Lilia probably fits in the most, which is strange considering he’s a fae with a vast past. People don’t seem to look twice at his ears because they assume it’s a prop or they’re hidden by his hair. Not to mention the highlights in his hair combined with his attitude and how he takes a liking to grunge/punk clothes. If you’d pass him on the street you’d have no idea he was from a magic world. Additionally, he seems to get along with most people. It’s very weird to see this short guy wearing edgy fashion and somehow relating to the elderly war veterans in the apartment complex. Although you don’t mind, since he has their favor and they give him extra supplies for the apartment. 

He makes sure you’re loved. Cheek kisses, head pats, checking in on you after a long day, willing to do whatever it takes to cheer you up. He’s easily the most openly affectionate out of the group. If you’re tired, he’ll hum or sing you a lullaby if you ask. He can be surprisingly gentle and soft. Once after a full day out with all of them, you promptly passed out upon returning home as your head lay in his lap and he gazed down at you with nothing but eyes filled with adoration. Malleus was nearby, his fingers weaving through your hair as he felt content at seeing you so peaceful. Meanwhile the bickering between Silver and Sebek had stopped, both had fallen asleep on the other couches too. It was a picturesque scene. 

Lilia prefers that you don’t see a certain side of him, however, he won’t scramble to hide it. If you find out then you find out, but you’ll still have him. Lilia can be rather… cruel. That’s probably something to be expected of a fae who’s seen war and experienced so much. Any threat to you is quickly snuffed out. He’ll give a firm talk to co-workers who treat you badly, he’ll hunt down creeps who tried to take pictures of you or touch you in public, and if someone ever dared try to mortally wound you? May whatever higher being there may be have mercy on their soul once Lilia gets his hands on them. 

Oh, Lilia missed you deeply. In fact, it’s fairly common for him to try to guilt-trip you into working from home today just so he can be with you. Sometimes it’s hard to say no to his cute face and crocodile tears… When you do go and return, you immediately are greeted by a warm hug as he asks to hear about your day. 

Ah, your cute little vessel Yuu. Yes, he knew them well. Ever since day one, you had intrigued him greatly. In his several millennia long lifetime, he had never once met someone like you. You were truly one of a kind, and he wanted to know you better. 

As soon as he appeared, he realized almost immediately that he was in a place dear to you. Although it was faint, he could feel your presence, meaning you had been here. Well, what an unexpected turn of events! This was not how he expected his day to go! In the meantime, he’d prepare something sweet to welcome you with. Let’s see here, what ingredients were in the kitchen… 

Of course he knew it was you at the door! It was why he sent Sebek first then Silver, wanting the two to see you first before he could later keep all your attention and coo over you. Ah, he was patient as it came with age, but he hadn’t felt this impatient in a long time. He put a lot of effort into this… cake, for you! He truly hoped you liked it. Now to surprise you! And it certainly was a surprise to see him floating from the ceiling, and he relished in your reaction, and your presence–– oh, your sweet grace! He can’t ever remember a time where he felt this happy to see someone before. He just can’t wait to take you under his wing, fret over you, and just spoil you silly! 

“Good morning, my little bat! Breakfast is almost–– hm?... You’re already about to leave for work? My, my, is it really that late in the morning already? How time flies. Are you not working from home today? Oh… but I planned to spend time with you during your break. I even saved so you can spend at any cafe we pass by… Of course, it’s fine, I know you’re busy and you work hard. But everytime you go, I get so lonely I can c-cry… Oh? Last minute change of plans? I see! Heheh, I’ll be sure to spoil you with whatever you want on your break then!” 

Malleus Draconia 

So this building is your residence?–– No? Only these few rooms and the rest belong to others? Ah… but you deserve much more. Shall he, Malleus, ward off the rest of the humans and demolish this complex to have a castle built in its place? No? As you wish, he’ll leave you to reside in this apartment since you find it satisfactory. 

What could he possibly be doing in your apartment? A majority of the time, you have no idea. He’s just following you endlessly so long as you allow him to. You never really see him do chores, perhaps because his retainers do it for him or he does it when you aren’t looking. Really anything you want to do, he’ll gladly join you. Although you’re not certain what he does when he’s not with you… 

As mentioned before, he’ll always try to follow you simply because he does not want to be apart from you. At first it was a little unnerving but you quickly got used to it. He’s able to go out with little to no trouble, since most people think his horns and ears are some strange prop, plus you made him and the others promise to not use magic in public. One good thing about his presence is he always scares off unwanted company. Even if people don’t know who he is, he’s intimidating enough with the way he carries himself. 

Malleus believes you deserve the world and more. So he covers all costs. Will this pile of gold from his treasury do? What is he thinking? You deserve much more than this puny sum! No, you insist, that’s more than enough. As to how he even got his treasures here, you have no clue. All he asks in return is for your company. He truly does care for you possibly more than anyone, so he’ll gladly give more gold just to spoil you. If you bring him with you to shop or any simple outing or invite him somewhere, he’s over the moon with joy. 

Although it’s hard to believe it since he acts so refined and elegant. You think he’s an enigmatic being, maybe a little peculiar, and he always keeps his cool but in actuality… he’s weak for you. Even if he seems calm, any moment with you sends his heart fluttering. Every glance, every smile, every touch, every word, every gesture, it fills him with so much unbelievable ecstasy that makes his heart beat wildly. Who would have thought that such a peaceful simple domestic life would satisfy a prince like him? 

Everything you say, everything you do, even what you think matters. He teased you and such, but never to the point of upsetting you, just because he cannot resist seeing your range of emotions and reactions. One day when he nearly exposed magic to a passerby when attempting to impress you with his skills, leading to you becoming worried and upset, he was absolutely devastated. Malleus believed you were cross with him, how could he do such a foolish thing and anger you? Next thing you know, there was suddenly a nasty storm with powerful lightning and thunder despite the sunny weather five minutes ago, unconsciously formed by his immediate regret and immense guilt. Yet as soon as you spoke to him as he apologized profusely and you explained you weren’t angry at him, the storm quickly cleared upon comforting him. Needless to say, he was not about to make the same mistake twice. 

You seem to have no worries recently. Of course he and Lilia handle each little matter stressing you. If you stop, you might actually notice the way your rude boss shivers upon seeing the fae waiting to escort you home from work. If you turned around to see Malleus, you might’ve seen the way he glared down at the shop owner that scammed you as said owner nervously gave you much more than you paid for. Oh, you’re scared of going out at night because of creeps? Fear not, for he will be beside you the entire time. Besides, he and Lilia already weeded out all… potential threats in the area. You will be safe as long as he is around. 

You know, he’s actually much worse than Sebek when it comes to clinginess. You just never notice Malleus. If you think you’re alone… you’re not. If you feel like you’re being watched when you leave all four of them at home… you’re being watched. The fae prince never truly leaves you alone. He tells himself it’s to keep you safe and content always, but it’s partly for himself too. He’d feel far too lonely if he actually left you for over five minutes. Maybe his lingering presence, even when you don’t know it, explains some little things. The coffee you left cold at your desk is pleasantly warm when you come back, when you turn around the mess of papers is suddenly an organized stack, that coworker you had a fight with suddenly went home sick and didn’t return for nearly a week and when they did return they seemed… scared. 

Malleus likes to believe he knows your vessel, Yuu, better than anyone else. Afterall, he met you early on, he even accidentally helped you. He knew you were a strange one in the beginning, but he had no idea how special you were until later on. 

Like Lilia, he was quick to realize where he was. At first, he was shocked, in pure disbelief. This must be some kind of miracle or a cruel joke––! Lilia was quick to keep Sebek and Silver busy, while he was left to his own devices. So, he explored, but never daring to touch anything, as if even the trashcan in the corner were sacred since it belonged to you. 

Of course he felt your nearing presence. It felt like time was longer than ever now, like every second was an hour. When he heard Sebek sobbing followed by Silver’s voice, he felt his heartbeat quicken. It was happening. You were almost here. Soon, you would come to see him. When he heard the distant voice of Lilia in the kitchen, he felt nervous for the first time in a long while. The moment was coming when he would see you finally, but the moment didn’t seem to come fast enough. Part of him was worried you would fear him. After all, this was technically like a first meeting, so if that were the case–– he’d simply do everything in his power so you warm up to him. You meant far too much to him, he would not allow you to leave him alone even if you tried. He wanted this, you, or something with you, far too much, more than anything he’s ever desired before. Then he heard the door–– it was happening! His gaze landed over to you, immediately transfixed on you. This was it. He was finally meeting the person he adored and coveted, the very one he sought out. 

“You’re relieved to see me after a long day? Hm, as am I to see you… Why am I smiling so ominously, you ask? Heh. Well, because I’ve reunited with you, and because I was thinking of the others who were not blessed and have not seen you. Diasomnia was fortunate enough not only to bask in your presence but to live beside you. I merely find it amusing to remember the countless times others within the college had not invited me to see your plaything Yuu, and yet here I am in the company of the true you. I wonder if they realize, if they know, or even see me here alongside you now. It’s a shame I cannot see them writhing as they wallow in their own sorrows and regret.” 

As a whole... 

Diasomnia adores you wholly, in their eyes you can do no wrong. They both revere you and adore you. For you, they’ll do anything, they’ve told you as much. If you asked, they’d even tear this world apart and mold it into how you see fit. You assure them that you never want that, that the most you usually want is help with chores and stuff. Still, they do carry out your commands, even if it’s not anything major. You have a dedicated green-haired half-fae eager to please you in any way, a sleepy young man that keeps the calm and peace, an ancient fae who dotes over you, and a fae prince willing to bring this society to its knees should you ask. With these four, they’re practically like family at this point. An overpowered, obsessed, and overprotective family… They treasure you very much, I hope you realize that. You’ve offered them your hospitality and company, surely you won’t think of ever getting rid of them, right?

[with-love-from-hell]

Caution

{ft. Simeon}

Part 7 of the Fortification Series  (based on this request)

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

Written for a GN!MC, though the partner is written as male.

WC: ~3.3k

TRIGGER WARNING: Each part contains graphic depictions of various types of abuse, please see specific content warnings for each individual part.

CW: physical abuse, emotional abuse, possessiveness, death threats, strangulation, depictions and mentions of alcohol use/intoxication/hangovers, graphic violence and gore, poisoning, drugging of someone’s drink, vomit, depictions of body horror, depictions of rotting skin/flesh, depictions of internal organs, tongue mutilation, depictions of convulsions and muscle spasms, mentions of bruises that could be interpreted on fair complexion, swearing

Series Masterlist

Note: Though I do have a masters degree in Psychology and clinical training in treating survivors of abuse, I am not your therapist, nor is this fic intended to take the place of professional help. If you are experiencing any type of abuse, please seek support from a professional. Utilize the Victim Connect Resource Center to get connected to the appropriate helpline.

My blog is for individuals 18+ ONLY. Please put your age or an indication that you are an adult visibly in your bio before interacting. If you are a minor, please do not follow or interact with my posts.

Simeon was not a violent man. 

He had patience, was kind, and really loved most living beings- especially humans. But there was one being he loved most in all three realms- and that was you.

He was curious about your timidness and seeming mistrust of him at first, but after your walls were let down ever so slightly and he could peak into who you really were, he was smitten. He would obviously never disclose this to you while you were spoken for, though. And besides, a human and an angel? Sometimes he had to remind himself that the last time that situation happened, there was an all out war between the realms. Unfortunately for him, despite his attempts at restraint, it only drew him nearer to you. 

Frankly, you didn’t mind one bit. You really liked Simeon, maybe more than you should given the fact that he was bound by the stringent laws of the Celestial Realm...and given the fact you had a boyfriend. Though, the latter was the least of your concerns. You had wanted to leave him for so long, and you would pounce on any opportunity given to you to do so, so long as you would have your safety procured. 

You almost forgot what it was like to have freedom until coming to the Devildom, and being forced to live apart from him. Being cared for under the watchful eyes of the brothers- even more-so after your pacts with the first three- meant that he had limited access to you, and you had some room to finally just...breathe. So the times where you were forced to be around him- his iron grip clutching your waist against his, the sharp pulls on your wrist when you were taking too long to do something, and the drunk rampages during which he wouldn’t hesitate to take turn a hand to you were become less and less tolerable with each passing day.

The small taste of that freedom wasn’t enough. You didn’t want to go back to him at all. But, the one time you did try to end things with him peacefully, he tried to strangle you to death- and nearly succeeded. After he decided to drop you to the ground, the words he had said stuck with you, even now. 

“If you ever try to leave again, I’ll fucking kill you.” 

It was enough to keep his hold on you, and afterwards your time spent free became more and more limited. it was as if you were a prisoner, watching the world pass by from a barred window. It was depressing, to say the least. And your will to fight back only decreased, causing you to recluse within yourself and become docile and obedient, just like before. Only this time, there were enough eyes on you to notice the shift. 

Simeon was the first to see how frequently you started visiting purgatory hall, and still how little he saw of you despite this. You were holed up in his room the entire time, and when you weren’t it was like you were a shell of your former self. Alarm bells were going off in his mind that something was awry, but he had no idea how to prove it, or even what he could do about it. 

That is, until he saw the bruises. 

He happened to wake in the middle of the night after a particularly disturbing nightmare about the war on one of the occasions when you were staying the night. When he went to go wash his face in the bathroom, he stopped dead in his tracks. Your normal sleepwear was discarded on the floor, and you stood, barely clothed- as bare as he’d ever seen you at least- in front of the full length mirror. With an agonizing hiss, you attempted to tend to a particularly deep gash across your stomach with some of the healing balm Solomon kept in the cabinet. 

Simeon approached cautiously, careful not to startle you, but not yet wanting to alert you of his presence. He took in your whole body, noticing the plethora of bruises that lined your form that were normally hidden from view. They looked similar to leopard spots, showing up as darker-hued rings with a purplish-blue center, all of various shapes and sizes. He also noticed the few other healed scars that also surrounded your body, some even overlapping with the bruises. 

“Mc...” Simeon whispered, causing you to freeze your actions. “What...what happened?” 

As if he didn’t already know. 

Everything began to make sense. Your demeanor, your clothing choices, the hoarding of your time, how he always spoke for you...all of it whirled around his head, and he felt so brainless for not being able to see the signs sooner. 

Simeon approached you, his eyes glossy with tears and voice subdued to ensure your boyfriend wouldn’t overhear. “Did he do this to you?” 

You looked away from him- feeling so ashamed- and give a small nod. 

“I-I’m sorry, Mc.” Simeon looks down to his feet, unsure of what to do. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking of what he can say. 

When you grab his hand, he is surprised, and quickly meets your eyes once more. He is stunned to see you’re now trembling, eyes wide and filled with such terror. He gulps, the fear displayed in you making his own anxiety rise. 

“Please...help me.” You whimper, the façade you had put on for so long finally slipping.  “I can’t take this anymore. Please.” 

Simeon nods, pulling you into a tight hug. He cradles your head in one hand, the other gripping your back firmly as he hushed your cries. 

“Don’t worry. Mc.” He cooed, his voice now firm with intent. “I won’t let him touch you again.” 

-------------------------------------------------------

Simeon sat in the dim light of the purgatory hall living room, the shades drawn to conceal the dark skies of the devildom. He adjusted his crossed legs, still waiting for your boyfriend to wake up from his late night of hard drinking. He glanced over at the clock, noticing it was well into the afternoon, and let out a terse breath. He had sent Luke and Solomon to bring you to the castle, where Barbatos offered you safety for if his plan failed...which he surely hoped it wouldn’t, but he wasn’t all too in-tune to how intelligent your boyfriend was. If he had had the knowledge to be so tactful in hiding his abuse, Simeon was unsure of what he was truly capable of. 

Not that he really stood a chance against a high-ranking angel, of course, but he didn’t want to resort to direct violence. Instead, he opted to chat over tea and butter biscuits. Simeon hoped he could be persuaded to leave willingly rather than by force, but he decided he could cross that bridge if they ever get there. 

A loud thump followed by a shout of your name caught Simeon’s attention, snapping him back from his thoughts. After some muffled thumps of objects being tossed around, the man’s bedroom door swung open, hitting the wall harshly. He hair was a tussled mess and he was dressed only in loose underwear that hung low on his hips. 

The man entered the kitchen first, opening and closing the fridge and calling out to you once more. Simeon straightened his back, keeping an eye on the archway separating the rooms as his footfalls grew closer. Upon finally entering the living room, Simeon now saw he had a beer in hand, and he looked quite agitated. He scanned the area quickly before his eyes settled on Simeon. 

The man raised an eyebrow before cracking open the can in his hand. “Hey, Sim. You seen Mc?”

“It’s Simeon.” He corrected pointedly. He didn’t know how many times he had to correct him before he stopped shorting his name, but Simeon was now on an even shorter fuse. 

“Right, whatever.” He took a swig of the beer before casually strolling to the chair adjacent to Simeon. “Anyways, have you seen them?” 

Simeon nodded. “Their presence was requested at the castle earlier this morning.” 

The man blew an annoyed puff of air through his teeth, taking another swig. “Of course. What about the other two? Chihuahua and Magic Boy?” 

Simeon struggled to give a forced smile, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “They were requested to come along with Mc. They won’t be back for some time.” 

The man nodded, chugging the rest of the can before crushing it and tossing it aside. Simeon sat, unblinking; waiting for his opportunity to speak. As if realizing now what Simeon was waiting for, the man turned his attention back to him. 

“What are you doin’ sitting out here in the damn dark?” He questioned, giving a light chuckle. “You look like you’re a member of the mafia.” 

Simeon’s smile fell slightly, his lips forming an unreadable straight line. His voice was flat, nearly emotionless, as he held back his clear contempt for the man. 

Simeon loved most living things, but definitely not this one. 

 “I was waiting for you.” Simeon tilted his head to the side slightly. “I’d like to sit down for some tea with you and just...talk- if you’d have me.” 

The man scoffed. “You make it sound so serious.” 

Simeon sat quietly, awaiting his answer. The man sighed after a moment and shrugged. 

“Well, It ain’t like I got nothing better to do. What do you want?” The man reached for a biscuit and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing obnoxiously loud. 

“I would like to talk to you about Mc.” 

The man nodded murmuring through his full mouth, pouring a glass of tea into the cup set in front of him. “Mmhmmf?” 

Simeon’s stared turned icy, knowingly seeing past his casual façade. “Specifically, I would like to ask that you stay away from them, and go back to the human world.” 

The man paused, the cup of tea just touching his lips. Simeon watched anxiously as he moved the cup down slightly lower, narrowing his eyes at the angel. “excuse me?”  

Simeon uncrossed his legs, leaning forward as the man took a large swig from his teacup. “I know what you’ve been doing to them, and frankly its abhorrent. So I simply ask that you agree to leave without a fuss. You won’t be allowed to see them anyway, and will likely be kicked out for misconduct, so it’s reasonably in your best interest.” 

The man crossed his arms over his chest, chuckling and shaking his head. “You don’t know shit, and you can’t prove shit even if you did. So I suggest you-”

“I saw them last night.” 

The man stopped his train of thought, eyes widening at the words that slipped past Simeon’s tongue, dripping thickly with contempt. “What?”

“Last night.” Simeon leaned back, mirroring the mans folded arms. “I saw the bruises, the gash, the scars. They told me what you have done; what you continue to do.” 

The man scoffed, now taking his turn in leaning forward. “Listen up, bible thumper. I don’t give a fuck what you think you saw, stay the fuck out of my relationship with Mc. It’s not like some prudish goody-two-shoes like you would stand a chance with them anyway, so just back the hell off, alright?” 

Simeon crossed his legs once more, his voice firm and intense. “I’m not going to let you keep abusing them.” 

At the words spoken, the man completely snapped. He flipped the coffee table over separating the two, sending the teapot smashing into the wall. The contents of the pot dripped down to the floor amongst the shattered ceramic, and stained the pristine blue wallpaper a deep green color. His chest heaved with the anger radiating through his body, his fists balled tightly as he postured over Simeon, who still sat unfazed by his reaction with his legs and arms crossed. 

“I’m only gonna tell you this once, angel, so listen up.” He approached threateningly, though he felt a twinge in his stomach that betrayed he may have still been feeling hung-over. He shoved a finger in Simeon’s face, his voice a low growl. “Mc is mine, you hear that? Nothing you can do will keep me away from them.” 

Finally Simeon uncrossed his legs and stood toe-to-toe with the man, feeling no fear of the clear threat he was trying to bring across. “They belong to no one, ___.” 

