#i had no idea from beginning to end where it was going

[infiniteglitterfall]

Incorrect.

Happy 50th anniversary to the first article that came up when I googled "'transsexual lesbian' 1974."

(I picked a year at random, and searched for transsexual instead of trans because nobody was using trans as shorthand back then.)

Gay Community News.

February 22, 1975

"The Lesbian/Transsexual Misunderstanding."

By Margo. (Illustrated by a large grayscale photo of a long-haired lesbian doing a sort of show-offy squat pose in a pleated floor-length maxi skirt. actually she might be sitting on a stool we can't see, idk my image processing skills are crap. The photo is captioned, "This is Margo!" I'm going to bold things here and there for emphasis and easier reading; the original just bolded the beginnings of some paragraphs for easier reading.)

Being both a radical Lesbian and a male-to-female transsexual, I find myself at a vortex of conflict between the Lesbian and transsexual communities. In my more pessimistic moments, I sometimes feel as if the whole Lesbian community is down on me for being transsexual, and vice versa; in my more optimistic moments, I feel like writing articles like this one.

Although a few people have made Lesbian/transsexual controversies an arena for sheer hatred and bigotry, my hope is that honest misunderstandings between the overlapping Lesbian and transsexual communities are at the root of most problems.

To begin with, I myself as a Lesbian feminist have observed a great deal of sexism and heterosexual chauvinism among male-to-female transsexuals which must be upsetting to any Lesbian or even any straight feminist.

For example, Jan Morris (on the Dick Cavett Show) spoke about the "tragic" case of a male-to-female transsexual who desired Lesbian relationships after surgery: Cavett commented that the idea of a transsexual choosing Lesbianism was just too confusing to discuss further. As a Lesbian who considers love between women to be simple and very natural, I was depressed and angry.

Yet often transsexuals on television and other media make Ms. Morris seem feminist. They extol home and family as the essence of femaleness, reject gayness as immoral or unnatural, and define themselves in relationship men. When I hear such interviews, I find myself virtually crawling up a wall; it does not surprise me that other Lesbian women react in the same way.

At the same time, I have experienced a great deal of pain from the conduct of some Lesbians toward me as a transsexual. The dilemmas I face are almost identical to those faced by Lesbians in the feminist movement a few years ago. If I proclaim my transsexualism, I will be perceived as separating myself from my natively female Lesbian sisters; if I say nothing unless and until I am asked, I will be judged as hiding some vile secret.

Last year I became involved with a group of Lesbian anarchists; I was immediately accepted as myself, a very freaky Lesbian. Then, at the beginning of the next meeting, everyone froze toward me; I had become a "problem" to them, as Lesbians were a problem for straight feminists not so long ago. "Was it true?", they asked in so many words, as if this were the Fifties and I was rumored to be a former Communist. In the end I won at least temporary acceptance; but I did so by apologizing for rather than celebrating my struggle of 22 years to become the woman I felt was me.

On another occasion I was at a feminist bar, where I met a woman who did not know me but who had put down Lesbian transsexuals in general. We got along well; she related to me simply as a Lesbian woman (which I am), and I discovered that she also was a sensitive human being. Yet I was haunted by the feeling that if she knew my past she would probably have rejected me, even at the same time as felt that my past should be irrelevant.

It is like being Gay in a job situation where the boss does not know. You are not hiding it, you are just being your natural self; but you wonder how the boss would react if she/he knew. There is a strange closety tension about it all. Can I feel comfortable among other Lesbians who accept me as the real person I am, but would reject me if they knew how I got there?

At this point in time there are many transsexuals who would throw Lesbians to the patriarchal wolves as long as they could live in their desired submissive "feminine" roles; there are some Lesbians who would ignore or even trample over transsexuals if this served their neat and rigid "revolutionary" plans. I would like to explore why it is that transsexuals ignore or even ridicule Lesbians and vice versa, but first we must deal with some aspects of human sexuality which are often confused.

In discussions of both gayness and transsexualism, there are three concepts which often get tangled or confused. First, there is one's overall feeling of being female or male, which I will refer to as gender identity. Secondly, there is one's preference in forming intense love relationships for one or both sexes (or even for a compatible human being regardless of sex), which I will call sexual preference, although I might prefer the term "amatory" preference in order to stress the element of love whether or not it is genitally expressed (more on this later). Finally, there is one's conformity or defiance (or simple ignoring) of sex roles, the arbitrary sexist definitions of what is supposed to be "feminine" or "masculine."

To begin with, many confuse gender identity with sex roles; and such confusion makes it impossible to understand transsexualisin. Perhaps I can make the distinction clear by considering a situation which many natively female Lesbians experience.

A radical feminist may challenge all sex roles: she may joyously celebrate her "masculine" strengths: she may repudiate all patriarchal definitions of what it means to be a woman; yet she still feels that she is female, and that all women are her sisters. Let us refer to this total affirmative feeling as femaleness.

In contrast, the patriarchal system speaks of femininity; this means being submissive, being a sex object, and above all being attractive to men rather than to oneself or one's sisters. Thus radical feminism means celebrating femaleness (sisterhood, women's culture, etc.) in our own terms while rejecting all sex role barriers (e.g. accepting both sensitivity and strength while rejecting both submission and domination).

I have found that living as a woman full-time for the past 16 months, celebrating my femaleness, has made me much stronger and more "masculine" in many ways. Musically, I find myself belting out some very gutsy Blues which border on screaming; I find this one of the heaviest expressions of my femaleness and Lesbianism. Recently a gay male at a coffeehouse called me a diesel dyke; I thanked him for letting me know that I have character!

In other words, as radical feminists we feel a deep sense of being women and sisters, but this feeling is beyond any definition or stereotype. This is true of us whether we are natively female or transsexual. We all face the same paradoxes and dilemmas. Once this is understood, a lot of Lesbian/transsexual tension may suddenly vanish.

Sometimes feminists have asked me why, if I consider sex roles both unjust and ridiculous, do I not just live as a man and express both my "feminine" and my "masculine" qualities in that way? In doing this they are assuming that somehow I have chosen to be a woman so that I can be "feminine."

In fact, I have chosen to live as a woman simply because that is what I am, and because only by affirming my femaleness and sisterhood with all women can I be myself, strong and filled with energy as well as sensitive. How would these feminists feel about living as men? Obviously they would consider it a masquerade, and would demand their right to celebrate their femaleness. So do I.

Moving to another confusion which many Gay people have battled against, gender identity must not be confused with sexual preference. Lesbians (as opposed to female-to-male transsexuals) are not biological females who have a male gender identity: they are simply women who love other women. Gay men (as opposed to male-to-female transsexuals) are not biological males who have female gender identities, but are men who love men.

People who are trapped in the het trip often find it contradictory for me to be transsexual and Lesbian, because they assume that to be a woman is to love men and vice versa. Thus my parents alternately would suggest that the main reason I wanted the change was to relate in straight ways to men; or, they would argue that if I were going to relate to women, why do I need to be a woman myself. My parents are two of the best meaning straights I have met, but I guess that they are still a bit confused.

However, there is no reason that my situation need be confusing to Gay people. Regardless of my native genitals, I feel myself to be a woman who loves women, or simply a Lesbian. As I wrote above, I consider love between women to be a natural thing, whether the women are native or transsexual. The problem is that sometimes even Gay people apply het logic to transsexuals: and I would say that a great majority of male-to-female transsexuals apply het logic to themselves and everyone else. For example, I read an interview in which a transsexual defined Lesbians as "women who want to be men. If I had been at that interview. I would have had some interesting comments to make!

Finally, of course, sexual preference is different from any stereotyped adherence to sex roles. We all know that gay and straight people cannot be separated in general on the basis of sex role behavior: even more importantly, we are struggling to get totally away from the butch/femme trip. For me, being a Lesbian woman means being both strong and sensitive, for love requires both qualities.

Unfortunately, my sister Lesbians sometimes hold anti-transsexual attitudes. By anti-transsexual attitudes, I mean prejudices which would exclude from the Lesbian movement those transsexuals who are living full-time as women, and would exclude them for any reason which would not equally exclude their native sisters. Opposition to sexism in any people, including both transsexuals and Lesbians, is of course necessary! Anti-transsexualism does not refer to this kind of opposition. Rather it refers to prejudice and exclusion directed against transsexuals as a category.

Before analyzing the reasons for anti-transsexualism among Lesbians, I feel it necessary to challenge one argument against even raising this issue: unfortunately, it is an argument which has gained currency in the Gay/feminist press in Boston.

According to this argument, the discussion of transsexualism causes disagreement in the Lesbian movement; and, after all, how many Lesbian transsexuals are there? The conclusion is that the suffering of a few strange people can and should be put safely aside until "after the revolution.

Further, it is sometimes even argued that transsexuals must take the responsibility for this dissension among their native Lesbian sisters; to use the favorite macho-radical phrase, transsexuals "are objectively counter-revolutionary" because they are distracting their native sisters from much more important things. I have been given this argument not only in print but in person.

In the year 1862, a number of Blacks met with President Lincoln to demand emancipation of the slaves. Lincoln replied that the important thing was preserving the Union, with or without slavery. Further, he argued that the slaves and Black people generally, were responsible for the Civil War, since without them there would be nothing for white people to fight about!

In the early 1960's, during a peace march in the American South, it was argued that segregation should not be raised as an issue, since that would alienate the white population of the region from joining in the struggle against nuclear war. After the world was saved, some people argued, then Jim Crow could be tackled.

Later in that decade, when women first demanded their rights in the male-dominated Left movements, they were put down: after all, women did not constitute a class or oppressed group, according to the going macho ideological definitions.

Little things like feminism could be dealt with after the working class (or Third World or whatever) was liberated. Further, women who demanded their own freedom were accused of being counter-revolutionary, since they were causing division and conflict among their male comrades.

At about the same time, Gay people were also accused of being "bourgeois decadents;" furthermore, they were obviously capitalist agents who would even stoop so low as to challenge the revolutionary government of Cuba for a few minor imprisonments of homosexual perverts.

Last but not least, around 1969 and 1970 straight feminists attacked Lesbians for "dividing the movement" and for raising issues "irrelevant to the majority of women, irrelevant to the main focus of our movement." Betty Friedan went so far as to call Lesbians "the Lavender Menace," and to suggest that Lesbians were CIA agents sent to disrupt the respectable feminist movement.