The man began to shake with rage, suddenly reeling back and punching Simeon directly in the face. Simeon fell to the floor, toppling over a lamp in the process. He quickly sat up staring up at the man with no changes to his expression. 

“If you’re going to stand in my way, I’ll kill you first.” He snarled, taking a step toward him. “And then I’ll kill them for opening their worthless trap.” 

Simeon fought back the panic rising within him as the man breathed heavily. For a moment, he believed his plan had failed- but then the man’s complexion became sickly. His eyes widened slightly as he felt a rippling wave of nausea and cramps rush through him. He doubled over in pain, falling to his knees in a fit of pained groans.

Simeon slowly stood up, now towering over the man who clutched his stomach in agony. Sweat began dripping off his body in beads, and he shook violently. Simeon couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“I told you that I would not allow you to keep abusing them.” He stated, pointedly. 

The man felt his stomach lurch, and projectile vomited all over the floor in front of him. He glanced over to where Simeon had taken a step back, avoiding the viscus liquid that clearly contained a primary mixture of blood and bile. A look of fear passed his eyes as he felt the cramps worsen, seemingly spreading throughout his abdomen. Through intense coughing, he blubbered out: “What the f-fuck did you do to me?!”

Simeon squatted down to be closer to the man’s eye level. The skin around his mouth began to give way to the flesh beneath, seemingly materializing under the acidic poison that Simeon had laced into the tea. He found himself feeling thankful that the amount the man drank was enough to destabilize his body, as he was clearly ready and willing to become violent. Blood oozed down the mans chin and onto the floor, taking bits and pieces of skin and flesh with it as the acid continued to eat away at the man’s flesh. 

Simeon scrunched up his nose in disgust, taking in the scent of what he could only describe as rotten flesh and sugar. “Hmpf. I wish Solomon would have told me the Death-Eel poison would have been this messy.” 

The man’s brows furrowed in confusion as he again vomited all over the floor. This time, what came out of the man’s stomach was more like blood mixed with bits and pieces of tissue from his throat and stomach lining. Simeon quickly jolted back, careful not to be hit in the crossfire of the poison. Solomon assured Simeon it had no affect on Angels or Demons outside a sensation of stomach upset or rash, but he was not about to test that theory. 

The man gurgled, his tongue only hanging in his mouth by a thin thread of muscle. His ability to say anything was completely gone, which Simeon found as a relief. Though his relief was soon turned into another wave of disgust as a small hole began burning into the mans throat, quickly expanding to seep out more blood. 

He really wished Solomon had told him what would actually happen. 

Simeon took some more steps back, watching in wide-eyed horror as the man screeched for help, only to be met with blood, stomach acid, and whatever parts of his insides the poison was tearing apart bursting from his throat. Shortly to follow was his abdomen, a clear trail forming where Simeon assumed his esophagus must be.  He finally found the ability to tear his gaze away as the man’s intestines and various other organs began spilling out of his body, the pained screams continuing to reverberate through his skull until his vocal cords finally disintegrated. 

Simeon felt...weird. He should feel guilty for doing this to this to him, but somehow, he felt more relieved than anything. He felt disgusted by the image of the man literally being eaten away from the inside-out, sure, but he couldn’t help but feeling he deserved it. As he looked back to the man, collapsed on the floor and barely breathing in a pool of his own blood and organs, Simeon managed to crack another smile, knowing Mc would be safe from his harm. He pulled out his phone, texting Barbatos and Solomon the good news. 

Simeon: It’s done. 👍

Simeon: He’s gone. 

Solomon: Good riddance. 

Barbatos: I’m glad you took action quickly, Simeon. It saved them from a horrid fate, based on what they’ve said. 

Barbatos: Mc is begging to see you. They’re very worried about your well-being. 

Simeon: Tell them I’m fine and that I’ll be on my way to the castle shortly. 

Simeon: Oh, and Solomon?

Solomon: ??

Simeon: Perhaps you can come here and clean up to mess left by the poison. I wish you would have told me what an gruesome display it was going to be...😑

Solomon: 😜

Solomon: Sure thing. 

Simeon shook his head, smile still plastered to his face as he carefully stepped around the remains of who was once the man who called himself your boyfriend. Before exiting the hall though, he ensured to grab one of the extra cupcakes Luke had made the previous day, trying to make an effort to brighten your mood. 

--------------------------------------------

“What do you mean he’s just...’gone’?” You ask, unsure if you believed the yarn Simeon had just spun. He expected you to believe that, after all he’s put you through, that your ex-boyfriend would just pack up and leave because he was asked? 

Simeon shrugged, a deranged look flashing behind his eye. He extended his hand out to yours, holding out a box for you to take. Inside, an adorable red cupcake with black and gold sprinkles stared back at you, almost begging to be eaten. You smiled warmly, taking the treat out of the box and biting into it. The red frosting decorated your lips in a bright ruby hue.

For a moment, Simeon’s brain flashed to an image of the man, blood spurting from his mouth as he tried to cling to the shred of life that remained for him. He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the image. “I want you to know that you’re safe now, Mc. I wont ever let anyone harm you again. Think of me...as your guardian Angel.” 

You smile warmly and take his hand, causing Simeon to blush. “Thank you...My Angel.” 

 Simeon smiled, but there was an uncertainty behind it. An Angel. Could he really call himself that after what he’d done? If anything, he didn’t find himself caring so much as you wrapped your free arm snuggly around his neck, telling him how grateful you were for his intervention and promises of keeping you safe. 

Simeon was not a violent man. 

Or at least...not until someone decided to hurt the ones he cared about so deeply. 

[epic-sorcerer]

Queer imagery in BBC Merlin

Content warning: kink/fetish, fisting in particular but I show I big image containing a long list of different kinks, homophobia, dom/sub dynamics, sex

Merlin is shown wearing a purple tunic in s4, despite the fact he is a servant and purple(especially with such saturation) was extremely expensive bc purple dye was so hard to make. Gwen also has a light purple dress(or maybe 2? It’s hard to tell). Even though it’s definitely lighter than Merlins tunic, it’s still expensive.

it was illegal for peasants to wear expensive fabrics because of the Sumptuary Law. Basically it makes sure that lower class people are not fashionable. However, BBC Merlin doesn’t seam to care about that law, considering Merlins other bright clothing so take this was a grain of salt.

Basically what I’m trying to say is that there’s no way they could have gotten their hands on these clothes without the help of nobles. Gwen might have, because she works with clothing and could have easily mixed blue and red dye together. Merlin probably not have because he’s never shown to be particularly materialistic or interested much in fashion, despite his bright clothes. Bright Purple would have been much, much harder to get.

It makes the most sense for Merlin and possibly Gwen too to have been gifted such expensive clothing by a noble for being a good servant. I’d imagine Arthur would be the one to give Merlin the tunic and morgana the dresses.

Why does this matter? Lavender(and also purple in general) was considered a queer color starting in the 19th century. Queer men especially were said to possess a “streak of lavender” and a serge of homophobia at the time was often referred to as the “Lavender Scare.” Purple and lavender is still used now to symbolize queerness.

Since Merlin is a modern interpretation of Arthurian myths, it would be perfectly plausible that this symbol was on purpose. Merlin/Arthur and Gwen/Morgana are both extremely popular ships and they are both shown to have a very deep form of trust(Gwen/Morgana being at the beginning of the show). Arthur and Morgana gifting Merlin and Gwen purple clothing could be show them they accept their queerness and/or signaling their own queer attraction to them.

Now, this next symbolism concerns only Merlin/Arthur.

Merlin is shown to have three neckerchiefs.

Navy blue, red, and light grey. Why does this matter? Well, let’s take a look at something called the handkerchief code, also known as the hanky code or “flagging.”

This code has its origins all the way back in time during the Wild West in the USA, but got more popular during the late 20th century in USA and UK gay bars. This code was used mainly by queer men and some nonbinary people to signal to other queers what they wanted sexually. While typically worn in people’s back pockets, a handkerchief could also be worn around one’s neck to show they are a versatile and experienced.

According to this code, Merlin is into;

Red: fisting and getting fisted. This color was hard to get an exact shade from, but the second best option was dark red for double fisting which is honestly so similar I’m not sure if it really matters much.

Light grey: stone topping and getting fucked by a stone top

Navy blue: fucking and being fucked anally

For any one wanting to make their own interpretations of Merlins neckerchief colors(the lighting makes it hard to tell the exact ones) have a look at this handy chart

Not only that, but Arthur is seen wearing a favour on his left arm in s3 ep 4.

What’s a favour? It’s a fabric strip of affection commonly given by maidens to knights before a tournament as a symbol of good luck. It’s often a very important scarf, hankcerchlif , towel, really any bit of cloth that can be tied around someone’s arm. This is also a popular trope in historical media for a female love interest to give a favour to a male one to show chemistry between them.

Regardless of your stance on Merlins gender identity, you have to admit how commonly Merlin is shown to be gender nonconforming(GNC) or otherwise be associated with “womanly” qualities. Especially in a society so heteronormative, the only “pure” option for a knight receiving a romantic gesture would have it be from a woman. If the token was from a queer man, it would also out the noble and cause lots of horrific chaos and destroy both of their reputations.

Even if it was common for women to give knights favours, queer men still existed and with that came romantic gestures—this time hopefully more secret.

Even though the favour on Arthur’s arm doesn’t look exactly like Merlin’s neckerchief, Merlin was the only person to speak with him while preparing for the tournament. Also, the original theorist who I linked in my sources also pointed out that Merlins neckerchief looks lopsided. Almost like Merlin tore off a bit of it and hastily tied it back on.

Although this theory is definitely flawed, it doesn’t matter. Arthur is still wearing a red handkerchief on his left arm. But what does that tell us exactly?

Regardless of wether or not it was Merlin’s, the red is the same shade and also implies Arthur is also into fisting. What about the placement? Sicne it’s on his left, it shows that he is a top/dom, meaning that he prefers to be the one fisting. Since it is worn around his upper arm, it shows that he is simply into the fetish, compared to what other placements mean. In another source, it shows taht upper arm means switch, but because Arthur is wearing it on his left it wouldn’t really make sense for him to signal being a “top-switch” compared to being a top and having the fetish in general.

If you look closely, you can see a different colored stripe on the favour. It’s hard to tell exactly what the color is, it could be yellow, gold, orange, etc. because the color is so dubious, I’ll just leave y’all with a list of color meanings that may apply to Arthur’s favour.

YELLOW: pisser/watersports kink

YELLOW, Pale: spitter/spit kink

MUSTARD: Has 8+ inch dick

GOLD: two looking for one

ORANGE: anything anytime

Also, it’s important to bring up what many in thsi fandom refer to as the “fisting scene.” Where Arthur threatens Merlin by showing him his gloved fist and pulling a bit at the glove.

In the blooper, you can see Merlin’s actor(Colin Morgan) breaking character and giggling as Arthur shows him his fist. Many in the fandom agree that this was a clear innuendo for fisting, and it is very well possible.

Merlin is shown hitting Arthur and saying he was just doing some horse play, but still indirectly convincing Arthur that he needs to teach Merlin a lesson. This is actually a common act in BDSM sex, where the submissive person purposely angers the dominant into punishing them in a way that somehow involves sex or fetish play.

If you look closely, you can see Merlin is wearing at kinky red fisting handkerchief, showing Merlin is perfectly capable of being a submissive fistee. Also, the hanky code also includes other symbols such as latex or rubber gloves that, surprise surprise, also mean fisting. Although it’s more likely Arthur’s gloves where made of leather, it can still further be interpreted as a fisting symbol if you want. Either way, Arthur’s favour still holds water as he is undoubtedly the dom in this situation.

Also, Merlin is very impulsive and a madlad. Tell me he wouldn’t wear his secret fetish symbols infrount of stuck up, Roman Catholics who are none the wiser. He’d probably think it’s hilarious which is probably why he wears them almost everyday. Merlin loves playfully misbehaving(and is also a brat sometimes) so it makes sense for him to have some dangerous fun.

Now, you may be asking. Why does this matter? At the end of the day, it probably wasn’t intentional. Well, there is alwyas room for doupt BUT I do have some ferther proof. One of the co writers of BBC Merlin—Johnny Capps—actually won a Stone Wall Award. You know, an award named after a core part of queer culture?

The award’s website and Wikipedia page say they give the award for art that describes the LGBT experience well. While I am unsure why or what Capps made to be nominated, it still shows he is very much in touch with queer culture. Capp himself even said at an interview about Merlin, “... in the end, deep, deep down it’s about sexuality and things you just can’t tackle head-on.”

Well, what says more about sexuality than the main characters fist fucking each other? That’s a lot of sexuality. While I am unsure of Capp’s age, he does look to be about middle age and it would make sense for him to know about a code popularized in a 70s to 90s. Especially for someone who has made multiple queer oriented stories in his life time.

Sources:

Why is purple considered the color of royalty?

Sumptuary law

How lavender became a symbol of LGBTQ resistance

How Lavender Became a Symbol of LGBTQ Resistance(part 2)

flagging opinicus rampant

Handkerchief code

DO YOU KNOW THE HANKY CODE?

Picspam: The Red Favour (Proof of Arthur Wearing Merlin's Favour in 3x04)

Five medieval love tokens

The Lady's Favour

Hanky codes

Nominees for Stonewall Awards announced

Merlin series 5 spoiler-free launch report

Pls reblog I spent hours on this /np 😭👊

[saphirered]

Hey if you don’t mind could you write just a big fluffy Grog piece where I’m at right now I need me some Goliath cuddles 🖤🤍🖤🤍

Hope this turned out to your liking! 😘

There you are seated at your desk bend over stacks of books and paper scribbling as you go. You’ve been at this for more hours than you can count but you need to get this done. For your own sake because you don’t think you can handle another sleepless night just stuck thinking about this. Best to just get it over with. You’re hyper focused, driven by a lack of sleep. Everything around you as faded into the abyss, the scribbling of pen on paper drowning out the sounds of the world you. If no one comes to fetch you you’ll forget about breakfast, lunch, dinner, what time is it again? Nevermind. You’re almost done. Keep going!

Grog paces back and forth your door at the end of the hallway, book in one hand crumpled piece of paper encasing a feather quill that’s seen much better days. He takes a step closer in the direction of your chambers but refrains from taking another and goes back to pacing. He doesn’t want to disturb you. He knows you’re working on something important but you’ve been cooped up in your chambers for two days now and you haven’t come out to eat anything since lunch the day before. Two days is a long time to go without food and you surely haven’t had any Strongjaw Ale. He doesn’t know how you cope without.

“Hey big guy. Still hasn’t left the room?” Vax comes out of nowhere trying to jump scare the barbarian. Grog, although scared won’t admit it and play like it hadn’t affected him at all. Though, a keen ear could hear the grip on the quill tighten and crack. Unlucky for him Vax’ildan has keen ears. It doesn’t take a genius Vax worries for you too. It’s not healthy behaviour and you desperately need to eat something.

“Why don’t you go get something from the kitchen and bring them some food?” Vax had seen Grog’s pacing and moment of hesitation. He knows better than to play into his affections for you or whatever he’s doing with a book and piece of parchment filled with squiggly lines resembling letters.

“Yes. That is a good idea, I came up with myself but since you mention it, I think we are in agreement.” Grog holds his nose high. He should have thought of that himself but the half elf doesn’t know that, does he? Vax pats his arm. Totally pulled that off!

“Excuse me while I go get some food.” Grog excuses himself with the same attitude of a genius. Or at least a genius in his opinion. If he acts like this is his interpretation of a genius then what does he think you are? Vax doesn’t want to know and instead lets the goliath fetch you some much needed food.

Book and quill sticking out of his pocket, cask of ale under one arm and carrying a plate with a variety of things; mostly meats and things he’d actually seen you enjoy and knows you like. See? He can be a good listener! Grog approaches your door. Now how is he gonna knock? He knows you hate it when people just storm into your room. His arms are full. He’s got legs though. But what if he spills the ale? He’ll just gently bump into the door with his shoulder. Keyword; gently.

You hear a muffled knock on your door but you almost have this equation right! Just a little more. The knock returns a bit louder this time. You can’t snap out of it now! Almost! Another even louder knock more akin to something or someone slamming into your door. Ha! Success! You jump from your seat but are unsure if it’s because of your successful completion of your endeavour or because of the hulking goliath tumbling into your chambers.

Grog shoulder checks the door one more time and yes he’ll admit he might have been a tiny bit too rough as the door bursts open, he falls through. He allows the cask of ale to roll from his grasp and decides to save the plate of food. There you are jumping up from your seat nearly spilling a half drunken goblet but you too save it from spilling. You make eye contact with Grog and you burst out in laughter at the goliath quite literally presenting you a meal on his knees face inches away from the floor preventing a disaster.

“I brought you some food.” Grog states as he slowly gets up. He doesn’t dare look up at you yet both embarrassed and fearing he may have disturbed your work. When you walk around your desk over to him you take the tray from his hands. You nudge his arm, a thing you do to ask him to lean down a little, and when he does kiss his cheek. Immediately the worry disappears and the happy giddy Grog returns. He picks up the cask of ale as you guide him along to your desk and begin to clear the area to make space for the meal Grog brought.

Inspecting the contents presented on the fancy if not oversized platter, you notice they mainly contain meats which leaves you to think dinner but the waffles and fruits throw you off a little. Is this breakfast, lunch or dinner? You don’t know what to think. Grog takes one of the cups, the normal sized one first and fills it with ale presenting it to you. You accept it with a thank you pulling over a seat he could comfortably sit in.

You enjoy your meal, Grog having brought enough you tell him you’re not eating all of this alone so he better join in. You know he’d been eying that chicken, practically drooling. Grog fills you in on all the things you’ve missed in your uninterrupted work days. He may hype up some parts and underrate others, not mention some important things because he thinks they’re unimportant but you appreciate it nonetheless and enjoy the conversation. Grog gets more excited and loves every laugh and response you give hence him exaggerating some things knowing they’ll make you laugh.

Grog had forgotten the book, quill and parchment in his pocket until he adjusted his seating to be more comfortable and heard something creak, or more like crack and something tickle his bare stomach. He suppresses a giggle and you notice. Grog tries to move so the feather can’t tickle him but in doing so he makes it worse; the more he moves the more it tickles his side.

“Grog, is there something you need to share?” You question giving the goliath an opportunity to come clean about what the hell is up with him. You’re half suspecting some kind of prank from Vax or Scanlan to be the cause of this but you must admit you’re surprised when he pulls out a broken quill, crumpled piece of parchment and a book and puts them on the table. Grog looks down hiding his face from you as much as he can. You’re unsure if he’s embarrassed or nervous.

You grab the parchment and begin unfolding it. Grog squeaks quickly pressing his fingers to his lips. You give him a look. Eyes fall upon the parchment and you notice the top half as dwarvish while the second half is common. The lettering isn’t the neatest but it’s readable and has seen some practice. On the back you see everyone’s names written out, most misspelled but it’s clear they’re your names. There’s little drawings with each name some a bit juvenile to where you entertain the thought he might have drawn some inspiration from your satire ‘satyr’ friend… They are actually quite funny.

“Did you do this?” You ask as Grog is midway through eating his own fist in suspense.

“Yes.” It’s the tiniest squeak possible. You don’t know how that sound came out of the goliath’s mouth. You turn it over and return to the writing giving it a closer look.

“It says ‘can you teach me how to read please.’” Grog says awaiting your response.

“Why the sudden interest? I know Pike’s been working on dwarvish with you. Don’t you like her teachings?”

“No. I do. I just…. I’d like to… I want to read this.” Grog grabs the book and you read the title. It’s your favourite. It’s not an obscure story no one’s ever read. It’s a common fairytale collection you grew up with. No matter the age, everyone loves these stories, if anything they grow more interesting with age and the ability to comprehend them better.

“I like you and you like books so maybe if I got better at reading I could help you and you won’t have to spend your time alone working.” Grog admits and it makes your heart melt. You know how hard it is for Grog to read and write and to know he wants to learn more for you, is too much to bear. It makes you a bit emotional. You get up and walk around the desk engulfing the goliath in the biggest hug possible.

“Of course I’ll teach you, Grog. I’d love nothing more.” Happily his arms wrap around you and pull you even closer to where you’re lifted off your feet. You know this is a sign of happiness from the man.

“Really?” He chirps and you nod giving him a kiss to his cheek.

“Of course.” You smile. Grog releases you but sits you down on his lap grabbing the book.

“Can we start now?” He’s excited flipping to a random page in the book. He’s very glad there’s pictures in this one too. You begin explaining the fundamentals of the story hoping that context will make it easier for him to understand. Reading word for word is one thing so you try to make it easier so he doesn’t have to focus on deciphering what he’s reading about just yet and focus on the words.

It takes a good amount of time but you get through the first page. Grog’s aware you could have finished the whole book by the time he finished the first page but you don’t mind and are enjoying teaching him. The smile and kiss you give him ever time he finishes a paragraph makes him feel giddy on the inside. He knows you notice and makes you vow to never tell the others.

[sharkselfies]

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 1

Since some folks requested it on Twitter, I’ve started transcribing The Minds Behind The Terror podcast episodes! Below the cut you’ll find episode 1, where showrunners Dave Kajganich and Soo Hugh talk to Dan Simmons, the author of the novel The Terror, about episodes 1-3 of the show. They discuss Simmons’s initial inspiration for writing the book, the decisions they made to adapt it into a television series, and the depictions of some of the characters such as the Tuunbaq, Hickey, and “Lady Silence.”

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 1 

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

Dave Kajganich: Hello! Welcome to Minds Behind The Terror podcast. I’m Dave Kajganich, I am a creator and one of the showrunners of the AMC show The Terror, and I’m here in the studio with executive producer and co-showrunner Soo Hugh.

Soo Hugh: Hello!

DK: And we welcome today the author of the sublime novel The Terror, on which our show is based, author Dan Simmons, calling in from Colorado. Welcome, Dan! Hi! 

Dan Simmons: Hi Dave, thank you. 

DK: So let’s start with the very beginning. This was a mystery from actual naval history that you decided to transform into a novel that was crossed with Gothic horror. Can you tell us a little bit about where you got the idea from this, how you went about preparing to write it, anything that can give us insight into how you blended all of these remarkable genres into this incredible book.

DS: I’ve known since I was a kid that I wanted to tell a story about either the North or South Pole. And the reason is in 1957, 58, when I was very young, actually I was just a fetus, they had the international geophysical year, and that really caught my imagination. Now the international geophysical year saw cooperation between American and Soviet scientists, it was the height of the Cold War, that’s the first time they submit(?) a permanent base at the South Pole, and I fell in love with Arctic stories. I had one book left on a book contract with a publisher I really liked, and we hadn’t decided what that book was, and I wanted to write a scary story about the Arctic, in this case the Northern Arctic, and that happened because I was doing a lot of research on Antarctica and just couldn’t figure out what the macabre, Gothic, scary part would be. I wanted to put it in, but I didn’t think they’d go for, you know, an eight foot tall vampire penguin. 

[laughter]

DK: You might be surprised! 

DS: There was a footnote on a book I was reading about the Franklin Expedition, which I had never heard of, and I decided that’s what I was gonna write about, and it had a tremendous amount of the unknown that I could fill in, that’s what novelists love. And so I told my editors excitedly that this was what I was gonna do, I would call it The Terror after the HMS Terror that went with the Erebus, got stuck in the ice, all the crew disappeared in history… And they said no. 

[laughter]

DS: ...it was the first time the publishers did that. I said, “Why not? I think it’s gonna be a pretty good novel.” And they said, “Look, nobody’s interested in a bunch of people that’ve been dead for 150 years.” 

SH: That sounds like some of our meetings.

[laughter]

DS: So I did what maybe you do, in such a meeting, I just thanked them, and I liked them all, and I had a good dinner(?) and I said goodbye, and bought back my last book on the contract and went out and wrote it on spec. 

SH: Well why don’t we take a step back, Dave, and why don’t you tell us about how you found Dan’s book and that experience?

DK: Sure! Dan, you might remember some of these steps from your side of it, which is that originally this was auctioned by Universal as a feature, and I sort of tried to get the rights and was a bit too late, and tracked them down to the producers at Universal who were running the project and got myself hired as the screenwriter for a feature adaptation. By the time I was ready to start actually committing an outline to the paper, Universal had let the rights go because there was a competing project. It was interesting to sort of rack up reasons why people wanted to make it but didn’t feel that they could pull the trigger, and we were so grateful when AMC finally called us back and said, “Look, we’ve figured out a model where we can do this as a limited series,” it really felt like ten episodes was a great length for this, because we could blend genres in a way that, you know, we could unpack sort of slowly, more slowly than a lot of shows would’ve done, and drive the plot as much as we could, like the novel, with character choices and decisions as opposed to just horror kind of entering the frame and taking over for one set piece after another. So it was a long journey, getting this to AMC, but at the end of the day I think we found the right home for it.

DS: I can no longer imagine a two hour version, feature film version of this story, and I can’t imagine a second season of this story, I think it was just right.

SH: It does feel like we did a ten hour cinematic novel. 

[audio from the show]

Crozier: Only four of us at this table are Arctic veterans. There’ll be no melodramas here--just live men, or dead men. 

SH: Dan, Dave and I talk about how addictive the research gets for this when you start going down the rabbit hole, how did you approach the research?

DS: I think most novelists run into that, but since I write a lot of quasi-historical novels, at least set in history, I get totally addicted to going down the rabbit hole. Readers say, “Well, Simmons’ book is too long, and the descriptions of things are too exhausting,” but I watch your characters go on deck and there are all the things and views and everything that I tried so hard to describe and then people tell me, y’know, “talky, verbose,” and in print I have to do it that way, but you just pan the camera a little bit. 

DK: You have words, we have images! For every thousand of yours, we get one!

DS: Yeah.

SH: But I remember this passage in your book where it talks about all the different ices, and you vest it with so much psychological import. We talk about that passage a lot in the writers room, it was one of our highlights, of this is how you do great descriptive writing.

DK: And you made so many parallels between things like the environments of the ships and characters, you built a kind of code book for the show without realizing you were doing it, which is making visual metaphors out of a lot of these things that would normally just be exposition or historical detail.

SH: Well especially between Crozier and the ship, I mean when you hear about Crozier’s relationship with Terror, and you have so many amazing passages about, you know, the groan of the ship and how it, y’know, and you cut to a scene with Crozier and how you feel that the bones of Crozier is embedded in the ship, and we really took a lot from that. 

DS: Well I noticed that on one of the episodes where Lord Franklin [sic] is trying to get back in touch with Crozier, you know, trying to be friends with him again, I think it’s a brilliant episode you guys wrote.

[show audio]

Franklin: You’ve succeeded in avoiding Erebus most of the winter.

Crozier: I’m a captain. I’m--I’m peevish off my own ship. I leave it and I hear disaster knocking at its door, before I’m ten steps away.

DS: And that was beautifully written, that. You got so much of Crozier right there.

DK: It was a pleasure to write these characters on the backs of your writing of these characters, because you really--I mean, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to do, as you know, from having written, you know, a whole long string of historical books, is to make these people’s psychologies feel as modern as they must have felt in their day, while still being able to articulate some of the blind spots of being from the eras they were from. 

I’m curious from sort of a history nerd point of view, if people watch the series and like the series, and read the book and like the book, and want to know more about this expedition, what’s the first book about the Franklin Expedition you would point people to? What was most helpful or most interesting in your research? 

DS: I apologize, I can’t think of the name of it, but it’s a collection of stories about both the South and North Pole, and so it’s a short section on the Franklin Expedition, but it didn’t make mistakes, and most of the other books that I read, uh, keyed, and videos for that matter, like PBS did a story about the Franklin Expedition, but they keyed off a 1987 attempt by several doctors to figure out what happened to the crew, and they exhumed three crewmen’s bodies from the first island where they stayed the first winter, and those crewmen had only been on the ship a couple of months, but they decided because of a high lead content that the lead had poisoned them and then made them stupid, and made them paranoid and everything, but they didn’t compare that test of lead with any background people in London at the time, and later they did, so I didn’t believe the lead thing.

DK: Well that’s the fascinating thing about a mystery with this many parts and pieces, kind of in flux, is, you know, you can create all kinds of competing narratives about it, and what’s fascinating about writing a fictional version is you can’t have that kind of ambiguity, you have to make a decision. I think people will enjoy very much ways that the show and the book have a similar point of view, and also ways that they diverge in their points of view, because there are so many ways to tell this story--

SH: Well you know how much we invest responsibility in the audience as well, right?

DK: Sure.

SH: In terms of your book and our show as well, we’re not against interpretation, that there’s a responsibility on the audience’s part to put together--we’re not gonna hand feed them. There’ll be some people who put more of an onus on Franklin, and others who would say, “You know, if I was in that position, I probably would’ve made the same decision,” “Oh no, this definitely killed the men,” “No, this killed them!” and that dialogue is exciting, you know, when you read fans talk about your show and your books and really smart, insightful ways. 

[show audio]

Franklin: Would it help if I said that I made a mistake? 

Crozier: You misunderstand me, Sir John, I--I only meant to describe why I brood, not that I judge.

DS: I don’t worry about who or what my reading audience is. People ask me about that and I don’t imagine a certain reader. But I’ve always tried to write for somebody who’s more intelligent than I am. My perfect reader would be just smart as hell, speak eight languages, you know, have fantastic world experiences, and I want to write something that will please that person, and I think your show does the same thing.

DK: Well we were--that was our motto! We wanted to be sort of the dumbest members of our collaboration and there’s a sort of horrifying moment when you realize that’s come true. 

[laughter]

[show background music]

DK: Tell us a little bit about why you made the decisions to tell the story in the order you told it, and whether you sort of felt like there was anything from the way you had told it that we were--or a missed opportunity. We’d love to know sort of what your experience of that was. 

DS: I don’t think there were any missed opportunities in terms of not adapting my way of telling it, and I can’t remember all the reasons for why I broke it down that way, some of them were just very localized to, you know, when I was writing that particular bit. But I do know that it gains a lot by being told chronologically the way you’re doing it, so for me that seems now the logical way to tell it again.

DK: Have you ever read the novel in chronological order? When we hired writers for the writers room, we gave them a list of what the chapters were like in chronological order, and I think we asked half the room to read it in your order and half the room to read it in chronological order so we could have a discussion, a meaningful discussion about whether there were things about telling it without being in chronological order that we wanted to embrace or not. It was a fantastic experience and I wonder if you’ve ever read your chapters in chronological order? ‘Cause it’s also a fantastic book!

[laughter]

DS: I haven’t read it that way, they were that way in my mind before I started getting fancy and breaking them up and moving them around in time and space, but I would love to have seen that experiment.

DK: The reason we can get away with it in the show is because there is a loved book out there that people trust, and you know, it is a classic in this genre, so I mean this is a perfect example of, you know, the amount of gratitude we owe the book, because we got away with a lot of things that maybe we wouldn’t have been able to get away with because you came before us. 

SH: And speaking of those rabid fans, Dan, it’s been really interesting reading audience reactions to the show from people who’ve loved the books and who just naturally will compare the two, and we’ve been heartened by just how supportive our fans have become--are of the show. There is this controversy, some people like our choice to give Lady Silence a voice and some people feel it was sacrilege to your book, where do you fall on that? DS: At first I was surprised. In fact when you were hunting for an actress for Lady Silence and I read about that, it said somebody who’s fluent in this Inuit language and this Inuit language, and I said, “What the hell?”

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut to her dying father] 

DS: Having seen her with the tongue and heard her, and knowing the different reason they call her Lady Silence, it all works for me and I was also surprised when Captain Crozier could speak fairly fluent, you know, dialect, ‘cause I had him just not understanding a thing.

[show audio]

[Crozier speaking Inuktitut to Silna in the same scene as above]

DS: I love it when readers get rabid about not changing something from a book, and I have to talk to them sometimes, not ‘cause I have a lot of things adapted, this is the first one, but I love movies. They say “Aren’t you worried it will hurt your book?” and first I explain Richard Comden(?)’s idea that you can’t hurt a book anyway, except by not reading it, I mean the books are fine, no matter how bad some adaptation becomes. Books abide, and so I wasn’t concerned. With the changes that I see, I get sorta tickled, whereas some readers get upset, and they just have that set. So I think that the vast majority of viewers haven’t--well, I know the vast majority haven’t read the book, haven’t heard of the book, probably, they’re gonna keep watching because of the depth of the characters, and that’s based on the first two episodes, and I agree with them completely.

[show audio]

[Silna speaking Inuktitut]

Crozier: She said that if we don’t leave now, we’re going to “huk-kah-hoi.”

Blanky: Disappear. 

SH: We get asked a lot of questions about the supernatural element of the show and the way a monster does or does not figure in the narrative, and seeing our episodes, did it feel surprising or did it feel faithful to the way you imagined it as well to your book? 

DS: It was surprising to me at how well it was done, because it’s hard, I know, to show restraint in a series like this, and certainly in a movie, but it’s hard to show restraint at showing and explaining the monster. 

[show audio]

[ominous music, Tuunbaq roaring, men screaming]

DS: The way you did it in the first few episodes to me were just lovely, just, you know, a hint of a glance at something and then you see the results of this creature, so that’s what I tried to do in the novel, one of the reasons I moved around through space and time, part of what I wanted to do was not cheapen the story and not cheapen the reality of these poor men dying by just throwing in a monster, and so I tried to do it in a way that would not disrespect the true tale, and I believe you’re doing it the same way I tried. 

DK: The way you incorporated the supernatural into the book, I mean, I was a fan of it when I first read it. It was jaw dropping the way that it fits so well on a level of plot, on a level of character, and on a level of theme. So when we got the green light to adapt it I was so confident that we were going to be able to do something with it that would be able to be nuanced because the bones of it are so organically terrific.

SH: It helped us know what we didn’t want to do. That formed so much of our conversation, of “this is what we do not want, this is what we do not want,” and slowly you whittled down to getting down to the essence of what this thing had to be.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq growling]

DK: Another character from the book that really stands out for fans that they are wondering what in the world we’re doing with is Manson. [laughter] And I was curious what you made of the fact that he is pretty invisible in the first three episodes of the show, and that some of his plot beats have been given to a character called Gibson, who I don’t remember is--I don’t think he’s featured very much in the novel. And I wondered if that caught you off guard or if you sort of intuitively had a sense of what we were doing in making that change? 

DS: Any discussion of Manson to me leads to Hickey converting him to his future, his tribe, the tribe he wants to have, group of worshippers, that I think Hickey wants to have, but he does it by sex below decks. Hickey’s not gay at all, he’s a manipulator, to me, and he was manipulating Manson who was big and dumb, in my book, he’s manipulating him by this sexual encounter. But I was curious whether you were worried about showing that?

DK: Well, we weren’t worried about showing characters having same-sex affairs or relationships. We wanted to make room in Hickey’s character for actual affection, or if not affection then companionship, or some kind of connection.

[show audio]

Hickey: Lieutenant Irving! I was hoping we’d meet. 

Crewman: Mind the grease there, sir. 

Hickey: I wanted to... thank you… for your help. For your discretion, I mean. 

Irving: Call it anything but help, Mr. Hickey. Please. I exercised clemency for a man abused by a devious seducer.

DK: We wanted to make sure that Hickey had access to command in some way that a steward, an officer’s steward, would be able to provide him, that an able seaman wouldn’t be able to provide him, and that was really valuable to us in terms of charting out all of these character stories, was how does he know what he knows about how command is dissatisfied or where the fractures are if he can’t see them from where he’s sleeps in his cot in the forecastle. 

SH: I mean we know that there were relations between the same sex on ships, it just was part of this world. Not to belie that there was serious consequences for it, but you know, we have 129 characters, and we wanted them to feel fully fledged and rich, and, you know, passions do naturally develop and have no characters engaged in sexual relations would have felt just as odd and perhaps even more controversial, and when Irving discovers Gibson and Hickey, his shock is from such a subjective point of view of his moral center. It’s not the camera’s perspective, right? Our camera’s very neutral in that scene. It’s Irving, that character at that point in the show, that is infusing a sense of horror, that’s his horror moment.

DS: I’d like to add that it’s not the gay connection that would cause criticism, but I was flayed alive because the most openly quote “gay” unquote character, that is, Hickey, you know, maybe hunting for affection but definitely hunting for power, he’s the only one they said in reviews, and he’s a killer and a bad person, so I’m homophobic, but I was flayed alive for that. The word homophobic appeared in about 80 reviews. Nobody mentioned the purser, who uh--

DK: Right, Bridgens and Peglar.

DS: Yeah. I thought he was a fascinating character. I loved getting glimpses of him in the series because he’s super smart, he’s super wise, he’s probably wiser than any of the commanders, ahd he’s obviously in love with--who is it that he’s in love with in the show?

DK: Peglar. 

DS: Yes, that makes sense. And, uh, so Peglar says, you know, “Is this another Herodotus?” and, “No, I’m giving you Swift now,” he’s educating the man he cares for. 

[show audio]

Hickey: I understand you cleared up our “association” for Lieutenant Irving? Gibson: You spoke to him.

Hickey: Mhm.

Gibson: Directly?

(beat)

Christ, Cornelius, I’d reassured him.

Hickey: Cornelius Hickey is a “devious seducer.” That was your--that was your reassurance? You’ve got some face, you know that? 

DK: We wouldn’t have dramatized Hickey’s story if we weren’t also going to pull in Peglar and Bridgens’ story, because we knew that people, you know, are predisposed to sort of make that kind of quick assumption, and we just wanted to make sure that the show didn’t have that blind spot and reflected the book, which also doesn’t have that blind spot. 

SH: We had those same questions with Lady Silence, and I’m sure you did as well. When we meet her, she’s a frightened young woman who’s about to lose her father, and that’s a universal character moment that anyone can relate to, and the otherness is sort of--is secondary, but then once--in the end scene of 1.02, when she’s sitting there grieving her father and then you have that language barrier with everyone else, we worked with Nive on this because we wanted to make sure the language itself was as accurate as possible, so when you say disappear making sure that the disappear in our language means the same thing as disappear in her language. I think whenever you have characters that feel othered in most media and you’re bringing them into your show, Dave and I also just wanted to make sure we weren’t swaying on the pendulum on the other side and being almost too careful about touching them, and with Nive I think when you have an actor of that talent, she was strong, she was representing a voice that she felt very confident in, and that was very reassuring for us.

DS: And it works well, and when her father’s dying, she throws herself on his chest and says “I’m not ready, it’s too soon, I’m not ready,” and I love that in the show because if she’s gonna become a Shaman he’s dying you know it’s not reached that point of education yet where she feels secure and later on you know beyond what we’re discussing today she becomes to me in the show I see her as more and more majestic.

SH: I do love the word majestic ‘cause I think it describes pretty much all of our characters. I agree, I do think there is something very sublime about who they have become at the end because when you go through that much trials and tribulations, it’s this beautiful human spirit to endure. 

DS: I think that’s one of the central themes of the story that you’ve brought out so clearly. In most post-apocalypse, you know, terrible situation movies and shows, everybody turns nasty as hell, they start shooting each other, it’s just like WWIII when they should be helping each other survive, and I found even though there was controversy, even though there was opposition in this story, people opposing against each other, still that they rose to the occasion. And that is so rare I think in much media these days or even books where the characters are themselves and they do the best they can, and when things get bad they rise to the occasion.

DK: The first conversation you and I had about the book, you know, I was basically pitching you sort of what I thought thematically the book was about, and I talked a lot about, that in a disaster like this, a kind of moral emergency, that we would get a chance to unpack what is sort of best and worst in these characters’ souls.

DS: I confuse readers often when I was on book tour for this book, and it was a long time ago, I’ve written a few million words since then, but I confused people by saying that if you want a theme for the survival story of The Terror, it’s love. It’s love between the men. And just unstinting love. And this came out in a piece of dialogue, in the first two episodes.

[audio from the show]

Franklin: I’ll not have you speak of him uncharitably, James. He is my second. If something were to happen to me, you would be his second. You should cherish that man. 

Fitzjames: Sometimes I think you love your men more than even God loves them, Sir John. 

Franklin: For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong. 

DS: That to me was right the theme I was working with, and with Crozier who shows it a different way, with Fitzjames who’s struggling to show leadership, and between the men despite their hierarchy and the British hierarchy, the rank and lieutenants and so forth, eventually they come down to loving the men they try to save. And I found that lovely. 

[The Terror opening theme music plays]

DK: Thank you so much for listening to The Minds Behind The Terror, join us in our next edition when we talk about episodes 4-6 with the additional guest Adam Nagaitis phoning in from London. We will see you soon!

[preview snippet from the next episode plays]

DS: I’ll confess something else to Adam, the first time I watched it, I thought your character was a good guy because he jumped down in that grave to put the lid back on.