Thus it is not surprising that transsexuals should be treated in the same way that Blacks, women, gay people, and Lesbians specifically have been treated, and all in the name of "revolution." We also note that whites, men, and straights find it easier to postpone other people's liberation in the name of radicalism than to confront their own prejudices now. All Lesbians (transsexual and native) should reject this logic of slavery and hypocrisy, and all transsexuals who respect themselves should challenge it aggressively and without hesitation or apology.

At the Congress to Unite Women in 1970, the straight feminists in charge blocked a workshop on Lesbianism. About 20 Lesbians staged a nonviolent takeover of the Congress, in which they humorously and effectively presented the justice of their cause. They demanded that women be united by supporting Lesbian liberation rather than by ignoring or denouncing it. The time has come to unite women regardless of native genitals, and to unite them by all nonviolent means necessary.

Now we come to the specific reasons for anti-transsexualism in the Lesbian community. Of course, one reason is the very genuine mood of anti-Lesbianism among many transsexuals. It is important that we as Lesbians, avoid the classic prejudicial practice of judging all the members of a group by the actions of some.

However, coming to the other reasons. we find that misinformation and outdated sexist attitudes are crucial. The causes are basically: 1. Misinformation about transsexualism; 2. Overly narrow concepts of Lesbianism; 3. Misguided notions of polarization in the Lesbian/feminist struggle; and 4. Clinging to patriarchal definitions of sex and gender.

(This is not the end. Look for more of Margo in future issues.)

And here's a close-up of the sidebar, transcribed in alt text:

[athetos]

Some thoughts from severance s2e3, and the season in general:

I 100% assumed the reason the goat people were asking to see their bellies was to see if they had belly buttons. Since the prevailing theory is that the goats are for cloning purposes, i figured they wanted to make sure they weren’t clones (clones not having belly buttons because they weren’t birthed/have need for an umbilical cord). If we take the pouches line at face value, I’d guess that they were told a rumor that MDR had pouches, to sow division and fear between the departments (like the fake uprising told to MDR about O&D, and vice versa).

The Export Floor. The fact that O&D used to deliver things there themselves, but then a courier was used. My theory is that someone saw something there they shouldn’t have. I don’t know how o!Irving knows about it, but I’m not here to discuss that right now. What I want to talk about is the name. The obvious one is exporting goods (or even ideas) to other countries, and this could simply mean it’s where stuff made by O&D gets sent up to the ‘outtie’ world. But there’s another possibility - export as in transferring data to another software/format. I think it’s this meaning that is critical, and has big implications for Gemma/Ms. Casey. They could be transferring the data MDR has refined to her chip, or in some way or another, working on “Cold Harbor.”

I am very firmly in the ‘that’s Helena’ camp now. I don’t think this is in character for Helly, as the extremely awkward conversation in the hall with Mark as well as telling Irving they ‘got him’ sealed it for me. I’m fairly certain that management knows it’s Helena; after all, they don’t activate her chip, although I won’t rule out she paid someone off/threatened them to do it. That said, I like to believe she compromised with the board to go down as herself, instead of as Helly. This would also mean that she can encourage Mark to go places that Lumon specifically wants him to see, instead of ones that are much more confidential. However, I think she’ll end up siding with the innies by the end, simply because the connections she will forge with them will be the only genuine and loving relationships in her life.

I didn’t mention this before, but i’m pretty sure Irving knows that Helena/Helly is lying, because he was the only innie who spent enough time outside to know that it was winter and she couldn’t have been gardening. He distrusts her, that’s why he only told Dylan about Burt.

Upon immediately seeing Dylan’s wife I assumed she was a hired actress. However it genuinely appears to be her (granted, I’m faceblind, but the voice sounded the same when she was with his outtie later in the episode). Lumon clearly thinks that this perk will keep i!Dylan in line, but I think it might backfire spectacularly, or at least cause significant drama - his wife is going to fall in love with his innie. Think about it, if their marriage is going through a rough patch, and she gets to spend time with a version of her husband who lacks all of the assumptions/grudges he has against her - basically starting all over… yeah, it’s gonna get strange. The way she talked about it to o!Dylan was like she was hiding it from him, almost like it’s the beginning of a potential affair…

(I also am still of the mind that either she or one of their children is terminally ill in some way, hence the benefits/insurance that Dylan is always looking after. He also complained a few times about having sore arms and jokes he works out. I feel this might be related somehow? But not sure…)

I stand by my theory that the board is actually the motherboard and is Kier’s (and his successors?) consciousness, or something of that ilk. The board was referred to as “it” in this episode (also “they”, but I believe that was meant as in plural, including Natalie). So I think we actually don’t have any proof that it’s multiple people or even people period. It will be like the export double meaning I mentioned earlier. Again, the board is hot on Mark staying and working because it wants him to finish Cold Harbor so it can begin the revival of Kier’s family (the rotation could potentially mean their minds being uploaded. Or something of that nature.)