[laughter]

[gubler-me-up]

Broken Telephone

Request: Spencer Request. You're new to the team, having transferred from the NYPD and are also studying for a Doctorate at the same time. Spencer falls in love with you straight away, but saddens when he hears you talking to JJ about a guy you do a load of fun activities with a guy and a little girl. He assumes you're taken and it breaks his heart. Eventually, he finds out you were talking about your cousin and his daughter & asks you out on a date, and you say yes.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This was a really cute, fun request to write! Starting it was tough though because I didn’t know the exact tone I wanted for it. I hope it’s okay though! When I was reading through the beginning part before I edited it I was like “I have a whole degree in English and I can’t even write properly i hate it here” LOL the first paragraph was a MESS but I fixed it. I think the rest is fine! Enjoy, love!!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None

Word count: 1.7k

-------------

Upgrading from NYPD to the BAU was probably your greatest career move to date. You hated how NYPD operated and dealt with crimes. It made you so frustrated. If you weren’t born and raised in New York you wouldn’t even be a part of NYPD. You felt as if New York would always be your home, but sometimes you had to branch out to find what’s best for you.

Moving to Washington, D.C. was a completely new start for you and you felt as if it were only right you changed a few things about yourself. First, you cut your hair shorter. Very cliche of a restart arc, but you thought you’d feel free with less weight weighing your head down. You also bought an actual house. After years of living in a small, cramped apartment you thought it was right to invest in something bigger and more welcoming.

The biggest thing you were proud of during the transition to the BAU was finishing your Ph.D. in Linguistics. You had wanted to complete it years ago, but found it difficult to focus on it while at NYPD. With the bureau they allowed you to work on your Ph.D. as long as you worked your agreed-upon hours every week. It felt amazing to finally have a support net to motivate you towards your dreams.

You weren’t the only one excited about your Ph.D. though. Your coworker, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t wait to see you during your time in to discuss your Ph.D. with you. As soon as you walked to your desk, he’d be the first one to greet you with a huge, lovable smile, rosy red cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. You had never seen someone so animated over linguistics before. If you two weren’t talking about linguistics or random facts he would spurt out, the conversation was about you.

On one particular day though, the good doctor was running late to work. You were kind of disappointed you weren’t greeted with a daily dose of facts early in the morning. The second best thing happened when JJ walked towards your desk with two Starbucks coffees.

“Ugh, if I knew you a few years earlier, I would have married you before Will could ever dream to,” you said.

She laughed. “I don’t think Spence would allow that to happen without a fight. He’s been quite the busy bee around you.”

She handed you your drink as you pondered on what she said. Just maybe he had a slight crush on you. The way he expressed his interest was adorable for sure. You preferred his way of flirting over the typical sexualized pick-up lines many men in your life have used.

“Are you saying super-genius Dr. Spencer Reid has a crush on me? I won’t believe it until he runs some tests about your theory,” you said as you took a sip of your coffee.

“Maybe he’ll ask you out one of these days between statistics,” she said.

You smiled. “That would be nice. I just hope he doesn’t do it this weekend. Remember I told you how Adrian was visiting this weekend? He’s bringing the little one with him.”

“Oh, really? What’s their name?”

“Her name’s Rhea. She’s the cutest little thing ever.”

You pulled out your phone to look for a picture of them. You found a picture of the three of you from a few months ago before you left for D.C. You turned your phone to JJ and she instantly melted.

“Oh my gosh, she’s adorable,” she said.

You proudly smiled. “Right. She’s the cutest four-year-old I know. I think I was the happiest one in the room when I met her for the first time. Adrian was a puddle of tears and nerves from the reality of taking care of this little girl forever. He treats her like an absolute princess.”

“You both are lucky to have her in your lives. She looks like a ray of sunshine.”

“She is. We do so many fun things together. The last time we hung out we went to this trampoline park. This weekend we’re going to the food festival.”

“That does sound like a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll bring Will and the kids there.”

You were going to respond to JJ until you noticed Reid sitting at his desk which was diagonally across from yours. You hadn’t even noticed him come in at all let alone sit down to start his workday. He had already buried his nose deep into case files. JJ looked at Reid with as much confusion as you did. He was never quiet unless something was troubling him.

“No fact today for me, doctor?” You joked.

He looked up at you. He had no sparkle in his eye or a blush painted on his face. He looked disappointed. You were confused as to what made your chatty doctor become so mute.

“I just wanted to start these case files,” he said.

“You sure there isn’t anything wrong, Spence?” JJ asked.

“No, I’m fine. I just gotta finish these before Hotch comes in,” he said.

He then buried his face back into the file without uttering another word. You and JJ looked at each other. You were concerned there was something wrong, but JJ’s look said to leave it alone for now. You sighed and took another long sip of your coffee. You stared at him out of the corner of your eye. You hoped whatever he was going through he’d tell you eventually.

————

You packed your things up to leave 20 minutes ago, but stuck around your desk until you saw Reid also getting ready to leave. You wanted to inquire about his miserable attitude towards you. You noticed throughout the day he was normal with everyone else except you. When you tried to spark conversation, he would give you quick, to the point answers before he made a B-line back to his desk. He gave you no choice but to crack him.

As soon as you saw him put his books and files into his satchel. He swung the strap around his shoulder and made his way to the door. He didn’t even look at you the whole time he got ready to leave. This was getting ridiculous to you. You picked up your purse and ran towards him before he caught the elevator.

“Spencer,” you called out.

He turned to look at you. “What’s up?”

You looked at him confused. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you haven’t talked to me or even looked at me longer than a second today.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“You weren’t too busy to tell Morgan how many microscopic mites were living on his face today.”

“I thought it was valuable information he needed to know.”

“And you didn’t think it would be valuable to tell me?”

“In the moment, no.”

He went to go press the button for the elevator but you stopped his hand. You grabbed his hand tightly to make sure he didn’t escape your grip. He looked at you as if he was uncomfortable with you touching him. You knew awhile ago he had thing about not liking to shake hands, but you had stepped over that barrier with him a long time ago.

“I don’t think you should be doing this,” he quietly said.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why not?”

“I feel as if I’ve been intruding,” he said.

“Intruding on what?”

“Your family life.”

You let go of his hand as you stood there in shock. You didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. If he wanted to ask you out all he had to do was ask and you’d sort out your schedule. Adrian and Rhea would understand if you took a few hours to go on your first date in over two years.

“You think you’re intruding on my family life? How so?” You asked.

“If you really want to know I wanted to take you to the food festival this weekend because I know how much you love unique foods, but then I heard you and JJ talking about your partner and daughter coming this-“

“Hold up, wait,” you said before bursting into an uncontrollable laugh.

He looked at you funny. You watched as he stared in confusion as you laughed at his interpretation of your conversation with JJ. To be fair you had never mentioned Adrian and Rhea to him before, but you didn’t know he’d be eavesdropping in your conversation with JJ.

“You think Adrian’s my partner and Rhea’s my kid? Well, I’m proud to say that for once in Dr. Spencer Reid’s life he is completely, utterly wrong.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Adrian’s my cousin and Rhea’s his daughter. They’re coming to visit me from New York for the weekend. Adrian’s basically like a big brother to me.”

His face went from confused to embarrassed in a fraction of a second. His face turned to that noticeable red and an awkward smile spread across his face. You continued to laugh at his demeanour as you pressed the elevator button, so the two of you could actually get going.

“Oh. I’m so sorry for being weird to you, Y/N. I just felt terrible for thinking about asking you on a date while you were in a committed relationship,” he said.

“I get it, I do. I think you can make it up to me though,” you said.

The elevator dinged and the two of you stepped inside. He looked at you in amusement. You looked back at him with a big smile on your face and big, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Would you like to go on a date?” He asked.

You nodded your head. “I’d love to. We can even go to the food festival, so you can meet Adrian and Rhea in person.”

“That would be nice. I heard you telling JJ how lovely they are.”

“I bet they seem even lovelier now that you know they’re not my partner and child.”

“You can say that.”

—–

MASTERLIST

[jjksblackgf]

nibbling it

pairing — jung hoseok x female reader genre — smut word count — 1.6k summary — “There’s no better way of spending his free Friday night than with you, on his knees, you tugging his hair as a plead to go faster” warning — explicit sexual content, porn watching and describing (ish), female masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, clit biting/nibbling, edging.

a/n  — this one was very fun to write, i was listening to hit different the entire time, because hobi does hit different kjsksjksjs enjoy my lovelies <3

This was your favorite pass time with Hoseok. Watching movies and rating them from 1 to 5. Usually watching 3 or so movies per night, with popcorn, snacks and all that.

But normal couples would watch normal movies. You two watch porn movies. Yes, you’ve read that correctly. 

Getting up to date with what’s recent, what’s cringy, ridiculous storylines, and new things to try in bed yourselves. Sometimes the night ends with passionate sex, sometimes is just the two of you laughing and going to sleep.

So this is where you’re at now. In your living room, sitting side by side, popcorn in between, ready to watch some spicy shit.

“What’s the title of this one?” You asked, pressing play on the TV

“I don’t remember” He laughed, eating some of the popcorn “Probably something with double meaning”

The movie starts with a cliché porn song and the star of the movie is already half-naked on the screen.

“Damn, I picked one without a story this time” He said with a pinch of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay, we can still rate the obvious fake stuff” you pointed out “But I have to admit that I wish I could put my legs behind my back like that”

“Nothing a few sessions of yoga can’t fix” he looked at you with a smile and you grinned as you rolled your eyes.

Nothing new to watch here so far, just a gorgeous woman masturbating in a position that most women don’t masturbate at.

“That is a very pretty buttplug, tho” you said and that caught Hoseok’s attention

“I’ll buy one just as pretty for you” he hugged you sideways to squeeze you a little bit, kissing your temple with a teasing tone

“Aw babe, that’s so sweet” you joined in the fun, smiling and pecking his lips.

Both of your gazes returned to the TV, in your half cuddling position, eating popcorn. In this lovely bickering, you missed a few seconds in the movie, being enough to leave you both confused.

“What’s the point of her being blindfolded?” Hoseok had a curious tone in his voice

“Does she know there’s a man behind her?” You talked back to the TV

“This is porn, majority of the time nothing makes sense” he said to you

“Oh, okay” You both said in unison as the actors started kissing and masturbating each other.

The movie progressed a few more scenes with you both in silence. Blowjobs were never your favorite to watch, but you could always learn something.

“Damn, he’s hung” you pointed out eating more of the popcorn, Hoseok turning his head to face you, a mix of emotions on his face. You laughed it off and continued to watch the movie, commenting on a few positions here and there.

“It’s already over?” Hoseok said “He didn’t even return the oral?”

“I feel sorry for her, I’ll rate a 2 out of 5, just for the buttplug”

“This one is a zero for me” he added

“Look at you worrying about her pleasure” you said with a playful tone

With that, he scoffed and smirked at your direction “You know how I do”

You laughed with him and gave in to your urge to touch his thigh “I do know how you do” You looked into his eyes, and after a moment his gaze went to your lips, your breath mixing with his and you hear his loud gulping. You bit your lips and that was enough for him to lean in and kiss you.

He didn’t wait long to use his tongue, moving his hand to your neck as you traveled yours from his thigh to his chest. You grabbed his shirt from the collar to bring him closer and deepen the kiss.

His passionate lips never left yours as he moved his head from one side to the other, looking for more intimacy and intensity. 

The flutter on your heart was noticeable all over your body. There were butterflies on your stomach, your hands slightly sweaty still tugging to his shirt, your lips that didn’t seem to get enough of his. As Hoseok melted his tongue with yours, the kiss was getting wetter, and so were your panties. 

You let out a loud moan as he bit your lower lip. You interrupt the kiss to look into his eyes “Show me how you do” You whispered

Hoseok had lust in his eyes, now with the best of duties that he loves to fulfill. He took advantage of his hand still in your neck to pull you close to meet his lips again. His thumb was grazing your jawline very sweetly, but his kiss was intense just like before, tongue traveling through your lips once again, but pulling it out so he could bite you again.

His hand went from your neck and traveled slowly down your back, the tip of his fingers leaving marks of fire through your skin. He chose to cup your ass with his hand, the other had a firm place on your lower back. Your arms went to hug his neck, knowing your lips would be separated not long after, but still wanting this moment to last.

He touched your thigh and went close to your core, your walls clenching by the knowledge of what was to come. He wasted no time in opening your legs to feel the heat through your shorts, moving his palm up and down. You hissed in his lips, his interpretation of it was to place more pressure to increase the friction, then earning a loud groan.

He unzipped your shorts to have more access to you, and you both tried your best to remove the shorts without having to break the kiss. His hands were back to his palm action for a little bit, he then switching to using only the tip of his fingers with the same movements.

You got sad when his sweet lips left yours, but it was for a good cause, as he got to his knees to remove your panties and then opened your legs while holding the back of your knees. He decided not to go straight for it, taking his moment to look into your eyes and kiss your inner thigh.

He then reached his destination, first kissing your outer lips very slowly, making sure every inch of you were given the attention it deserved. You couldn’t wait for this moment any longer, reclining on the sofa, but shifting your weight to your elbows to still have a perfect vision of what was happening.

He was going to use his nose this time, massaging your clit from side to side, then up and down, then drawing an eight to drawing his own name, in Korean and English. He then decided to pair his movements with his tongue licking the outside of your entrance, the sensation surprising you enough that he felt your walls slightly clenching at the tip of his tongue.

Before you could get used to it, he went to kiss your clit, very sloppy, very wet kisses. Each time increasing and decreasing its pressure. But you wouldn’t get used to that either, because he went to lick your sensitive bud, repeating the same movements his nose just did. This time he would insert two fingers, making them spin clockwise, just to give you a new sensation. And give your walls something to clench on.

Today Hoseok was going to do something he didn’t do very often, he would pass his teeth very delicately on your clit, with biting movements but not exactly biting it, just with enough presence to give you new sensations. He then curled his fingers looking for your spot and stayed nibbling on your clit. 

At the sight of your face and the sound of your orgasms, he knew you were close, taking your involuntary and irregular clenching as a clue to stop. “Why did you stop?” You whined and looked at him, only to receive a smirk in return. 

After you caught a little breath, he would return to his nibbling action, loving your reaction to each pass of his teeth. But he would stop again. “No! Keep it going” You practically shouted

“Patience, my love” he whispered so close to your core that his breath caused shivers down your spine

But you didn’t have patience today. He returned to the movements and you grabbed his head with two clumps of hair to make him stay in place. 

He smiled at your action, his pants getting tighter. For him, there’s no better way of spending his free Friday night than with you, on his knees, you tugging his hair as a plead to go faster. He loved it when you took action like that, he loved to know that he was good at what he was doing, that you were feeling good because of him.

The mix of the nibbling and curled finger action got you very close. Your toes were now curling and the knot on your stomach was waiting to be released. But you wanted something a little more rough on you tonight. And instead of just letting Hoseok finish what he started, you moved his head around from side to side.

Hoseok was surprised but delighted, and just stuck his tongue out, letting you decide the pace and pressure. he continued to focus on his fingers and the texture of his tongue was enough friction for your orgasm to come a few seconds after.

If you two made a movie, he would rate it 10 out of 5.

[beskarberry]

Star-crossed

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 11

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

"His heartbeat picked up to a wicked cantor, echoing in his helmet like a storm of leathery wings. Whispering demons crawled up his brainstem and dragged beloved memories down from his skull and into the light of judgement. Memories of you."

<-Previous Next->

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 9.k oh no

Content warnings: Major angst, nightmares, premonitions, auditory hallucinations, unsavory parental figures, paranoia, domestic disputes, child endangerment, violence. No smut in this one, the only thing getting fucked in this chapter are our feelings.

A/N: This one hurt to write, there were definitely some tears shed while putting this together this so fair warning do not expect this one to end well. :(

High above the metal decking of the engine room, you were elbow deep in an exhaust port, clearing away the slag to replace one of the durasteel plates that had started to warp from the excess heat. You were singing, as you always did when you worked; a vulgar, brassy shanty that was almost louder than the reciprocating scraper in your hands. You spat and wiped a wayward chunk of grease from your mouth, the taste of it oily and burnt. No matter how many times you’d been taught the lesson of ‘keep your mouth closed’ you couldn’t help it. Whenever you worked, you sang.

Raucous as a mudhorn in heat and louder than a full grown krayt, your songs were a favorite of your unit, and the chief of engineering would often come stand a while and listen; though the moment he was caught eavesdropping he would scold you for not working harder. Tough love is what he called it. He was yelling at you now from far below at the base of the hyperdrive engine, and you pushed your goggles up your grime-smeared face to see him.

Bilgerat! Get’cher ass down ‘ere, posthaste!

Yessir!

Now you were standing in front of the chief, though there was another man standing there too. Tall, thin and pale with eyes like a dead fish and a tight, steelset jaw. You didn’t recognize him, but he looked important, his lapel shining with the badge of a high-ranking officer.

You there, girl, sing.

Sir?

Don’t argue with me, child, I heard you from three decks over. Sing.

Being watched made you nervous, but you did as you were ordered. You sang something, maybe everything, either way the stranger watched you, no, judged you, his eyes never leaving your face. The dead-eyed man furrowed his brow and stroked his chin thoughtfully, but you had already stopped watching him, caught in your song, powerless against the siren song that was your own voice.

It always felt so good to let loose, your voice could set your soul free, and yet it also felt like it was pulling something in. Something greater than yourself, flowing through you, connecting you to every living thing that ever was or ever will be. Your boots were firmly stuck aboard the starship called the Wyvern’s Tongue, but your songs carried your heart to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, to worlds beyond your durasteel home.

~

The humming is what woke Din up, though he hadn’t slept much through the night anyway, too suspicious of the artifact he had found aboard his ship. Fully armored, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall of the borrowed quarters he had stood guard over his tiny clan, dozing in and out of restless sleep.

He lifted his helmeted head to zero in on the noise you were making. It was one he was familiar with, you often hummed in your sleep, it was something he loved about you. The warm, wavering sound coming from the floor where you had made a nest of quilts for yourself was comforting, but tonight something about it seemed off.

He watched you sleep, noticing the way that your fingers twitched and your legs kicked behind you slightly. It wasn’t like you to be so energetic, so distressed. Clutched to your chest the foundling purred softly, but you didn’t seem to hear him. Your hums turned to whimpers, making the Mandalorian’s blood run cold.

She’s having a nightmare.

She’s perfect. I’ll take her.

But sir, she’s m’best bilgie. How’ll I-

Is that insubordination I hear, Chief Wellers?

N-no Cap’n Forescythe. She’s all yours.

Good. Come along, little sparrow, your talents are being wasted here.

You remember being so scared, looking to your chief for reassurance, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Though you’d lived aboard the Wyvern’s Tongue since she had left Corellia’s port you’d never actually met the captain. The starcruiser was well over a thousand meters long and home to hundreds of crewmates, putting bilgerats far below the captain’s sphere of influence. What did he want from you?

Each step you took in your dream you got taller, your strides lengthening as you grew from a gangly teenager to a young woman. You were at the bridge now, being sat in a stiff but comfortable chair. You were taught to relay orders, delegate operations, interpret incoming transmissions and their origins. It was a station high above your birthright, but you were never one to turn down a challenge, and you bullied your way to excellence; much to your captain’s pride.

Captain Forescythe was usually described as a cold, unforgiving man, but he treated you remarkably well for a boat-brat dug up from the scuppers, much to the disdain of his fellow officers. He told you that you were a natural talent, gifted by the Maker with a voice so strong, so beautiful, almost like he revered you for it. Much like the ship's namesake, the Wyvern’s captain lorded over you like treasure, jealousy guarding you like a priceless jewel.

The captain’s precious little pet.

Sing, my little Sparrow.

~

Unable to spectate any longer, Din crawled over to you, brushing an armored hand over your sweat-streaked face. “Mesh’la? Are you alright? Wake up cyare, you’re having a nightmare.”

Wake up.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Once where a beautiful, peaceful world had once been there was now only dust. The Death Star your ship was escorting had succeeded in her mission, and you had been graciously allowed to watch as the mechanical moon obliterated a billion lives as one would exterminate a nest of roaches. Around you your crew cheered, hooray for the Empire! Death to the Resistance! But you couldn’t hear them.

You heard screaming.

Clawing at your ears and squeezing your eyes closed did nothing to make it stop. As if millions of voices were funneling directly into your skull.

You ran. Ran through the labyrinthian hallways, ran as fast as you could to your quarters. Even your blankets would not protect you, the wailing only growing louder.

Murderers! Monsters! You killed us! Why? Why why why!