No big theories or details to chew on here, but things that got big reactions from me: the Black Kier portraits I was expecting but still not prepared for. I desperately want to see Natalie’s portraits that she received; were they all biracial, all women, or both? The idea of genderbent biracial Kier family is killing me. This is like Hamilton (I think). Cobel definitely was going to die if she went into the building, she made the right call, I was terrified that her car might explode as she left. Phew. Next episode is going to be a roller coaster, I can tell. Shocked that he’s starting reintegration so soon but I’m here for it. Worried that Devon is going to get murdered. And I’m waiting for Cobel to get hunted down by Mark or for her to willingly seek him out as she realizes this is her only chance left to… do whatever the fuck it is she wants to do.

[stllmnstr]

signed, sealed, delivered

Another drabble from an anon prompt! Started with this:

And turned into poor commoner Jaeyun x rich princess oc in a historical kingdom (so different setting but I hope you still enjoyyyyy 🫡) ps I usually write his name as jake but kept it jaeyun here to match the ask!

pps again I wrote this on my phone and it somehow ended up at 3k AND it's 4 in the morning. that's what you call a triple whammy, folks. enjoy and please excuse any mistakes 😭

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Sim Jaeyun is turning twenty-two years old today. It’s an impressive feat, in a kingdom where making it to eighteen without succumbing to disease or illness or something more directly borne of war is becoming more and more rare.

But Jaeyun made it to eighteen. Four long years ago. And the years have only been adding up, surely, if not also incredibly slowly, since then.

The only reason he’s made it this far is because he’s smart. Not in the textbook kind of way. Jaeyun wasn’t born into a family important enough to be literate, so it’s nothing but a blessing that he’s as good with words as he is, considering that he can't read them.

It's mostly because he uses them so sparingly. After all, Jaeyun hasn’t made it twenty-two years by talking. He’s done it by keeping his head down and his mouth shut. Just like any good commoner.

He pays his taxes on time and only participates in illicit activities - namely, harvesting crops from one of the sixteen royal gardens - after the sun goes down. He wears average clothes and eats average meals and spends his days with other average people.

From a lot of angles, it’s uninspired. It’s hardly a life at all. But it’s his reality, and for the vast majority of the kingdom’s population, it’s their reality, too.

So Jaeyun, even on his twenty-second birthday, doesn’t have any grand plans. The only thing he wants to do is barter for enough flour and sugar in the marketplace, and maybe even some butter if the dairy farmer takes pity on him, to make himself something sweet over the fire tonight.

As he walks towards the town square, there’s a lightness in his step. Even with midday sun beating on his back and perspiration beginning to gather on his nape, he’s sure that today will be a perfectly ordinary day. In his mind, that alone is something to be immensely grateful for.

By the time he’s secured minuscule amounts of flour and sugar, his mood is still in high spirits. Even though the dairy farmer does not seem to be in an agreeable mood.

“I’ll bring you an extra bag of corn,” Jaeyun whispers conspiratorially over a stack of delectable looking cheeses. He doesn’t even spare them a glance. There’s no point, really. The grumpy old farmer still seems reluctant to give up a fraction of a stick of butter.

“What am I going to do with corn?” The man waves a dismissive hand at him. Jaeyun suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. At least the woman selling sugar had been susceptible to a little old-fashioned flirting. He has the distinct feeling the same tricks won’t work here.

“Potatoes, then.” Jaeyun has no idea where he’ll get potatoes. The royal groundskeepers have a tight leash on that particular crop, but he’s getting desperate.

That, at least, seems to catch the dairy farmer’s attention. Jaeyun’s gut is starting to twist a bit in dread at the prospect of making good on his promise, but the thought of having butter is already enough to make his mouth water.

Before he has the chance to find out if his offer was accepted, the sound of trumpets cuts through the clamor of the market like a knife.

Immediately, conversations cease. Identical flashes of panic flicker through a hundred sets of eyes.

Three sharp, short notes. A beat of silence, and then they’re repeated. It’s a pattern that every citizen knows well.

The announcement of a royal.

Which also means it’s Jaeyun’s cue to craft a stealthy exit. It’s not that he’s a wanted man, per se, but he’d rather not be on the list of people the royal guard are familiar with.

Turning quietly on his heel, he silently mourns the loss of his precious butter with a small pout. And then he bumps straight into Park Sunghoon.

He’s an acquaintance, more than a friend. But he’s also one of the people Jaeyun is closest to in this world.

“Woah,” Sunghoon raises an eyebrow when he notes the swiftness of Jaeyun’s escape attempt. “Didn’t you hear the trumpets?”

“I think everyone on this side of the border heard them,” Jake grumbles, not pleased to be stalled. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

Sunghoon just shrugs, stepping to the side to let him pass. But Jaeyun barely makes it three steps before he’s asking, “You’re not curious?”

Jaeyun pauses, eyes going towards the sky above him in exasperation. He’s not sure why Sunghoon always insists on speaking in riddles, and especially when he’s trying to be discreet.

Turning back to face him, he bites, “Curious about what?”

Sunghoon smirks. He has a piece of information that Jaeyun doesn’t. It’s a rare situation, and he’s planning to milk the hell out of it. “The princess,” he finally says. “Princess ___” He adds in a sing-song voice.

The space between Jaeyun’s eyebrows begins to crease. “What are you talking about?”

“Rumor has it that’s who’s coming right now. Our lovely, fearless, princess is about to be paraded through the marketplace.”