You ran from your tiny room, backpack slung over your shoulder, filled with what few things you owned. Ran all the way to the hangar. You’d worked on interceptors a thousand times before when your hands were still small, when you could weasel your way into the narrowest of spaces and prove yourself worthy of not getting jettisoned. Knife in hand you unlocked the security protocols easier than picking your teeth, and the hangar fell away beneath you.

Turning back one last time to glance at the artificial home you had known for so long you saw a figure standing there. Was it the captain? Had he come to stop you? Stop his precious Sparrow from flying away?

No. They were blue, flickering in and out of corporeality. Their face took up your entire mindscape now, their features ever changing, like you were looking at more than one face at a time. The eldritch being’s eyes bored through yours, shifting rapidly from those of a man to those of a child to those of an elder, a hundred lives all demanding to be seen at once. Their mouth did not move when it spoke.

“i̴͊̎t̴'s̸̉͋ ̵͋c̸͑ȏ̸̕m̸͐͛i̸̽͘n̷̾͂ǵ̵”

You sucked air like your lungs had never known oxygen, nearly launching the foundling into orbit as you bolted upright. Beskar burdened arms coiled around you the next second, and you stung your knuckles on his armor trying to fight him off in your panic.

“Ger’off’a me! It wasn’t my fault! I’m sorry! Please!”

“Cyare! Stop! You’re having a nightmare, it’s ok I’ve got you!” Battleborne muscles held you tight against a cold plate of steel while you thrashed until you were coherent. Husband. You let your body relax against your oathsworn and wept, deep, heaving sobs that tore your throat apart and crackled your ribs. Soft shushing noises came through Din’s modulator next to your ear, but the cold metal of his armor brought you little comfort.

“I-I’m s-s-sor-ry.” You stuttered into the fabric of his cowl, the roughhewn cloth soaked with tears. Strong fingers carded through your dampish hair, still not dried all the way from your shower only a few hours ago. Din pressed his palm against the back of your head, burying you in the crook of his shoulder where he could protect you from whatever had scared you. The yellowed tips of his gloves bumped against your unburdened ear cuffs with each pass of his hand, but the leather scraping the metal couldn’t drown out the whispers that still oozed from your thoughts.

Why why why why why why...

“It’s alright, cyar’ika, I’m here. Grogu’s here.” Without tearing your eyes away from the safe haven of his cloak you groped blindly for the baby, finding the disheveled youngling and pulling him in tight. “Can you tell me what happened?” Din asked, his modulated voice soft with worry. You shook your head against your partner. “Alright, that’s ok.”

-ỉ̶t'̸͑̋́̂s̸ ̵̝͕̏̀͠͝c̷̬͙̃̽͌̑̊o̷̅͑̓̈́m̴̧͓͈̭̃͂́̽͌͑ǐ̶̓̕n̷̓̋̚g̵͕͙͎͊̀͊̽!̶̑̀-

You gasped and pulled away from your husband’s comfort, eyes wider than moons, pupils shrunken to pinpoints. Gloved hands found your face, cupping your cheeks and trying to get you to look into his hidden honeywells that were searching your eyes. Unblinking, you looked right through him.

“Can you hear that?” You whispered, your voice far, far away.

“Hear what?”

-I̴̭̊̚͘͘T̷́̽̕S̴̔̅̈́ ̸̋C̸̀͋Ỏ̸̉̄͝M̸̐͂I̶N̷̽͗̈̌G̵͓̎̈̊̀͛͘͠!̶!̷̤̏-

“That!” you shrieked, making both your boys jump. You clawed at your ears, though you knew that wouldn’t help, the voices were coming from inside. “I-I have.. I have to go! I have to go now!” You tried to spring up off the floor, but your arm was caught in the iron grip you knew and trusted, keeping you at your knees. “I have to warn Alewyn!”

“Cyar’ika what are you talking about? Warn her about what?”

The phantom voice wailed again, and you doubled over from the force of it, sending a fresh wave of tears down your face. Din was getting scared now, his eyes wide with worry behind the visor, his throat bobbing around dry swallows. You’d never woken up like this before, so distraught and inconsolable, and it was making him feel helpless. He couldn’t put binders on your emotions, grapple with your fears, slay your inner demons.

“Let go!” You roared and flew from his grasp, tripping over your faceplate and the pile of quilts as you blasted out the door, sprinting down the Sunskate’s curving corridors towards the bridge with your foundling stuffed under your arm. Haunting voices chased you through the halls, making you deaf to the armored thunder that was following dutifully behind.

You charged through the bulkhead to the bridge, nearly busting the durasteel door off its hinges when you flew through it, skittering to a halt in front of the viewport. With wild eyes you searched the void, ignoring the concerned questions that were being asked of you. Where is it where is it where is it?! From corner to corner you scanned, locking your red-rimmed eyes on every flicker, every spark.

Nothing.

Nothing for miles.

Slowly you became aware of those around you, the soft leather gloves of your mate pulling on your face and the warm but worried voice of the Sunskate’s captain.

“Cyare?”

“Tra’laar?”

“Patu?”

Your legs gave out under you and you let yourself be caught in the steelbound arms of your husband, the two of you sinking to the floor with the foundling still locked to your chest. Terror replaced itself with scalding embarrassment, making you bury your unblinking eyes in the foundling’s forgiving tummy. Your eyelids wouldn’t close no matter how hard you willed them to, because they knew that somewhere, out there,

Was a dragon.

“What’s wrong with her? Did you do something to upset her?!” Alewyn hissed, becoming defensive of her ill-begotten rescue.

“No! She had a nightmare, I think. Cyar’ika whatever it is, it’s not real. There’s nothing out there, come back to me, please.” Mando’s loving pleas and careful touches went unrecognized, no matter how diligent they were.

What finally drew you back to reality was the gentle pat pat pat of fat baby paws on your face. You turned your wilted gaze to the foundling, the embarrassment of being seen so vulnerable only growing stronger and more painful. “I-I’m s-sorry, Goober, you s-sh-sh-shouldn’t have to see me like-”

Pap.

Baby beans smacked you softly on your forehead and closed his eyes, making you furrow your brow. “What are you- oh.” Your eyes slid closed, and a warm peacefulness breezed through you, exorcising the whispering voices between your ears. You took a deep, somewhat stuttered breath and let go, feeling whatever weird baby magic the foundling possessed flow through you. The night terror faded to the back of your mind, dissipating like mist until it evaporated entirely from your thoughts.

“Thank you…” You whispered, nuzzling the baby’s chubby belly. Heart rate steady and breath even, you leaned back against the man who was still holding you up. Din rested the edge of his helmet on the top of your head and hummed, a low, brassy tone, sounding relieved. Where his hands were wrapped around your sides you felt the slow roll of his palms, warm and protective. “I’m sorry, Mando, Alewyn, I don’t know what came over me...”

“S’all right, missy, t’ain’t the first time I’ve seen someone go wailin’ through the halls. We all have our burdens to bear.” Alewyn combed a dainty hand through your hair, brushing it out of your face. “Good thing them boys’ve gotcha though.” She glanced between the visor of the Mandalorian that was coiled so defensively around you and the little green baby you held so dearly. “I can tell they love ya.”

You nodded sheepishly and let Din help you to your feet, his hands never leaving you lest you waver. Angrily you wiped at the corners of your eyes, trying to cover your shame as the three of you walked back to your room. When the bedroom door closed behind you, you went straight for the porthole window, cautiously searching the stars again.

“What are you looking for?” Din asked hesitantly, “What… what were you dreaming about?”

“Um. I had a dream we were… under attack.” You lied, your eyes still locked to the void. If you could help it, the secrets of your past would someday die with you, though by the sounds of the whispers you had heard not even death could keep its mouth closed.

“Must have been one hell of a nightmare, I’ve never seen you like this. Is there anything I can do for you?” Din the ever-thoughtful asked, draping a quilt over your shoulders. The fabric was still warm from where you had been sleeping on it, the weight of it reassuring on your back. You shook your head. He glanced at the back of one vambrace, “We’re still another hour from the station, why don’t we get our things packed and back on the Crest? Would that be ok?”

It was better than going back to sleep, you didn’t trust your own thoughts not to terrorize you again, and you nodded enthusiastically. Din didn’t allow you to lift a finger while he zoomed around the little room, collecting your armor and laundry and then you, scooping you and the foundling up in his arms.

“Put me down, tinman, I’m not helpless!” you chided with a weak little laugh.

“There’s my girl. Nope, I’m carrying you. Deal with it.”

You sighed in a heavy, mocking tone, covering your face with your mask like a shy child while he proudly tromped back to the hangar to where your immobile home lay. Once you were all lifted up the half-hanging ramp you dropped graclessly onto a crate with a huff. You were beat, but it felt nice to be back in your ship, the familiarity adding to whatever calming effect the foundling had used. The little green terror was drowsy in your arms, spent from using his wild baby powers to vanquish your demons. You kissed his wrinkly little head and swaddled him in the quilt Din had accidentally stolen for you.

Tinman was digging through the larder, looking for something for breakfast and found a pack of biscuits to give you. Though the suspicious item he still carried in his pocket had kept him sleepless, the need to care for his loved ones overrode every other instinct, making him forget it for the time being. You weren’t hungry, if anything you were nauseous from your night terror, but Din was insistent; and you nibbled on a bright blue macaroon, splitting bites with the sleepy baby.

Eventually a soft beeping chimed from the Mandalorian’s vambrace, stationfall in fifteen minutes. Outside the ship you heard a holler, and you strode to the ramp to find Alewyn and Lilah, ready to bid thee farewell.

”Alright, so!” Alewyn exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Here’s the dealy-o. The Sunskate can’t actually… dock with the station. M’good ole dad’s still got hunters on the loose, never know when they’ll turn up, eh?” She laughed. “Your ship’s gonna have’ta dock on’er own, but Lilah’s patchwork should hold ya together long ‘nough for the service droids’ta pick ya up.”

You ignored the loud, audible groan from behind you. “I think we can manage that.” You started to hop down off the ramp, but the spry Togruta was already climbing up into the Crest, barreling you over. Alewyn the Affectionate squeezed your ribs so hard you felt the air leave your lungs, making you grunt ugly. One of her nimble hands disappeared from you into her many secret pockets, then snuck into one of yours, leaving a sizable weight of credits behind. “Wynnie!” you hissed against her montral, “Not again!”

“S’least I can do, since we nearly ripped that old bucket’a shit in half and you spared another spacer from the slab.” She held you out at arms length, bobbling her montrals at you with an arrogant grin. “Take care’a yerself, missy. And you too, Mando! Be good to this woman’n’er son or so help me!” The princess raised a fist at him that turned into an outstretched hand. He shook it hesitantly, but the lavender lady reeled him in, and you giggled at his hover-hands while she squeezed the life out of him.

Lilah helped her wife down from the ramp, and the two of them waved before hefting the ramp closed, sealing you inside with your crew. You dashed up the ladder to the cockpit, looking for a horn to honk but there wasn’t one, giving you another item to add to your mental grocery list. Din followed you up with Grogu in tow, taking his seat in the captain’s chair.

The Sunskate’s hangar jaws slid open slowly, pulling a blue force field over the stretch of stars. Far ahead you could just barely make out the shiny little dot where the station was, glittering just a little brighter than the stars themselves. With the cockpit door tightly sealed, Din carefully started up the old gunship, and on instinct you covered Grogu’s ears to protect him from the inevitable backfire.

The Razor Crest sputtered to life and slowly floated out of the hangar door, relying more on inertia than propulsion to get her towards the station. Out the window you saw the enormous rayship that had carried you here bank away from you, the starlight glittering briefly on her copper-colored belly before her propulsion engines flared back to life, and soon enough she was nothing more than a comet streaking through the void.

Din fussed with the radio transponder, opening up a hailing frequency that would alert the attention of the station droids, and it wasn’t long before a large transport unit was making its way to you. The automatic taxi magnetized itself to the roof of the Crest, easing the strain off of your damaged engines.

A robotic voice beeped through the comms: “THANK YOU FOR CHOS-ING EL-GON AU-TO-MA-TED SER-VI-CES. SMILE-Y FACE. CO-MEN-CING TRANS-PORT TO HAN-GAR SEV-EN-TEEN FOR EV-AL-U-A-TION AND RE-PAIR. HAVE A NICE DAY. SMILE-Y FACE”

Din groaned, his fists creaking on the steering wheel. “Why’s it gotta be droids…”

You shrugged in your chair. “Elgon’s old as dirt, prob’ly older than the Crest. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t anything on it that wasn’t animatronic.”

“Great.”

Ahead of you, the station dominated your viewport, humming with a myriad of activity. A neutral starport, Elgon boasted service to any and all as long as they had coin in their pockets, regardless of their commendations or crimes. You’d been to the old outpost many a time, both on your own and while you still wore a uniform, and excitedly you remembered a particular sweets shop that used to operate in the center.

Your service droid was nearly at the station now, approaching a large closed hangar with the number seventeen painted on it in orange Basic. You playfully kicked at the side of the pilots’ seat where Din’s butt was unguarded by the arm rests. “You excited to get fixed up, bucket boy?”

He nodded, he was ready to get back on the trail towards the last bounty. The thought of hunting again reminded him of the Imp device in his pocket that still mystified him, reigniting buried suspicions. I should ask her about it, maybe she knows what it is. He hadn’t wanted to disturb you while you were showering, or when you were getting ready to sleep, so being the polite riddur he decided he would bring it up with you in the morning.

Din reached into his pocket, closing his fingers around the mechanical spider, ready to pull it into the light when the hangar doors opened.

Revealing a blizzard of white duraplast.

“Oh fuck.” Your collective hearts went through the decking at the sight before you. There, swarming the station proper were dozens of Imperial stormtroopers, their eggheads covering the hangar like dirty snow. “Get down!” you hissed at Din who was already two steps ahead of you, sliding out of the pilots seat and under the dashboard. You tore the faceplate off of your crown and stuffed it into his hands along with Grogu and caged your two boys in with your knees, determined to keep anything mando-factured out of sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Din spat, slamming his fist on the floor. “This station is supposed to be neutral territory! We need to turn around, we can not stay here!”

Under you the Crest swayed gently in the droid’s grasp before being lowered onto a maintenance skiff, the hoversled bouncing slightly from the weight of your ship. Desperately you threw levers and pushed switches, trying to get the Crest to restart, but her engines were long gone, the turbines spinning almost mockingly slow. You weren’t going anywhere.

The comms light lit up on the dashboard with a soft chime, and on reflex you went to answer it when Din grabbed your leg. “Don’t even think about it.”

You made ‘what-choice-do-we-have’ hands at him, “Dude we are fucked unless I answer them, I-I speak their language, I can get us through.”

“Yeah? So do I.” He hissed from the floor, smacking the side of his thigh where his firearm hung.

“-Ksst!- hush! I’m handling this.” You straightened your shoulders and set your jaw straight before flipping on the receiver.

The holoprojector lit up in front of you with a tiny stormtrooper. “Identify yourself.”

“TK number SPW dash seven-zero-four-two, engaged in dogfight planetside and in need of repairs.”

“Why isn’t your ship running a beacon, soldier?”

“It's pre-empire surplus, it doesn’t have one.”

“What are you doing flying around in such a relic?” The stationmaster said with a bite of suspicion.

“...Budget cuts.”

They chuckled. ”No kidding. Alright then, what’s your designation?”

Shit, uh... “Prisoner transport unit.”

“Roger. Stand-by for transportation to engineering bay and prepare for inspection.”

The trooper winked out of existence, and you started to sigh with relief when the hand on your boot yanked you down to the ground.

“Prisoner transport unit?!” He rasped once you were at visor level with him on the floor. “Could you have come up with something else?!”

Unwillingly, your lips curled back and bared your teeth at his hateful tone. “There’s a shitload of guns and a goddamn carbonite freezer down in the hold, we’re not exactly delivering cookies. We need to get you two hidden before we get to the mechanics, come on!”

Din watched you drop through the ladder hatch with his heart in his throat, the fluttering organ violently trying to break out of his ribs. The Maker must think this is hilarious. After everything I’ve done to keep this kid away from the Imps we’re just going to go knocking on their fucking door. Everything was stacked against him. He was tired from lack of sleep, he was scared for the safety of his clan, and to top it all off he was becoming more distrustful of the microchip by the second; the mounting tension he emanated filling the cockpit like carbonite fog.

Maybe it’s a tracking device?

That… might make sense. Elgon station was out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, why else would a shitload of Imps be here if not to capture him and his crew? To take his son? Through the night he had grown suspicious of the item he had found, and a nagging thought had seeded itself in his frontal lobe, one that he refused to give audience.

What if it came from her?

No, that’s stupid. That’s your riddur, she’s obviously not an Imp. He reasoned, slowly soldier-crawling his way to the hatch with his son and your armor in tow. It must have been in the coral already, or come from one of the pirates, maybe they planted it here. But if that’s the case then we’ve been handed right over into a trap. He lept down the ladder with Grogu squashed under his arm, watching you fly around the cabin looking for an acceptable hiding spot for your foundling and a full grown Mandalorian.

Time started to move in slow motion as it usually did for him when he was sizing up quarry. What did her puck say, before I decided not to turn her in? He ran through his mental rolodex, digging for your file. Ex hunter. Guild dissenter. Bribed out of high-profile bounty. Now that he had met the high-profiler for himself he really couldn’t blame you, though it was suspicious that you had returned from the bridge one bounty short after speaking with Alewyn in private.

Alewyn. Princess-turned-pirate, a renegade royal that had made a name for herself literally ripping ships down from the sky. Hunter ships in particular. Awful convenient for her to be right in our line of travel to a station full of Imps out in the middle of fuckall nowhere. He froze, his visor locked to your frantic form. As if…

As if she was waiting for us.

The corners of his lips bared his teeth to no-one behind his visor as the distrust he had sown in his own heart dug its claws in deep. This has been a trap from the beginning! She’s been playing the long con since Tatooine. In his other hand he held your betrothal gift, the beskar faceplate that he had presented to you when you swore your vows. It reflected his own visor back to him, the hazy lighting of the cabin shimmering on the mudhorn embossed on the brow. No… that’s not it… that’s not true, she loves you…

Right…?

Or… so she says. His heartbeat picked up to a wicked cantor, echoing in his helmet like a storm of leathery wings. Whispering demons crawled up his brainstem and dragged beloved memories down from his skull and into the light of judgement. Memories of you.

He’d caught you so easily on that dirtball of a planet, too easily for a hunter of your stature. You’d practically tossed yourself into the arms of a complete stranger, assumed the role of the child’s caregiver without question. Agreed to marry him after barely a month.

Grogu made a sniffling noise under Din’s arm, gaining both of his buir’s attentions. His nebulous eyes were beginning to moisten, threatening to spill over with tears at any moment. Instantly you ran to your baby’s defense. “Hey buddy boy, what’s wrong?” You carefully took the baby from Din, hugging him to your chest and making the tiniest sob bubble out of his nose. “No no no it’s ok, please don’t cry sweetheart!”

“He’s scared.” Din growled in a manner not at all comforting. You glared at the indomitable mountain of metal, offended that he would use such a tone in front of his own son. “He knows when there’s a threat nearby.” Under you the Crest wobbled slightly, signaling the start of her trek to the engineering bay. Tick tock.

“Fuck! Can you get in a storage crate?” you asked frantically, bouncing Grogu on your hip to get him to quiet down. The baby could sense the mounting anxiety radiating off of his buir, and was getting himself spun up into a fresh panic. His cries devolved into sobs, making the hull echo with despair. “Shh.. it’s ok! Baby boy please, we can’t do this right now!”

“Too obvious.”

“Ok, the sleeping cubby? The lockers? C’mon Mando work with me!”

“They’ll tear this ship apart the second it hits the bay. There’s no hiding. That’s it, we’re done for.” Din tossed up his hands and made some kind of noise in the back of his throat, some kind of strained laugh, the husk of it making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You knew that sound, it was the sound of acceptance, of defeat.

Like fuck you were giving up. You made to retaliate when something past his shoulder caught your eyes. Expecting you to fight with him he stopped his pacing and glared at you, then followed your eyes to the carbonite freezer. He whipped back around, gawking at you like you’d grown a second head. “Oh fuck no.”

“We are out of options!” you nearly screamed, “I can’t just cuff you, there’s no guarantee that they won't take you and Beans hostage, freezing you would be safer. I-it would only be for an hour or two, tops, just to pass inspection! That thing can unfreeze, right?”

“That is not the point!” Din bellowed, “You are suggesting not only to freeze me but to freeze him as well?” Din jabbed a finger at the baby, a rush of emotions threatening to boil his bucket right off his head. He widened his shoulders, broadening himself so large that he seemed to encompass the entire ship, glossy black eye turning dark and hateful on you. He couldn’t keep his suspicions to himself any longer. “You… has this been your plan all along?”

You balked, “Plan? Plan for what? The hell are you-”

He threw your beskar on the floor and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you against the wall opposite the freezer and making Grogu scream out in terror. Mando’s visor took up your entire field of view, reflecting with your own wild eyes. “Your plan to capture us!” He barked, the malice overflowing like an erupting volcano. “You told that Imp that this was a prisoner transport unit. We don’t have any prisoners on this ship unless you’ve had them since the beginning.”

“Are you out of your fucking bucket?!” You spat back at him, “You think I want to put you in carbonite?! Put my son in carbonite?! There’s nowhere else on this ship to hide you!”

“How convenient.” The joints in your shoulders popped from the force he was applying to them, his weight nearly fusing you with the wall.

“You’re hurting me!” Over you the lights began to flicker, though neither of you saw it with your eyes locked on each other; yours filled with pain and anger, his visor pinning you down as if you were quarry.

At the sound of your pain the tension on your shoulder bones eased slightly, but not enough to let you free of the wall. Scalding shame burnt its way across his face, bitter and stinging. He was hurting you, the one thing he swore never to do to you again, the very first oath he had promised.

You chewed the side of your cheek, trying to steady your words. “Din. I love you. I love Grogu! I lied to that Imp to protect you. I don’t want those rotten eggs to have you, how could you even think that of me?”

She lies. One thing that Din knew about you was that you were unquestionably good at was putting on a ruse, able to sweet-talk quarry or lure droids to their deaths. But the way you took to the comms was different, how you were able to use the Imps own terminology against them, even how you spoke to the pirates before you were ‘rescued’ was delivered with flawless diction. It was too perfect, too natural...

As if that was your real voice.

“I don’t know if I believe you,” He growled, digging armored claws into the flesh of your shoulders, making you suck air through your teeth. Defensively you coiled your arms around Grogu, burying his wrinkly little head against your chest where he would be safe from the man you thought you trusted. Fire cascaded out from under Din's helmet, trying to burn you at the stake. “You told me once that I don’t know you.” His helmet tilted like a serpent poising to strike, words dripping with venom. “But I should have known an Imp when I saw one.”

“I am not an Imp!! That’s not who I am any MORE!” Bulbs exploded around you at your words, glass and sparks raining down from above. The strength of your thundering roar broke the delicate machinery in Din’s helmet, causing his audio intake to screech with feedback. Immediately his hands left your shoulders and went to his ears, trying to protect himself from the horrible noise.

The let-up was all the invitation you needed, and you dropped yourself low; catapulting into Din’s chest plate like a linebacker and knocking him into the freezer. You kicked your faceplate between his boots, thrust Grogu into his arms and punched the activator on the wall, tears flowing hotly down your face. As the fog billowed outward Mando wrapped himself around the foundling, as though his impenetrable armor could protect the child from the nightmare of being frozen alive.

Horrified, you watched as the two creatures you loved most were consumed by the mist, leaving a dark block in its wake that bore their likeness. The metal was already ice cold to the touch when you ran your hand over the glaring curve of your husband's visor, and down to the terrified, tear-streaked face of your baby.

Choked sobs tore at the back of your throat, trying to drown you with guilt. I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry my loves, I… I did what I had to do. You weren’t given time to process your grief, nearly jumping out of your skin when plasticast fists rapped on the access door with authoritarian vigor. Composing yourself to the best of your abilities, you stuck your finger down the barrel of your blaster, scraping off the dark residue and smearing it under your eyes to hide your welted cheeks.

Glass crunched under your boots as you made your way through the dismembered cabin to the wall panel, punching the buttons with shaky hands. The ramp chuggered and stopped halfway down, but it was down far enough for you to make visor contact with the platoon of troopers who were demanding your attention. Their armor was clean, freshly moulded and recently polished. These weren’t just the Empire’s soggy leftovers, these were new recruits.

Disgracefully hopping down from the ramp among a scurry of pit droids you puffed up your chest and squared your shoulders as you had seen your partner do whenever he was intimidating quarry. You crossed your arms behind your back in parade rest, watching as a painted trooper strode up to you, his rifle pointed at the floor near your feet.

“Stand aside, we have orders to search this ship.”

“Whose orders?”

“Elgon Station is under the Imperial jurisdiction of Admiral Forescythe, no ships in or out without search.”

You felt all the blood in your body evaporate at the name. Forescythe. Shit balls of hell, that fucking bastard is still alive?!

“Is that really necessary?”

The rifle in his hand rose just slightly. “You got something to hide?”

“No, sir.” you said sweetly, hoping politeness would buy you brownie points.

“Stand aside then.” The trooper barked, gesturing to your ship with the barrel of his rifle. You jumped when the heavy access ramp hit the ground, turning to glare daggers at the droid that had unfastened the damaged hydraulics. The stormtrooper marched past you up the ramp, inspecting the interior of the cabin as he went. As predicted, he nudged the lids of the supply crates open, pointing his gun at any would-be threats. Another pair of eggheads followed inside, rudely stomping through the Crest’s belly like they owned the place.

The painted trooper made loud, gross sniffing noises. “Smells like carbonite in here, your freezer might be leaking, better get that checked out…” He trailed off when he clocked the machine and its contents, taking big strides towards it. “Lookit that, Is that an actual mando? I didn’t even think they were real, I’ve only ever heard stories.” He gestured to you with his gun, “How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked coldly.

“How’d you catch him? And his... weird dog?” The trooper tapped harshly on the solidified metal that covered your foundling's eyeball, making your blood pyroclast through your veins, but you remained composed.

“I’m more dangerous than I look.” You seethed, digging your nails into the skin of your arms behind your back. And you’re about to find out just how fucking dangerous if you don’t back off!

One of the unpainted soldiers piped up. “Do you think this is the one they’ve been looking for? The one the Admiral was talking about?”

“Could be, I’ll radio the Wyvern when it makes stationfall, should be dropping out of hyperspace in a few hours.” Cotton seemed to grow in your mouth at his words, making it impossible to swallow. No, it can't be.

-ī̶̱̩͋t's̴̈̅ ̵̛̂̈̋͋̏͘͝c̷ŏ̷̐̓͑ṁ̸͌̋̾̕in̵̨͎̩̠̼͂͜g̷͑̔.-

Shut up. The commander jabbed his rifle at you. “I heard someone say that mandos never take their helmets off, we should unfreeze it and see what it looks like.”

“No.” You barked, making the soldiers flinch. Haha. “He’s very dangerous, even under the effects of hibernation sickness he can still be quite lethal.”

“There’s three of us and only one of it.” A rifle was pointed your way, “Thaw it out.”

Like hell. “Alright, then I won’t have to be the one to explain to the Admiral why a Mandalorian is loose in the station, or dead. I’ve heard he’s a reasonable man.”

The three troopers looked at each other with questioning glances, suddenly unsure. That seemed enough to deter them, and you waited while the troopers barked orders at the repair droids, ordering them to get your ship fixed up. A battalion of robots swarmed the Razor Crest inside and out, almost making you thankful Mando wasn’t there to blast them full of holes. The greasy robots would make quick work of the damage, and hopefully have you out of the station before the Wyvern arrived.

The Wyvern. You wanted to curl in a ball and die. Of all the bullshit the galaxy had to offer it had decided that you deserved a double helping of unwanted nostalgia. Not only was the Wyvern’s Tongue still operational she would be bringing with her good old Admiral Forscythe, though last time you saw him he was just a captain.

Your captain.

And he was on his way.

To this station.

To your ship.

To you.

Oh fuck.

Immediately you turned to your partner for reassurance, only to meet his frozen stare. You wanted to release him, let him carry you safely away from this place, but you weren’t out of the woods yet; so you were both going to have to wait. You’d never been frozen, thank the Maker, but you’d heard stories. How being frozen is like being trapped alive, trying to breathe but not being able to move your lungs. Still being conscious but feeling your blood stop in your veins. A living death.

A waking nightmare.

Repair droids swarmed your ship’s interior like a hive of bees, but they were making quick work of the damage and would hopefully be gone soon. Shaky legs carried you back over to the carbonite freezer, and you leaned heavily on the block of frozen metal, stretching your arms around it in an attempted hug. I wish you were here, my love, but it will be over soon.

You pressed a kiss to both of your boy’s faces and slumped to the floor, leaning on the bandoliered boots behind you. Between the wide open ramp and the droids working on the stardrive you were too exposed to unfreeze your family, and the thought of having to wait even a minute longer made the edges of your eyes threaten to spill anew.

Stars above you wanted this to be over. The back of your throat tasted like bile, and the plasma residue smeared under your eyes was starting to burn. You needed to get away, to blast off into space with your boys and put your draconian past behind you before the literal beast reared her ugly head.

But… now he knows. You groaned into your knees, digging claws into your own hair. He knows! You fucking asshat now he knows! Your greatest, vilest secret had been spilled, and you were going to have to find a way to live with the consequences. He... he’ll understand. Bilgerats are practically foundlings, I just need to explain myself better. Yeah! That’s it! I didn’t have the chance to explain myself. He’ll forgive me… right?

Time seemed to crawl, languid and slow, forcing you to wallow in your own guilt. You cautiously eyed the platoons of troopers that would often march past, trying to glare daggers through their shiny white buckets, but they paid you no mind. The hours ticked by, making you more and more anxious by the second. You had no way of knowing how soon the Wyvern would arrive, could be hours, could be minutes. Could be seconds.

-į̶̱̩̄͋ͅt'̶̡̳̰̝̇s̴̈̅ ̵̧̛̺̂̈̋͋̏͘͝c̷̄͋͛̚oṁ̸͌̋̾́̈́̕͝i̸̇̏-

I’m aware! You snapped at your thoughts, pissed that they were still present long after Grogu had purged them from your mind. I must be going crazy, it’s the guilt. It has to be the guilt. You rubbed at your temples, trying to dispel the mounting tension in your skull. When you opened your eyes a sweeper droid was clearing away the glass shards from the floor, and you cocked your brows at it as it went by. When did the lights burn out?

Eventually the interior repairs were completed to the fullest, and the moment the ramp hydraulics were functional again you slammed the door shut and booked it back to the freezer controls.You turned a pair of knobs on the side of the carbonite block and took a step back. The metal that covered your beloved crewmates turned red, then bright gold, sloughing off in luminous waves.

You jumped to catch Din and the foundling before they hit the ground, his strength lost from the effects of hibernation sickness, nearly causing him to melt onto the floor along with the aurelius sludge pooling at your feet. In your ear you heard both of your boys taking desperate, broken breaths; and you rubbed at Din’s dorsal plate, encouraging him to fill his lungs.

As a unit you sank down to the floor where the child practically rolled into your lap. His enormous eyes were squinty and blinking, making you think that he may be temporarily blinded. “Hey booger, it’s ok, can you hear me?” Grogu made a sad little noise, but that meant he could at least still hear. “There ya go, that’s it, nice’n slow. Y’ok?” The child looked up at you with a twisted expression, then immediately yarked bright blue all over your shirt. “You know what, I deserved that, thanks.”

Din’s modulated cough grated in your ear. “How… long?”

“Couple hours, but the repairs are finished, we can get the fuck outta here now. Are you alright? You gonna barf?” He started to shake his head no, but the shaking might have been his downfall because you felt him start to heave. “Not in the bucket not in the bucket! Come on, up! Heeere we go…” You gently set Grogu down on the floor and bullied yourself up under Din’s arm, dragging him as fast as you could to the fresher. You barely got the beskar out of the way in time for your partner to empty his stomach. “That’s it, let it all out, I gotcha.”

Din hung on to the sides of the fresher like his life depended on it, shaking violently with every hurl, and there wasn’t much else you could do but hold on. He released one armored claw from the side of the fresher to reach back and find you, but when you tried to hold his hand to comfort him he pulled his fingers from your grasp. Again you tried, but this time he didn’t just let go, he pushed you away, and you heard him mumble something into the fresher bowl.

“-..a...tor-”

“What’d you say?”

“Traitor!!!” Din spat, curling back around at you with viciously bared teeth, eyes wild and bloodshot. You backpedaled away from the fuming warrior that was half crawling half leaping towards you, making weak throws that were slowly gaining in strength. “You fucking traitor! I should have known! I should have known from the very fucking start!” You’d never seen him angry without the helmet, and it terrified you. He terrified you.

You put up your hands defensively, backing away from him. “Please! Let me explain! It wasn’t-”

“I don’t listen to Imps!” He swung at you and missed, but his agility was quickly returning. You wouldn’t be so lucky the second time.

“Damn it Din, fucking listen-” Ignoring you, he groped for the gun on his belt, and you were barely able to grab your armor in time from the freezer to block his reckless shots. You crouched over Grogu, using your body and the face plate as a shield against the assaulting Mandalorian. “Din! Stop! Please! You’re going to hurt our son!”

“Our?!” He hissed, snarling around the word. “That is MY son! Get away from him!” Din grabbed the beskar mask and tried to pull it from you, yanking you up from the floor. “MY son does not belong to you, this does not belong to you! Who do you think you are?!”

“Who am I?! I’m your wife!”

He stopped trying to wrestle the lovingly-chosen armor away from you, meeting your eyes with his own darkened gaze. His earthly irises flickered fast between both of your own pupils, searching your face for something, some kind of reminder. A reminder that he loves you. The muscles on the side of his jaw clenched and rippled, chewing on the words he was looking for.

When he spoke his voice was hoarse, but certain, as if there would never be a greater truth than the one he breathed into being.

“No, you’re not.”

The coldness in his tone stabbed icicles in your veins and froze your mouth closed, rendering you speechless. His hateful gaze looked down to the mask still in your hands, twisting into a pained expression. “Did… did this mean anything to you?”

“Din… please…” you begged, you voice barely above a whisper, “It means everything to me, you mean everything to me!” Behind you Grogu was already starting to cry again, making the situation even worse. “I love you! I did what I did to protect you, to protect Grogu! I didn’t want those Imp bastards to take you. Can’t you see that?”

The Mandalorian laughed, miasmatic and sickly, infected with distrust. “Isn’t that just like an Imp, lying right up til the very end.” He let go of the beskar as if it was unclean, then turned swiftly around on his heel, striding to the fresher to grab his helmet from where it had been discarded on the floor. He picked it up and looked into it’s visor, almost like he was debating whether or not he could put it back on. It sank over his head with a hiss of it’s latches, amplifying his dominating presence tenfold.

You pressed on, balling your fists in determination. “It shouldn’t matter who I used to be, just who I am now. I don’t know anything about your past, all I know is who you are now, I know that you are my… ner rid-oor…”

He was on you in a flash. “Don’t make me cut out your lying tongue as well, Mando’a is sacred, I should have never taught it to you.” In one swift motion he grabbed the offensive beskar from your useless fingers and threw it somewhere behind him, the iron clanging ugly against the durasteel decking. He dug behind his chestplate and found the lucky talismans you had given him as a sign of your affection, a sign that he now decided should have been a big red flag, shoving them into your empty hands.

“You have dishonored me.”

The Mandalorian bent to pick the crying youngling up off the floor, carrying him over to the bed you had all shared. He didn’t turn around to face you when he spoke again. “Get out.”

His frigid words had you frozen in place, frozen in time. He’s leaving you. Your mind was racing, your heart flooding with sadness and grief. Words abandoned you, giving you only a whisper of your silver tongue.

“Din.. I-I didn’t have a choi-”

“GET OUT!!!” He ripped your backpack off the wall and flung it at you, making you reel from the impact. The ramp opened behind you, and you were suddenly being shoved out the door, rolling backwards out of the Crest. You scrambled to your feet, clutching the krayt teeth so hard that the edges cut your palms while you banged on the rising wall of steel.

From behind the closing door you heard a sound, faint but desperate, nearly inaudible over your own pounding heartbeat. It sounded distinctly like a baby’s cry.

“Bubu!”

-SLAM!-

The access ramp sealed shut, and a shiny silver dome appeared in the rounded transparisteel viewport where Mando was taking his seat at the controls. Imps began swarming you while the old gunship’s engines flared to life, burning like a newly risen phoenix. Poorly-aimed blaster fire ricocheted off the ship’s hull while her landing gear tucked itself up, and soon the home you had grown to know and love was blasting towards the hangar exit without you.

The Razor Crest slid through the magcon field, the backs of her engines turning bright blue as her stardrive kicked into gear, rocketing her into warp speed just as an enormous star cruiser dropped out of hyperspace, dwarfing the station with her size. As prideful and arrogant as the Empire she sailed for, she took up the starfield with the domineering presence of a ship that had once served as the Death Star’s loyal guard dog.

It could be no other than the Wyvern’s Tongue.

-ȉ̴͗t̴'̴s̶̛̓͝͠ he̷̍̂r̶̔ë̷́.-

If you had a single coherent thought left to your name you would have made a series of snide remarks to the completely useless voice that whispered in your ears. You would have fought back against the stormtroopers that were roughly grabbing you and forcing you down under the barrels of their guns. You would have ran through the station and commandeered one of the other ships that had come in for repairs and blasted off to somewhere, anywhere else.

If you weren’t so grief-stricken, so heart-broken, so lost, you would have hurled literal dragonfire at the man who was approaching you now.

The troop commander spoke first. “Sir, this one allowed the mando to esca-”

“Get her up. Now.” You were hauled back up to your feet, but your eyes stayed on the forcefield that was draped over the stars, just waiting for the Razor to come back around.

To come back for you.

Your view became blocked by a tall, thin man in an Imperial uniform, his lapel shining with an even bigger emblem of authority than the last time you had seen it. His soulless eyes bored right into yours, and you knew instantly by the look on his face that he hadn’t forgotten his favorite communications officer. “Sparrow? Is that you?”

The long abandoned nickname stung like needles in your ears, reeling you violently into the present. The admiral cupped your chin and brought your eyes up, forcing you to see him and stop pretending that he wasn’t real; that he was an apparition brought to life by your wailing night terrors. “It is. My little Sparrow has flown back to me.”

The stormtrooper braved an interruption, “Sir, the mando-”

Admiral Forescythe silenced him with a wave of his hand, “No matter, the universe has brought me something even better than whatever Moff Gideon had been after.” The glare on the Admirals face turned to a sickly smile “Pray tell, little bird, won’t you sing me a song? I’ve so missed your lovely voice.”

You shook your head from his hand and pointed to the electromagnetic cuffs that still hung from the backs of your ears, the last remainder of the beloved faceplate you had been gifted. “Hull breach, tone deaf.” was all the excuse you could muster. A stiff leather glove rose up to brush over the Mandalorian steel, and you fought every animalistic urge to go batshit ballistic, rip the admiral limb from limb.

“What a pity, but at least you can still speak.” He was standing too close now, and the disgust you felt for the man who practically raised you made your flesh boil under his gaze. His gloved hand slid down from your ear and grabbed at the bottom of your jaw, forcing your head to tilt while he inspected the bitemarks Din had put on your neck when he still loved you. “At least you haven’t been lonely, good thing I had you chipped when I did. Shame on you for letting someone defile you in such a manner, were you still on my ship I would have had them jettisoned.”

The Admiral raked his eyes over your disheveled form, from your marked flesh to your blackened eyes and your blue-stained shirt, his face twisting in disgust. “Whatever life you have been living clearly doesn’t suit you, it’s high time you cease this reckless behavior and come back to where you belong.” He bent down and picked your backpack up off the floor where it had fallen, slinging one ratty strap over his neatly-pressed shoulder; then extended a hand to you. “Are you ready to come home now, my little Sparrow?”

You blinked a few times at the question, your heart becoming as cold as stone. Home? The Wyvern was not your home anymore, and the admiral was not your family. But the home you knew, the family you loved was now lightyears away, far far away from where you were now; and they weren’t coming back.

Din wasn’t coming back.

That left only one place left for you to go.

Back... home.

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[kotokoharrow]

Case Study 001: Haruka Sakurai

Note that this analysis is based around my own views. I do not present my way of interpreting Haruka as fact, and I am sharing this to see if others agree with me. If you disagree, you are more than welcome to say so and we can discuss it!

Content Warning: This analysis contains discussion of: Animal abuse and death, child abuse and death, emotional abuse, child neglect, murder, flashbacks and nightmares. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to any of these topics!

Evidence List:

Haruka’s Profile

Haruka’s Voice Drama

Undercover

Weakness

Two Breaths Walking

Voice Line

Timeline Convo

Character Analysis

A young male prisoner, quiet with downcast eyes. During Es’ early interrogations, he offered only a few constrained words in response. However, he has gradually become more talkative, forming an emotional bond over the course of his interviews. Once one begins to converse with him, his gentle pre-disposition is revealed.