“You’re lying.” Jaeyun shakes his head. He’s sure of it. He doesn’t know much about the king that he supposedly serves, other than his penchant for stationing rather incompetent guards by the crop fields that grow corn, but he does know how he treats his children. Namely, his daughter.

His oldest son is actively being groomed to become the next king, of course. The second born has a nasty chip on his shoulder about it and tries to make up for it by training until he can defeat every last member of the military in hand-to-hand combat and outsmart them in strategy meetings.

And you. The youngest. The only girl.

Much like your mother, you’ve been relegated to little more than a prop. Rumors of your beauty have spread far and wide, but that’s the only thing you’re allowed to be known for. Your days are spent learning how to sit correctly, how to curtsy nicely, how to embroider with alarming precision. How to please others.

Jaeyun’s never lost too much sleep about it. After all, a life in the palace, even a suffocating one, is still a luxury. He doubts you’ve ever had to wonder where your next meal would come from. You probably have actual cake on your birthdays, not makeshift concoctions that would taste significantly better if only you had a bit of butter.

But Sunghoon is insistent. “It’s true. I heard it from Sunoo. You know, he’s friends with that boy that works at the palace.”

“Well then Sunoo’s lying too.” Jaeyun’s words are clipped. He doesn’t have long to slip away if he wants to be gone by the time the procession arrives. “She’s never been in public before.”

Locked up in a palace for your whole life. For a moment, Jaeyun almost feels sorry for you. There’s nothing he loves more than an open field, wide and endless, under a starlit sky.

Taking a step forward, Sunghoon shakes his head. His voice is low when he adds, “Apparently it’s her birthday today. That’s why she’s here. They want to show her off a bit.”

The shock fades quickly. It’s not that strange of a coincidence, Jaeyun supposes, that the two of you share a birthday.

Jaeyun shakes his head firmly. He hopes it conveys a sense of finality. “I’m not staying.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Suit yourself. But I know a spot with a great view.” He jerks his chin to the left. “Just over the butcher’s shop. An old abandoned attic that no one uses anymore.”

Jaeyun hates himself for hesitating. Mostly because that small window of uncertainty is all Sunghoon needs.

“Come on,” he urges. “No one will see you. I promise.”

And it’s not like Jaeyun has that much stake in all of this, but Sunghoon was right. He is curious.

What is it like, he wonders, as Sunghoon leads him up a hidden set of stairs to the attic he pointed to earlier, to live your life at the epicenter of a well-oiled machine?

Do you know? That people like him have to fight to survive? That making it to twenty-two is something remarkable? Do you care?

Jaeyun can’t imagine why you would.

Still, as the procession draws near, Jaeyun feels his heartbeat quicken with it. Until it matches the cadence of the horse hooves coming closer and closer.

Until finally, finally, he gets his first glimpse of the first real royal procession he’s stuck around for in years.

Until he gets his first glimpse of you.

You’re pretty, he’ll give you that, but the more he studies you, the stronger the strange flicker of… disappointment begins to swirl in his gut.

From your seat in the pristine carriage you ride in, your posture is impeccable and your wave towards the crowd is fit for royalty.

You look exactly like a princess. He’s not sure why he expected anything different.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, doesn’t seem so satisfied with the glimpses of you he gets from the attic window. Eyes still locked on your carriage, he says, “I’m going to get closer.”

“What?” Jaeyun hisses. It’s a bad idea. A terrible one, actually. And no matter how much Sunghoon annoys him, he doesn’t want to see the boy thrown in prison. Or worse, dead. “What do you mean, closer?”

But Sunghoon is already gone. Disappeared down the stairs that the two boys entered from only a handful of minutes ago. And now Jaeyun is alone.

Sliding an open palm down his face, he watches as your carriage fades from his limited view. Flour and sugar still in his pocket, he’ll have to wait now. At least an hour, probably, before the coast is clear enough to return home. He just prays Sunghoon manages not to do something too stupid before then.

Maybe he does have a bit of birthday luck, after all. A few moments later, he hears footsteps on the stairs again.

“You finally saw sense,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I tried to tell you that a closer look at some girl isn’t worth risking your life for.”

But Sunghoon doesn’t respond. Eyes rolling, Jaeyun assumes that he must not have found a better view and is deciding to sulk about it now. Fully prepared to rub salt in the wound. Jaeyun turns around fully.

But he was wrong. It’s not Sunghoon that he’s looking at. Or at least, he doesn’t think it is.

The figure who stands motionless at the top of the stairs is covered in a dark, shapeless cloak that extends all the way to the floor and has a hood that fully conceals its wearer’s face.

It’s also at least a head shorter than his friend.

Still, Jaeyun can’t help but hope. “Sunghoon?”

As if suddenly remembering themselves, the figure spins on their heel, turning back the way they came.

A thick sense of unease is building in Jaeyun’s gut. He has no idea who this stranger is, but it’s not Sunghoon. Quickly, awful scenarios begin to plague his mind.

What if it’s a spy? He wonders. A member of the royal guard. Someone here to report him for trespassing, if not one of his worse crimes.