He has a meek temperament and, even in Milgram, does not appear to be dissatisfied. Barely manages to communicate with Es and the other prisoners. However, during conversations, as if some meaning is lost along the way, there is a disconnect.

Haruka is a teenager with a very low opinion of himself, shown in his attitude in his voice drama and the lyrics of his song. When he appears in Undercover, he is shown wringing his hands together, avoiding looking at the camera, and when he finally does shows an unhappy expression. These pieces of his body language show that he is an anxious boy.

Haruka doesn’t appear to be very bright, with his song being written in hiragana, and he struggles to follow along with everything that Es says to him in his voice drama. He even says himself that he isn’t very bright. However, this is likely a result of his mother’s treatment of him, as he hasn’t been allowed to develop as he should have.

The shot in Undercover that shows his room shows young children’s toys on the floor. This, along with his speech patterns, show that he remains in a child’s mindset, despite being 17 years old. I believe that this is due to him becoming ‘stuck’ at an age where he experienced a traumatic event as a child - the event that revolved around fireworks and the girl in his MV.

Haruka’s primary motivation is love. He was neglected and emotionally abused by his mother his whole life, and so has been deprived of the love that most people receive from their parents. Despite love being his motivation, he shows in his interrogation questions that he doesn’t really understand what it is - he just knows that he wants it.

While his primary motivation is love, Haruka’s primary fear is abandonment. He is also afraid of being deceived, which again ties into his fear of abandonment. Haruka believes that everyone will leave him when they learn what he has done, and also believes that he will bring misfortune to others. This belief of bringing misfortune to others is likely a belief that his mother gave to him.

Haruka avoids situations and things that remind him of his trauma, such as animals and small children. This, as well as imagery in his MV, his mother’s treatment of him and his general personality, lead me to believe that he experiences PTSD.

The kanji in his given name means ‘far’ or ‘distant’, which likely references his personality, and the fact that he finds it difficult to get close to and communicate with others, due to having been deprived of connections for most of his life.

MV Analysis

I believe that Weakness takes place after Haruka has committed his crimes, and that it’s showing events from his past in the form of nightmares and flashbacks, which is why they appear distorted and there is heavy symbolism. As a result of this, even what we see in the MV is ambiguous as to whether it really happened, as dreams are not always literal and even with flashback-type nightmares, key facts can appear different to what happened in reality.

At the beginning of the MV, we see Haruka sitting in front of a dressing table, looking at himself in the mirror. The table is likely his mothers, as the perfume bottles on it seem to belong to a woman. Behind Haruka, we can see a window that shows that it’s daytime, but when his reflection in the mirror changes into his younger self, we can see that it is night-time outside (with red sky and a full moon). As the image changes, I believe this is Haruka experiencing a flashback, or perhaps a sign that he is having a nightmare.

I also believe that Haruka experiences PTSD as a result of his mother being emotionally abusive and neglectful towards him. I believe that this mistreatment when he was a young child explains a lot of his current personality - his behaviour fits in well with the behaviours of people who survive emotional abuse (doubting his own perception of things, a very strong negative opinion of himself, fear of abandonment).

There are many lyrics in Weakness that I believe point towards Haruka’s mother being emotionally abusive. The notable ones to me are: ‘Tell me, why are you drifting away from me? / Tell me, why do you say it’s my fault?’ and ‘If I tried and couldn’t say it / You would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless”’. I believe that these lyrics are directed at Haruka’s mother.

As for imagery in the MV, when Haruka initially falls backwards from the dressing table, he falls into the liquid from his mother’s perfume, which shows how her treatment of him has surrounded him. Later, while he’s walking alongside her happily, she barely looks back down at him, and when adult Haruka pushes his younger self back, the following image is shown:

I believe the drawing in the background is meant to be Haruka’s mother, and his cruel treatment of his younger self is meant to show that he has internalised his mother’s abuse, going on to blame and punish himself for what he believes she would blame and punish him for.

Later, it shows Haruka as a child watching the fireworks with a girl his own age, whose face is blacked out like his mother’s. While it’s not clear what exactly happened, something bad happened to the girl, and she vanished from his life.

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think that Haruka killed the girl. I think something bad happened to her - possibly she even died - and that Haruka blames himself for what happened, whether fairly or unfairly. I believe that what happened was traumatic to Haruka, and he tried to avoid thinking about the bad part by focusing on his memory of the fireworks, which is a part of his denial.

Later, Haruka is petting a dog with his mother. Then, he goes outside to search for the dog, and comes across the dog’s body. Initially, I believed that Haruka had killed the dog, and I still think that this is a highly likely theory, as yellow roses are seen (which in flower language used to represent jealousy), and the lyrics that play during this point are ‘You praised me by saying “You’re crazy” / Thank you, I’ll do my best’ which, to me, alludes to children acting out for attention when they are being neglected, because due to the lack of positive attention they begin to see all forms of attention as a good thing, including negative attention.

However, in the timeline conversations, there is an exchange between Haruka and Shidou where Haruka has bloodied hands, and he tells a concerned Shidou that it comes from a bad habit of his, that when he’s tense he clenches his fists and his nails dig into his palms, causing them to appear bloodied.

Shidou: Sakurai-kun...? Could you show me your hand? Haruka: Hei!? No, this isn’t... it’s n-nothing... Shidou: Lend it to me. ...Your palm is covered in blood. Let’s have it disinfected. This... has it always been like this? Haruka: A-ah... I-it’s a habit... W-When I feel tense I grip my hands really tight, and my nails...

This detail has caused me to wonder if Haruka didn’t actually kill the dog. We see child Haruka looking for the dog nervously, and then appearing horrified when he finds the dogs corpse, then he looks down at his hands and sees blood on them. We also only see adult Haruka bludgeoning the dog. It’s common for people with PTSD to re-experience trauma from different perspectives, or with details changed, so it’s possible that Haruka did not kill the dog.

However, at this point, I think either explanation could be possible, so I’ll leave both of those theories here and move on.

Later, when it shows adult Haruka strangling child Haruka, I believe that this is when Haruka’s Milgram murder takes place. Before he begins strangling his child self, he is seen looking at a memory of himself being ignored by his mother, and becomes enraged, lashing out at his child self and strangling him, seemingly in an act of self-loathing.

However, I believe that Haruka is actually murdering his mother, having finally snapped and let out all of his repressed feelings. After the murder is over, I believe that Haruka was so horrified by what he did, he went into denial - which is something he has practice from doing his whole life - and the details of what he did became distorted.

In conclusion, I believe the following:

The MV takes the form of Haruka’s nightmares, which is why it’s ambiguous, unreliable and distorted

Haruka was emotionally abused and neglected by his mother since childhood

Haruka didn’t kill the girl, but he does blame himself for what happened to her

EITHER: Haruka killed the dog to try and get his mother to notice him, OR Haruka didn’t kill the dog but still in some way blames himself for the dog’s death

Haruka killed his mother directly due to his repressed feelings of anger towards her for abusing and neglecting him

Haruka is horrified by what he did, and on some level is in denial of the facts of what happened

Misc Analysis

Undercover

Haruka’s bedroom has toys that would be more appropriate in the bedroom of a young child. This shows that he is mentally stuck in a child-like state. Interestingly, there is also a drawing of a tree with two snakes that also appears during his MV. I don’t know what this means.

Haruka is shown strangling Es, which backs up the idea that Haruka’s murder happened when he was shown strangling his child self. Haruka’s mouth is wide open, showing that his murder involved heightened emotion on his part. This wasn’t a cold and calculated murder, this was a spur-of-the-moment response to something.

Interrogation Questions

I’m picking a few notable interrogation questions to analyse. In general, though, Haruka’s answers were much simpler than Yuno’s, which shows his child-like mindset and difficulty in understanding things.

Q: If one of your wishes could be granted, what would it be? A: I want to be loved.

Pretty straightforwards. This shows Haruka’s core motivation is to be loved.

Q: When was your first love? A: I don’t know.

Q: What’s the difference between romantic love and just love? A: Don’t they both mean that you like someone?

Q: What’s your ideal date plan? A: I don’t understand.

Despite his core motivation being wanting to be loved, Haruka doesn’t understand much about love, due to having been deprived of it his whole life.

Q: What kind of person is your father? A: I disappointed him.

This is the only time we hear of Haruka’s father. I’d guess that his mother blamed Haruka for his father leaving them, and that’s why he believes that he disappointed his father.

Q: Have you ever had a pet before? A: I have not.

Q: What is your favourite animal? A: I don’t like animals.

Q: What are some things you can’t deal with? A: Small children and animals.

Haruka denies any incident that was traumatic to him.

Q: What do you think of your family? A: I love them.

Despite having been deprived of love from his mother, he still says he loves them.

Q: Tell us what you enjoy doing. A: I like talking with the other prisoners.

Haruka talks about what he’s been doing since coming to Milgram, which implies that he didn’t have much he enjoyed doing beforehand.

Two Breaths Walking

A song about a boy meeting a girl. The girl tries to teach the boy about life, but due to the boy’s mother having taught him about life wrongly, he struggles to understand, and as a result ends up hurting the girl.

With Haruka as the boy, the girl in his MV as the girl, and his mother as the boy’s mother, this directly parallels Haruka’s MV. There isn’t much to talk about, because the parallels are pretty direct. It backs up the idea that Haruka’s mother was abusive, teaching him wrongly through her abuse and neglect.

Voice Drama

Es: Now, let’s begin the interrogation. Prisoner Number 1, Haruka. Haruka: O-Okay… I-I’m sorry… Es: Huh? Do you have something to apologise for? Haruka: U-uh, no… I’m sorry.

This shows us Haruka’s submissive personality. This kind of apologising for any perceived fault is very common in survivors of emotional abuse, because they learnt in the abusive environment that their abuser could find fault in anything, and to lower the severity of abuse, they would apologise. However, as this level of apologising isn’t needed or expected in regular situations, when it carries over it stands out.

Haruka: Ah, uh, um… I didn’t understand whatever it was you were saying. It was difficult. Es: Huh? Haruka: Uh, um… I’m sorry. I’m not that bright. Es: Haruka. What age are you? Haruka: Um… 17 years old, I think. Es: You think? Haruka: Uh, well… I have no interest in my age… I’m sorry.

Haruka isn’t used to having to think for himself, which is also common in survivors of emotional abuse. Abusers try to make their victims dependent on them, they may try to make decisions for their victims, or in the case of abusive parents may speak for them and deprive their children of the ability to develop. Taking into account Haruka’s cover song, I think it’s likely that this was the case with his mother.

Es: The only name left that hasn’t been said is Amane. Haruka: A-Amane. Es: What’s wrong? Haruka: I-I’m not good with them. Children at that age. A-Amane is a good girl, but she brings back b-bad memories.

This is most likely referring to whatever happened with the girl in Haruka’s MV. Haruka avoids thinking about traumatic incidents, even in his nightmares he avoids the details of them. Avoiding triggers of traumatic events is a symptom of PTSD.

Haruka: It’ll happen sometime. I… I… Even though I try to be normal, everything gets ruined. You, everyone, if you knew me… If you knew everything that I did… I’m… gonna be abandoned, that’s bound to happen. Because I’m a selfish killer.

Due to his abuse, Haruka solely blames himself for everything that happens. It’s likely that his mother blames him even for things that weren’t his fault, so this thought process stuck. Haruka’s primary motivation is love, and his biggest fear is abandonment.

Glitched Voice Line

Then what should I have done instead!? Tell me! Tell me so even I can understand!

I believe that this line from Haruka is addressed to his mother who he killed. He felt that he had no way to gain her love, and he is looking to her to tell him what to do.

Other Theories

Twin Theory

A theory I’ve seen says that the child in Haruka’s MV isn’t Haruka as a child, and is actually his twin. I don’t think we have any evidence to support this. I think that, given how much of Haruka’s MV is made up with abstract imagery, we should be careful with interpreting it too literally.

Autistic Haruka Theory

I have no issue with people seeing Haruka as being autistic, however, all of the theories about him being autistic seem to come from an outdated view of autism. I am autistic myself, and while I can recognise a lot of autistic traits in Haruka’s behaviour, I don’t think autism is what they were going for. I think that Haruka’s ‘autistic traits’ are, instead, supposed to show that he’s in a child-like mentality after a trauma that took place in his childhood, and that his behaviour has been strongly influenced by his abusive mother. I believe we have evidence that points towards this specifically, but no evidence that points specifically towards Haruka being autistic.

Unexplained

Why does Haruka say that his hands bleed when he’s nervous and what connection does that have to the blood on his hands in the MV?

What is the significance of the necklace that Haruka wears?

What is the significance of the girl in the MV?

What happened while watching the fireworks?

Did Haruka kill the girl?

What’s the significance of the tree and the snakes?

Final Verdict

My Verdict: Innocent.

I’m very glad that the popular vote determined that Haruka was innocent! My major reasons for this are: 

1. His MV is the most abstract right now - it’s unclear exactly what happened, so any judgement based on his crime is going to be difficult. 2. For Haruka to open up more, I think he needs to be reassured that he will not be abandoned. I think that Haruka’s second MV will give us more details, because we have reassured him that he will not be abandoned.

Thank you for reading this ridiculously long thing! I hope to write these for all of the prisoners, and eventually catch up to where we currently are with the voting! If you enjoyed my analysis, please consider sharing so it can reach a wider audience!

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villian-Sicle | Part 2

I didn’t expect to get such a crazy response to the first part of this. Here’s part two! I’m always open to continuing this, I love hero/villain whump. Thanks for reading! I hope you like it.

Find part one here.

CW//Superhero whump, villain whumpee, environmental whump (kinda), hypothermia, hospital setting, death mention, delusions, torture mention, pet whump mention (but not really)

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

Villain’s fingers burned.

It was quite paradoxical-- a caveat of the confusing structure of organs known as human anatomy. When cold got great enough, the nervous system somehow interpreted it as intense heat. Tricking itself into believing that warmth might finally be coming, maybe.

Villain knew that such a wish was hopeless. Warmth was a far off memory, as far as they were concerned.

They tucked their knees closer to their chest, pressing their forehead against them and shoving their hands in their pockets, for whatever minimal heat it would provide. As their teeth began to chatter, they gritted them together and closed their eyes. The shelf they leaned against dug into their spine.

“Take stock, and understand your situation.” The brief training they had been provided at their former place of employment sprung into their head, stupidly cheery voice and all. “A level head is more important than any weapon.”

Stupid voice, stupid seminar, stupid job, stupid heroes.

Villain did their best to take a deep breath-- though it did little but fill their lungs with frigid air.

Take stock. Understand your situation. Keep a level head.

The computer in the next room over chipperly reported that they had been in their current predicament for just over five minutes. Five minutes, thirteen seconds, twenty-two milliseconds, and six hundred eight-six nanoseconds, to be slightly more precise. That was the time that had passed since the Heroes had chased them into their own freezing cold tomb.

The moment replayed again in their mind; a series of panicked moments and thoughts, all kaidoscoping into a brilliant moment of word association. That was what had landed them here. Their own stupidity. Not that it wouldn’t have been a problem if the Heroes hadn’t chased them in the first place! Why did they even care about the Serum?! What was it to them?!

Why did Villain have to die for it?

They didn’t know exactly how long it would take for the cold to kill them. The computer beeped and spat out all the medical facts it could, but the fact stood that hypothermia affected everyone differently, dependent on a thousand different factors.

That wasn’t the real question. They knew that. They didn’t care if their last breath would be in five minutes or a hundred. All that mattered was that, in all probability, dying of cold would be quicker than dying at the hands of the Heroes.

In their pockets, they balled their fists. They didn’t notice they were crying until a tear dripped onto their neck, sending a horrid shiver through them.

It was just a stupid bottle. A stupid chemical. It was that fucking chain of atoms that had left them here--between a rock and a hard place. Between dying of cold and being tortured to death. Hell, both ways were torture! Everything was!

Why could nothing ever go right?!

With a coordination they didn’t realize they had, Villain shot to their feet (though it wasn’t exactly a graceful movement.) The tears brimming in their eyes didn’t help their vision, but they didn’t need to see. They didn’t need anything! What was the point, if they were just going to die?!

A sweeping hand aimed itself at one of the wall-high shelves, sending a line of bottles crashing to the ground and shattering in an explosion of glass snowflakes. Their contents spilled out on the tile, and whatever remained of their containers was quickly smashed under Villain’s shoe. They whipped around, attacking another shelf in the same way. Again, they reached for their next strike, but found only steel shelving. Another paradoxical burst of strength sent the whole shelf careening to the ground, sending a blizzard of shattered glass into the air.

Villain unballed their fists, panting, their lungs gasping in the frigid air. Their adrenaline rush finally wore off, sending them to the floor.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leader’s words were cut off by a resounding crash.

They whipped around, sputtering out a last few unintelligible syllables as their attention focused on the steel door. Nerves glittered in their gaze as they clenched their jaw.

“Shit.” They muttered. “Medic?”

“Sounds like one of the shelves fell.”

“Dammit. I suppose they’re not quite sedated yet, then.”

“Cold isn’t the quickest.” Medic shook their head. “At this temperature, real hypothermia shouldn’t set in for about five more minutes.”

Leader sighed, turning back to the rest of the group. There weren’t many of them-- just Leader, Medic, Hero, and Counselor. The rest had been dispatched, on Leader’s orders, to the rest of the hospital, ensuring that none of Villain’s accomplishes had accompanied them. Regardless, the four of them would be more than enough to overwhelm Villain, when they came out.

“You’re saying they can only make it five more minutes in there?” Hero asked, their hands fidgeting at their sides. Small sparks of power appeared along their fingertips-- a surefire sign of their nerves.

“No.” Medic deadpanned. “In approximately five minutes, hypothermia will start to set in. It won’t be fatal for quite a while. I’d say we have an hour, at least.”

“Villain will give up before then.” Leader reassured. “I’ll...”

They swallowed and approached the steel door separating them from their captive. Captive? Was that the right word? Maybe. Villain had, in all truth, sealed themself in the cold storage. There was no lock on the outside. They could leave whenever they so chose. Right into the Heroes hands, of course, but still.

Leader hadn’t exactly expected Villain to stay in the room. They had expected them to turn around as soon as they entered, to keep up the chase. Yet, they hadn’t.

They had to give up soon. They were surrounded. They were stubborn as all get out, but they weren’t stupid. It was death by hypothermia, or surrender. The better of the two was pretty damn clear.

Taking a sharp breath in an attempt to raise their own confidence, Leader knocked on the door.

The response wasn’t verbal. Rather, it came in the form of a panicked yelp, and the scrambling of someone backing away.

Leader exhaled. They supposed that they would have to do the talking, here.

“Hello? Villain?”

A muffled swear came from the room. That was all the greeting they had really expected.

“You’re going to need to come out of there, before you’re in danger. You’re not equipped for those temperatures, you know that. No one is gonna hurt you.”

Leader nearly fell backwards at the sudden crash of an object against the other side of the door. It seemed that negotiations weren’t going to go very far, just yet. With a sigh, they turned back to their gathered team.

“Hero, go get some blankets. One of those electric ones, if you can. This isn’t looking good.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Pourquoi pas niquer le sérum si tu l’aimes ainsi.” Villain swore under their breath.

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes and thirty two seconds and- and who gave a shit. They’d been stuck in this damn room for fifteen minutes.

The shivering had only started about three minutes ago. It was nothing like normal shivering-- that incurred when waiting for a bus in the cold. The tremors were far more violent than that, shaking their body. They felt their mind to be knocking around their head with the sheer force of it.

The chattering of their teeth had become normal to them, normal, though it was just as violent and just as uncontrollable.

Outside, their killers spoke in hushed voices. Villain wasn’t sure if they even wanted to know what they were talking about. Probably about how to torture them first. Knives, or fire, or electricity, wouldn’t that be ironic! Jokes on them, dammit! They wouldn’t get the chance. Nope, no, no chance for them... no chancy chancy.

Without thinking about it, or hardly even noticing, their blue-tinted fingertips fumbled at their jacket’s zipper, until they were finally able to undo it. They slipped the garment off, throwing it across the floor.

Much better.

Still, why did they feel so hot...?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Will this be enough?” Hero appeared from around a corner, nearly giving Leader a heart attack with just how suddenly they appeared. In their arms was piled a heap of blankets. They were thin, just enough to keep a patient warm as they fell under anesthesia, but Hero must’ve had at least ten of them.