Jaeyun can’t let that happen. Not when he’s made it this far. With all of his reflexes locking into gear, he lunges forward. His long fingers encircle the stranger’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

Still, they try to shake him. And for a moment, they’re successful. The wrist in his hand slips from his grip. But Jaeyun doubles down.

This time, he’s less hesitant. When he reaches for the figure, he grabs them by the waist instead. The struggle is noble, but brief.

In the span of a single heartbeat, Jaeyun has the cloaked stranger pinned beneath him on the attic floor, his knees encircling their rib cage as his hands pin both arms above their head.

Chest heaving, Jaeyun assesses the sight beneath him. In the struggle, the stranger’s hood has fallen loose, revealing a striking set of features.

And hair. Lots of it.

“You’re a girl,” Jaeyun’s breathes, just at the same time a devastatingly feminine voice accuses,

“You.”

“Me?” Jaeyun frowns. He’s never seen you before. Of that, at least, he’s positive. He would have remembered a face like yours.

Delicate and feminine and pretty in all the ways that make his mind spin, you’re a vision beneath him. One that almost has him forgetting the severity of the situation.

That is, until you lay another scathing accusation at his feet. “The corn thief.”

“Corn thief?” Warning bells are starting to sound in Jaeyun’s mind again. He’s been seen. He’s been caught. “You do work for the palace.”

Still on your back between his knees, your hands pinned above your head, your gaze is discerning. With rather flat intonation, you state, “We’re all citizens of the crown, are we not? We all serve the king.”

“Sure,” Jaeyun concedes, “but you actually work for them.” The reality of the situation, the severity of jt, is not lost on him. “You’ll report me to your superior and have me thrown in jail.” Or worse.

The only acknowledgement you give is a slightly raised eyebrow. Jaeyun hates himself a little for thinking that it makes you even prettier. “You make a lot of assumptions don’t you?”

“Are you new here?” He retorts. Sarcasm embeds itself into every word. “That’s kind of how things work.”

For a moment, you just look at him. Even though he’s above you, even though your arms are still firmly within his grip, Jaeyun has to fight the urge to squirm under your gaze. And then you sigh. “I’m not going to report you.” Sending a meaningful look towards his hands above your head, you ask, “Could you get off of me now?”

It’s probably stupid, the way he obeys your command so quickly. But there’s something in your voice, something that rings with authority. He’s scrambling off of you with a speed that’s almost comical.

You are slower to rise, rubbing at your freed wrists while you draw yourself to full height. Looking at you like this, Jaeyun almost thinks that he must have hit his head in the scuffle.

You’re not just pretty. You’re gorgeous. Disarmingly so. Jaeyun would be the first to admit that he hasn’t spent much time around girls, that he doesn’t have much to compare you to, but he’s still certain you’re in possession of a rare kind of beauty. Or, at least, one tailored specifically for him.

Despite his sudden fixation, your last words still ring in his mind. I’m not going to report you.

“You’re not?” He’s hesitant to believe it.

“No, I…” you trail off for a moment, unsure how to phrase your desire. “I want to help you, actually.”

He really must be concussed. “You want to help me?”

“I mean, not you specifically.” Looking around the attic, you seem to be talking to yourself more than him when you mutter, “Ugh. Jungwon swore this room would be empty.”

Still, Jake hears you. And he’s stuck on one word. Jungwon. It sounds so familiar. But why? Why does he know that name?

It takes him another minute of wracking his brain, but he does eventually locate the source of the familiarity. Sunoo. Jungwon is the name of Sunoo’s friend who works at the…

At the palace.

It’s not like he’s surprised that you’re closely associated with the royals, but based on what Sunoo gossips about with Sunghoon, Jungwon works rather closely with the royal family themselves. With the princess.

For a moment, all Jaeyun can do is stare at you. And then he asks, “Who are you?”

Your smile is wry, and it doesn’t reach your eyes. But your curtsy is perfect, even if you’re mocking him. “Princess ___. It’s a pleasure.”

Jaeyun rolls his eyes. How stupid do you think he is? He may just be a commoner, but he’s not an idiot. “Does that actually work on people? You know, the whole town just saw her ride by in a carriage. Literally less than ten minutes ago. And you,” Jaeyun makes quick work of scanning you head to toe, “are not her.”

“The whole town just saw Karina ride by in a carriage,” you correct.

Jaeyun frowns. “Who’s Karina?”

“My favorite handmaiden.”

Again, all Jaeyun can do is look at you. His jaw opens. Closes again. He has the distinct feeling he looks rather similar to the fish laid out on ice in the market beneath you. “You… you’re actually the princess.”

“Like I said,” you don’t bother to curtsy fully this time, just nod in a small bow, “it’s a pleasure. It’s actually kind of lucky that I ran into you here.” Jaeyun watches as your demeanor shifts, sarcasm turning to something far more serious. “So, corn thief, what can you tell me about the patrols they run near the corn crop fields?”

“Why?” Jaeyun doesn’t bother to mask his suspicion. “So you can reinforce them? Or apprehend me next time?”

“No,” you counter, “so I can pass the information along.”

It’s far too vague for his liking. “To…”

You look at him for a moment, as if deciding how much or your trust you’re willing to place in him, too. Finally, you say, “To people who might need it.”