“I sure hope so.” Leader nodded, gesturing for them to put the pile down. As Hero did so, Leader turned back to Counselor and Medic.

Medic cleared their throat, continuing their throat from before Hero had scared everyone half to death with their appearance.

“Hypothermia is generally thought to occur in three stages. The first is the most mild-- consisting mainly of mild shivering and numbness of the peripheral digits. Stage two is when things start to get... dangerous. Shivering becomes violent, and the patient may be unable to perform finer motor functions. It’s at this stage that the cold begins to affect... mental capabilities. Irrational behavior is common. Hallucinations and delusional states aren’t unheard of. And stage three...”

They hesitated for a moment, until Leader raised an eyebrow.

“Shivering stops. The patient will generally fall into a coma before their heart gives out.”

“We can’t let that happen.” Counselor’s voice sounded as though they were on the verge of tears, which was a very real possibility. Still, the determination in their tone won out over any fear. “Can I talk to them?”

“Be my guest.” Leader nodded.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Villain?”

The tone was quiet. Soft. Whimsical and moving and whisping like a... like a whisper.

Villain looked up. Their cell was tiny-- an eight foot by eight foot construction of corrugated steel. A chain hung limply from the ceiling, from which a light had once hung. That’d been removed, after Villain had made it explode upon their Trainer. Their cot had gone with it, leaving the room bare, with nothing but four walls, a floor, and a ceiling.

“Villain, I’m Counselor. I don’t know if we’ve really met. I know you’re scared, and I can’t blame you. But if you stay where you are right now, you could get really hurt. I know I can’t force you to come out, but... what are you worried about? You can talk to me. I won’t even tell any of the others, I promise.”

The door opened, flooding the room with light. Villain scrambled backwards, hitting a wall that wasn’t where it should be. The two figures that entered were blank-- their faces featureless, nothing but expanses of skin, lacking eyes or anything of the like. One clipped a leash to the ring hanging from Villain’s collar, while the other lifted them from under their armpits.

“Please no I don’t want to go please I’m still healing please I can’t go for that long again I’m still healing. I won’t be of any use please just give me a bit more time.”

That was what they had meant to say, at least. The words came out in a stream of nonsensical syllables.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that. Do you speak English? Um... Voulez-vous un traducteur ? Un traductor ?”

Villain struggled to their feet, lacking any other choice with the tight grip the figure held upon their leash. The tiles clicked beneath their feet, which didn’t make much sense, as the floor of their cell was made of steel.

The figures led them outside of their cell, into the wider facility. Other figures hurried around, faces equally blank. Preparing for a mission, Villain could only assume.

Someone called out to the figures escorting them. They turned. They felt the grip on their leash loosen.

Their heartbeat drummed in their head at the realization. The facility was so busy. Everyone was so distracted... what other chance would they get?

Villain took the risk.

A quick jerk of their neck sent their leash flying from the figure’s hands. They turned to run, but found something blocking their way. They couldn’t see it, but they felt something in their hands...

“Yeah! Come on, Villain, that’s it. Just turn the lock. It’s gonna be okay, alright? Just turn the lock.”

Turn the lock. Turn the lock. Behind them, the figures were already shouting. For a moment, their fingers fumbled around at the contraption, before, at last, they did it. They turned the lock.

The door burst open, and a gust of freezing air with it. Counselor was practically thrown backwards with the sheer force of it, sending them stumbling.

Before Villain, three more of the faceless figures approached, seeming as though they had been in the middle of something. Within a moment, they had turned to them, grasping desperately in a flurry of hands.

With clumsy strikes, Villain did their best to bat them away, but found a pair of strong hands pushing them to their knees, and then onto their face.

Why was everything so white? No, the facility didn’t look like that. It was so bright. They blinked. Where were they? With an absentminded hand, they reached to their neck, feeling for their collar, only to find nothing but frigid skin.

Just as quickly, their hand was pulled behind their back, along with their other arm. The cuffs were soft, fabric, rather than the biting hold of metal. A moment later, more fabric was piled on top of them as a blanket was draped over their shoulders.

Where were they?

Again, they blinked, only to find the facility replaced with a bright, sterile hallway. Where had they gone. Had they gone unconscious? They tried to struggle, but found themself unable.

“It’s okay.” The voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. “You’re okay. The doctors are going to be here any second. Just hold on. Hold on. It’s going to be okay.”

It didn’t make sense, but right about now, nothing did. The screeching wheels of a rapidly approaching gurney were the last thing Villain heard as they collapsed into blackness.

[nebulous-frog]

Rest Now

Relationships: JonMartin

Summary: Jon and Martin arrive at the safehouse 

Word Count: 1682

Link to AO3   Fics Masterlist

It was thunderstorming when they finally arrived, pulling up the near-forgotten path in a beat-up old car. On the drive, they hadn’t talked much- what was there to say? Since their last real conversation, neither had done anything that they particularly wanted to remember, and the inevitable discussion of what they’d just experienced was bound to be far too intense and emotional for their unexpected journey. Now, though, roughly twisting the key in the lock stuck from disuse, it was possible they’d have a chance for it to happen. For months- years, even- of emotions that should’ve been brought up ages ago.

Jon held back a grimace at the thought, awkwardly shuffling inside with his small bag and fumbling for a light switch. Part of him was desperate to get it over with, to finally air out all the dirty laundry and start afresh, to just be there for Martin in the ways he deserved. But another part, simultaneously logical and cowardly, was arguing that it was late, they’d had a long day, they were both exhausted. The conversation they needed to have was simply too much to cover while they were in such a state, he told himself.

“Jon?” Martin asked, voice quiet and tired.

Jon turned toward him expectantly, but he didn’t offer anything more, just gestured vaguely forward, and Jon realized he was still in the entryway.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Jon mumbled, stepping fully into the little cabin.

There were only a few rooms. The kitchen was tiny up against one side and shared the main open area with the living room and a small dining table. Directly across from the front door was a short hallway with a door on either side- presumably a bedroom and a bathroom.

Jon cleared his throat in time with a rumble of thunder.

“There’s some firewood over in that corner. I’ll get us a fire going,” he told Martin softly. “We should be able to get the radiator to start with a little work, but it’ll be easier tomorrow with more light.”

Martin nodded silently and walked slowly towards the hallway, slipping into the room on the left while Jon got busy with the firewood. He’d just coaxed some kindling into a flame when Martin came back in, hands wringing together. Jon recognized it as Martin’s anxious tell, which sent contradictory feelings through his system. On the one hand, Jon hated the thought that Martin was uncomfortable, but on the other he was just relieved that any feeling at all had pushed through the residual numbness of the Lonely.

“There’s, um, only the one bed,” Martin explained.

“Ah.” Jon glanced at the rickety loveseat sat in front of the fireplace, but Martin spoke again before he could make any suggestions.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, Jon,” he said sternly, his protective caretaker instincts shining through. “I, uh,” he swallowed, already nervous again, “I was thinking we should share anyway, since it’ll be so cold and the bed actually is fairly big and- well- I just…” he trailed off for a moment, not looking at Jon, then seemed to steel himself even as he shrunk in on himself further and kept his eyes trained on the floor between them. “I don’t think I should really be alone right now.” The end of his sentence was almost a whisper, embarrassment and vulnerability clear in the blush high on his cheeks.

It’d been a long time since Jon had seen him blush. It was even prettier than he remembered, and he hoped he could see it a lot more in the coming days, ideally as the result of more positive emotions. Maybe Jon could even cause it himself… he chastised himself for the thought, trying to focus back on the present and caring for Martin now.

“Alright,” Jon agreed. He turned his head just enough to check that the fire was taking, then moved to stand from the floor. His legs were still stiff from the drive, so it took a bit more effort than he was expecting.

Martin appeared at his side immediately, offering an arm for stability. Jon gratefully took it until he could get his cane properly situated in his other hand. He reluctantly let go, briefly looking up at Martin’s face and catching a hint of an expression he didn’t know how to interpret before Martin’s face returned to a more neutral place- although the blush was still intense.

“I don’t know about you,” Jon started, “but sleep sounds wonderful right now.”

Martin nodded. “I put sheets on the bed already.”

Together, they walked back to the bedroom. Jon changed into his light pajamas in the bathroom while Martin took the bedroom. A few minutes later, they stood side by side facing the bed.

“Do you have a preference for which side...?” Jon asked. He was determinedly ignoring the part of his mind reminding him of his feelings for the man he was about to share a bed with.

It wasn’t that he worried his feelings were unrequited- he was quite certain that Martin felt the same, having Seen each other so completely in the Lonely. But they’d barely spoken in months, and so much had happened since then. So much had happened even in the last few days. It was a big step to now share a bed without even discussing their boundaries, and Jon didn’t want to be too much too fast.

“No preference,” Martin answered, pulling Jon from his thoughts.

“Boundaries,” he blurted. He felt his cheeks heat furiously, his discomfort and exhaustion sending him stumbling towards this conversation unprepared.

Martin blinked at him, obviously confused. “We… we only have two pillows? We can’t really make one between us-”

“No, no,” Jon continued, eyes darting from the bed to Martin to the floor and back as he fiddled with the black ring on his middle finger. He’d come this far, and it really was important to discuss anyway, so he pushed through his awkwardness. “I meant, well. Metaphorical boundaries for physical touch, in- in this situation. I, um. I don’t mind however close we end up.”

Martin’s own cheeks flushed to match how Jon’s felt. “Oh. I, uh. I don’t mind either?”

Jon nodded, now staring hard at the bed. “Right. We- we should probably have a more, er, detailed discussion. At some point. I think we’re on a, uh. Similar page, so to speak,” he glanced nervously up at Martin’s face, “but it would be good to- well, to clarify. Sooner than later. But I think we’re far too exhausted to be very coherent about it now.”

Martin’s cheeks were still a bright red as he squeaked out a “Yeah, that- that sounds good, Jon.”

Jon nodded once more. “Right.” He walked stiffly towards the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding in.

Martin cautiously joined him on the other side, and they both laid there for a minute, flat on their backs, staring at the ceiling in total silence. Both men were as close to the edge of the mattress as possible, leaving a canyon between them, bodies rigid.

After a few tense minutes of being afraid to even move, Jon huffed. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, more to himself than anything else, and he rolled over on his side to face Martin. They’d both just established that neither of them would mind being closer together, so he might as well get comfortable. He still gave Martin some space, but he’d at least crossed into their invisible barrier and hopefully broke some of the awkward tension.

In return, Martin turned just his head to look back at Jon. He swallowed thickly, eyes flitting across Jon’s face in the dark.

“You know,” Martin began in hushed tones, turning to look back at the ceiling, “the Lonely has a real talent for clinging to its victims.” He held up a hand as Jon started to interject. “It’s just. You could be surrounded by people and still feel alone, maybe even lonelier than when you’re actually alone.” He turned to Jon again, a heartbreakingly fond yet sad expression just visible to Jon in the darkness. He smiled sadly. “You can lie in bed with the man you love and still feel Lonely.”

A pained sound punched out of Jon. His firm, official declaration of his feelings needed to wait for the morning, as he insisted they take more space and grandeur for Martin than a moment like this, but he couldn’t leave that unanswered. He scooted even closer to Martin, minimizing the gap and resting a hand on Martin’s arm.

“The man I love,” he said, pulling Martin’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss, soft as can be, on his knuckles, “may sometimes feel lonely and discouraged,” he flipped Martin’s hand over and pressed another kiss to his palm, “but he must know,” one more kiss, now to the inside of Martin’s wrist, “he will never be alone again.” Jon stared directly into Martin’s eyes, kissing the back of his hand again and using his thumb to lightly rub over the spot.

Martin’s lips had parted slightly in a silent gasp, his eyebrows drawn together in a complicated combination of emotions that Jon couldn’t decipher. He took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Come here?” he whispered, raising his free arm in invitation.

Jon lifted himself slightly and settled half on top of Martin, his face buried in Martin’s neck. He wrapped his arms around Martin’s stomach and couldn’t help the content sigh he let out, relaxing fully as Martin’s arms came up around him. He revelled in the closeness and the softness of Martin under him and around him.

“Thank you,” Martin whispered. He pressed his lips to the top of Jon’s head. “Thank you.”

Jon shook his head and squeezed tighter. “Anything,” he whispered into Martin’s neck. “Anything.”

They held each other tightly, just breathing together, for a long moment, feeling as though finally something had gone right. They rested in the reassurance of each other’s presence, eventually drifting off into blissfully dreamless sleep.

[chuckaf]

Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

[teawaffles]

It Happened One Night: Chapter 4

Sure enough, the ground in front of the shed had not dried out just yet — it had been trampled into a right mess, probably by all the people who had rushed to the crime scene. In this state, it was impossible to distinguish a single person’s footprints. On top of that, their own footprints had already been left behind, their shoes smeared with mud.

For now, Sherlock gave up on examining the ground, and entered the shed.

One might’ve thought the interior would be covered in heaps of reference materials and discarded artworks, but the shed itself was tidy. There were several candles and a candlestick on the floor near the entrance. As Daldry had testified, there was an easel with a half-finished painting on it, and another easel that was empty. Other than that, the interior was bare. Another door stood in a corner of the room.

Unfortunately, the floor of the shed was also covered in muddy footprints, although it was to a smaller extent than the ground outside.

“It’s the same here too, huh. If no one else had come in, then any footprints would probably belong to the culprit — dammit, why’d they have to walk around as they pleased?”

“Sorry; if I’d been quicker to stop them from entering the crime scene…”

“Don’t worry about it, John. You did your best. Anyhow, what we should be looking at is this.”

Sherlock walked further into the room, stopping before the other door. It seemed like no one else had ventured this far in — there were no muddy footprints. Even so, John could see that there was a bit of dirt stuck to the floorboard before the door.

When they turned the doorknob, the door opened without a hitch. It led to the back of the shed: in any case, there wasn’t any reason for it to lead to another room.

From behind Sherlock, John spoke up.

“So it’s the back door. Then this shed has two entrances: one in front, and another at the back.”

Sherlock looked around outside the door.

“What’s more, this entrance is in a blind spot when seen from the inn. Also…… here, John, look.”

Sherlock took a step outside to make way for him.

There was also a patch of exposed ground behind the shed, and on the opposite side of it was a well-maintained cobblestone path. But what was surprising was that, leading from the path to the shed, was a single set of distinct footprints.

“Sherlock. These were clearly made after the ground turned soft from the rain. So this shows that during the party, someone broke into the shed from outside — it’s an important piece of evidence, isn’t it?”

John went on excitedly, but in contrast, Sherlock remained silent as he pondered over something.

John cocked his head in confusion.

“……What’s wrong? Unless, someone intentionally went around to the back once the theft was discovered?”

Sherlock dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“That’s not it. John, can you see what’s strange about these footprints?”

“Huh?”

Hearing that, John scrutinised the footprints that continued up to the stone path. Then, he realised what Sherlock was referring to.

“These tracks…… They lead into the shed, but there are no tracks leading out.”

Sherlock chewed his lip slightly, as if ruminating over John’s analysis.

The footprints went in a single direction, towards the shed. If one were to consider this straightforwardly, the intruder probably entered the shed via the back door, but didn’t leave via the same route.

“Maybe the thief entered from the back, stole the painting, then left through the front door?”

“A break-in wouldn’t necessarily correspond with the art theft, but…… even so, if the thief entered from the back door to stay out of sight, it doesn’t make sense for them to leave from the front, since they would be visible from the inn.”

“Maybe something happened, and they couldn’t leave from the back?”

“That’s one possibility…… hmm?”

Sherlock suddenly paused and crouched down, staring intently at the ground.

“What happened? Did you find something new?”

“Yeah, here.”

Sherlock pointed at the wet earth as he replied. Although it was faint, there was a set of footprints that indicated a round trip from the stone path to the shed and back.

“This is definitely another set of prints, and it indicates someone has entered and left. But it seems to have been washed out by the rain.”

John voiced his interpretation, and Sherlock agreed.

“Quite right: these were made before the party started.”

The painting had been stolen during the celebration at the inn, and it had been raining at the time. Therefore, these footprints, which appeared to have been left before the rain started, were not made by the thief when they stole the painting.

Possibly, that artist had used the back entrance on some other business. That was what John reckoned, but Sherlock sank deep into thought as he looked at the ground and the inside of the shed in turn.

Apart from the problem of identifying the suspect, there was also the mystery of the footprints at the back door. However, they still didn’t have enough information to solve the case.

After giving the shed a once-over, and confirming that there was no other useful evidence, the two men had resolved to head back to the inn, when they realised that Daldry had walked over to the shed as well.

“Mr Holmes, Dr Watson: the police have arrived.”

“I see,” replied Sherlock. “So, what have they been doing?”

“They started interviewing the people who remained in the building. Also, it seems they’re visiting the guests who had returned home, and are conducting voluntary house searches.”

When he heard that, Sherlock made a somewhat troubled expression.

“That saves us some trouble, but…… house searches, huh. I hope the police here don’t jump to conclusions.”

“It’ll surely be alright. And if push comes to shove, you could always just leave.”

John had placed his full trust in Sherlock, and the detective smiled wryly at that as they returned to the inn with Daldry.

Inside, several police officers had already split up to question the party guests.

Sherlock took a seat at the counter, and tried to casually eavesdrop on a nearby conversation, but its contents were no different from what they had heard earlier.

Then, after he’d finished giving the police his statement, Rheos jogged over to the two men.

“H-How was it, Mr Detective? Have you found the location of the painting?”

Sherlock shook his head.

“I’m afraid not — we haven’t found any decisive clues. It seems it’ll take a while longer.”

The young artist hung his head with a jolt.

Suddenly, something they saw earlier surfaced in Sherlock’s mind: the candles at his feet.

“Hey, can I ask you something? That shed — how do you illuminate it?”

Rheos looked up as he replied.

“When I’m there at night, I use candles.”

“I see. But candlelight alone wouldn’t be able to light up the whole room, now would it?”

As the detective predicted, the young man narrowed his eyes.

“……That’s true. But it’s enough for me to paint by.”

“That makes sense. Then of course, when Daldry entered the shed back then, it must’ve been lit with candles as well. And when you’d walked halfway to the shed, you realised that the painting was missing.”

“Pretty much, that’s what happened.”

“Right? But, if that was the case, then……”

The detective became absorbed into his own thoughts. The abrupt end to their conversation left Rheos understandably confused, and John gave him an awkward bow in apology. After which, clearly unsatisfied, Rheos walked away.

“Oi, Sherlock. What were you doing, abandoning the victim like that?”

“Mmm, ah, sorry. Something was bugging me…… I just can’t work out the mystery of those footprints.”

“The ‘one-way’ footprints, huh. About that, I have a few theories.”

“Hmm, let’s hear it then.”

Sherlock shot him an inviting smile, and John lowered his voice.

“Firstly, the culprit left those footprints as they entered the shed. Then after they stole the painting, they walked backwards, stepping into their original footprints to leave the scene.”

“Nope. First off, there’s no reason to do that. Moreover, if they walked backwards over their tracks, the way their weight shifted would've be different from if they walked forwards normally. As far as I could tell, those footprints were made by someone walking from the path to the shed, in that direction.”

Sherlock immediately shot down his idea, but John was undaunted.

“If so, then maybe they used a rope or something when they left the shed, so they wouldn’t leave any tracks.”

“That’s not it either. If the culprit had a way to leave the shed without leaving any footprints, then they would’ve used the same method when they entered it. Why would they purposely leave footprints only when they went in?”

Yet again, Sherlock had immediately countered his argument, and now John’s expression clouded over.

“Well then, the culprit entered the shed and stole the painting. Then when they were about to open the door and leave, Mr Daldry appeared at the front entrance, so they temporarily hid in a corner of the shed. You said earlier that the candlelight couldn’t have lit up the whole room, right? And after Mr Daldry left, they tried to flee from the front entrance…… but because other people might come through the front door, they must have left via the back. Sorry, just forget this one.”

Realising the flaw in his reasoning halfway through, John retracted what he’d said, and began to anguish.

“Aargh, is this a dead end?”

“Don’t do that, John. Your ideas were pretty good.”

“But, didn’t I reach a deadlock in my argument?”

“True; why did they only leave footprints when entering the shed……?”

They agonised over the culprit’s intent, unable to get to the bottom of the case as of yet. Then, after a while, a police officer entered the inn.

“Excuse me, I have an important report……”

He spoke to a middle-aged man who looked to be his superior. Sherlock and John stood up from their seats, and casually moved closer.

“In one of the guests’ homes, we’ve discovered what appears to be the stolen painting.”