Before he can press you further or ask what that means, Jaeyun hears the sound of trumpets again. A slightly different three note pattern than before.

“Shit…” You curse under your breath, Jaeyun hates the way it makes him feel hot beneath his clothes. “I have to go,” you tell him. “You know the old oak tree? The one near the mouth of the river?”

Jaeyun nods, suddenly distrustful of his voice.

“I’ll leave you a note there.” You’re already pulling your hood up over your head again, wrapping the cloak back around your body. “Check it tomorrow after midnight. It will tell you when and where to meet me.”

Jaeyun frowns. “But I—”

“What’s your name?” you interrupt. “I can’t call you corn thief forever.”

“Jaeyun,” he tells you after a beat. “Sim Jaeyun. But wait, I—”

“Tomorrow,” you reiterate, looking at him one last time. “After midnight.”

“But—” Jaeyun tries to protest one final time. It’s no use. You're already gone.

Out loud to an empty attic, Sim Jaeyun finally admits, “But I can’t read.”

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STOPPP I'm kind of obsessed with them......

send me an idea for a drabble!

[tarotoftheendless]

Hey, Sand Fam, I am seeing a lot of you blaming NG for the end of this series, and whereas I do think Netflix and the Sandman cast and crew are actively distancing themselves now from NG, I don't think NG is the reason Sandman is ending.

Please remember it took forever for Netflix to greenlight us even getting more or the series. They were likely going to axe it in the first place but the showrunners likely negotiated saying they had plans for a script that would end the series and *THAT* is likely what got us just one more season. That is speculation, that is a guess, but if you logically look at how S2 was handled from the start, then the end of the series was always the plan. Didn't they also call it Sandman 2 and say we are just getting more episodes here and there at the beginning of when S2 was first announced? Like it wasn't even called Season 2...

Also, with the leaked bts photos, of Lyta, the Fates and Gilbert... isn't that all stuff that is end of the comic series stuff that got filmed? And when those photos came out, I don't remember the exact date, but wasn't it just before the NG stuff came out and or literally just after it? Do you think they scrambled to write a quick script, get a location that quickly and get costumes and all that cuz they were all "Oh no, NG is a fucking creep, better end the show now"? No. Filming anything in general takes time and careful planning. It was always the plan guys.

The thing that likely did get affected by NG is how Geeked Week was handled. The bts footage and such was edited in a way to not mention NG at all. I do think that was on purpose.

The other reason I think ending the show was planned is because S2 has to do with Dream's story and his story alone. Writing a whole script like that takes time and planning. And why I think it was always the plan is because of interviews of Tom Sturridge for S1. He was abhorrent to the idea of The Sandman being only about Dream, and the idea of a movie because, if I remember Tom correctly, "how can you take just one story from The Sandman and make a film about that? The Sandman is a story about stories, not just one guy." Not the exact quote, but you get my point. S2 was always supposed to be the end because they scrapped the whole idea of making it a story about stories and wrote a *WHOLE SEASON OF A SCRIPT* about Dream instead. That was planned.

The end was always the plan. NG is not to blame for this.

The actors and crew now have room to work on bigger and better projects and The Sandman is on their resume, and regardless of NG, that will still look good for them because obviously they are not NG and they did not condone what NG did, so they will not and should not be found culpable for NG's actions at all, therefore will find bigger and better work in the future.

This is not the end of the world, this is the Death card in tarot; something must die for something new and better to be born.

The Fandom lives, the Sand Fam thrives, we are taking back the power of the work from NG and making it beautiful for us and us alone. Don't forget that. This is for us. This is will never be for NG ever again.

My ending thought is this: One of my favorite things about Star Wars: The Last Jedi is Luke's conversation with Yoda. (No, I will not be having debates about how good or bad the film is...) And Yoda talks about the lesson of failure is the greatest lesson to learn and to pass on. Not to ensure the failure of others but to teach them how to handle failure and how to grow past the failure. The last thing Yoda says to Luke that gets me to tear up every time is this; "We are what they grow beyond". And that is where I am taking my love for The Sandman and this whole Fandom. We have grown beyond NG and it is ours now. We have grown beyond him, take comfort in that.

[themioka]

Shaw pack head cannons. I have pt2

Marie took up healing magic so that pack members wouldn't have to spend money to go to a healer after getting injured or sick. It wa her way of showing gratitude towards her pack for what they'd done for her and Milo.

Colm wanted Milo to work for the department, going so far to try and steer Milo in the direction of doing so. However, Milo was quick to catch on what Colm was doing, and the two broke out into a massive argument about it.

Asher's parents always felt guilty for leaving Asher behind in pursuit of traveling around the world. While yes he's an adult, and had the support of his packmates, unlike his sister who they where present for the majority of her life up until she moved with her husband back to his pack and hometown. They immediately left the moment Asher could legally care for himself. Asher didn't blame them, nor did he hold any kind of grudge against them. He just kinda wished they stuck around longer before they up and left.

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Milo has a sleeper build body, and it drives Sweetheart wild whenever he decides to flex just to get a rise out of them. He gets a huge ego boost out of it every time, too.

Milo is the very much, I love to stay /hang out more but I have to go check on my cat and make sure he's doing okay and that he gets fed, etc, kind of person.

Whenever Milo is coming home from a rough or stressful job, he'll just pick up Aggro and Sweetheart, before heading to the bedroom to snuggle with the two, gaining a few cheek/forehead kisses from Sweetheart before all three fall asleep in each other embrace.

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One time, Sweetheart spooked Milo into shifting out of fear, and they've never felt so bad in their life until now. Just immediately pulled Milo's wolf into a tight hug as they apologized to Milo, their hand instinctively running through his fur as they kept hugging him til Milo slowly shifted back. They managed to get a laugh about the whole thing, but it took a bit of convincing from Milo that he was absolutely fine from the whole thing.

Whenever Sweetheart is experiencing a panic attack or feels an oncoming attack, Milo's either away on a job or hanging out with the pack members. They'll go to hide in their shared closet until it passes, unaware that Aggro is following them until Aggro is crawling into their lap and begins nuzzling Sweetheart, making biscuits on their lap, or making "conversation" by constantly meowing at Sweetheart. Manging to calm down, Sweetheart will thank Aggro before carrying him to the bed to take a small nap with him. Only to wake up to Milo petting their head as he lays across from them, and Aggro curled up between them, purring loudly.

Sweetheart, who'll make sure everything is up to code on Quinn's security/containment, double checking and ensuring the man doesn't even have a chance at escaping. Sending a list of details and updates of what they've gathered to the pack group chat at the end of their shfit before heading home.

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Darlin struggles to break their terrible habit of hiding bruises, cuts, etc. They won't even acknowledge whatever cut or bruises they have until someone points it out. Sometimes getting a bit defensive about the whole thing, as they're still not used to the idea of relying or asking for help from others.

Darlin swears they're not a good teacher, that they don't know or can't teach, and on top of it, someone who isn't an exact role model. Yet, can't say no whenever one of the younger pack members come to them on help on either learning on how to fight in their wolf form, getting better a shifting, etc.

Darlin is covered in various scars, small, big, either faint or not, depending on how old they are, either visible from afar others you can't really see unless you're up close.

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Whenever Sam joins in on pack runs, the others even David will try and race against him, and he'll indulge in their antics, pretending to slow down and acting a bit tired before blowing past them with ease.

Has gotten caught up in their spins out though it typically gets a chuckle out of him, because they always end up in a tangled mess, and he's trying to get them to hold still while he untangled them rather than having them wiggle around as they untangle themselves from each other limbs.

Sam will give Darlin a few words of encouragement whenever they're struggling to interact with the pack. He is struggling to hide the look of pride on his face whenever Darlin does it without help.

Sam, who's made to sit separately from Darlin during pack movie nights by Asher, because the two always end up falling asleep, not even halfway through the movie. Asher's attempts fail though because the two just "magically" find themselves right next to each other a few minutes later and are vast asleep, Sam having a tight yet gentle grip around Darlin's waist keeping them close and tight against him.

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David used to be in between a heavy sleeper and a light sleeper. However, after the inversion, he became an extremely light sleeper at the time, practically waking up to the sound of the blanket moving. He's gotten a bit better over time, but every now and then, he'll be awoken by the tiniest of noise.

Saw someone say that Darlin possibly has a limp due from the fights they've been in, 100% agree on it, yet overtime Darlin has learned how to adapt and normally functional with it, almost as if they've never had it. But given their age, they sometimes struggle to keep up on pack runs, so David will act as support and stick by them as they run together.

David gets dragged into the little playful scuffles that are mostly started by Asher, though he acts a bit annoyed by it. You can tell he enjoys these kinds of things that allow him to act like a kid/teen again. He'll sometimes switch up on sides every now and then or just team up on Asher with Milo and Darlin, ignoring Asher complaints that 3v1 is unfair.

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Angel will help David in looking for places that are suitable for Sam, of anything they can possibly bring with them if the place they're going to doesn't have much or doesn't offer any kind of shade, just to ensure Sam doesn't miss out on anything even if he claims he does mind being exclude from a few things.

(Both David and Angel won't allow it)

Whenever Angel manages to get David to lie on top of them, they'd usually have to hold onto him to get him to stay because he'll only lay on them for a few minutes, before trying to move, because he believes they'll end up hurt if he stays on top of them longer than usual.

Angel enjoys poking David's sides as they love getting a reaction out of him. Sometimes, David will pull them close to him in a tight embrace, growling in their ear for them to stop, or he'll punish them later for their behavior.

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You know those people who always have their arm around or hands on the person shoulders they're standing right next to because it feels weird if they don't or like have no idea what to do with their limbs in general. And on top of it, they give that little shoulder side pat or do that little shake when they get excited or happy about it. That's Asher, and it doesn't matter who it is, Babe, David, basically anyone who's close in range, Asher automatically has an arm slung over them or a hand on their shoulder.

Asher is very popular with kids since he's down to play with them whenever they invite/nag him to come play with them. Answers their questions with a silly response before going on to ask them questions that typically get a laugh out of them. Gets a laugh at pretending to scare the absolute crap out of their parents whenever he pretends he's dropped the kid whenever holding them. 100%, the one who starts tickle fights among the children. It's not uncommon for him to be the children jungle gym. On top of it, he'll be having a conversation with someone while it's happening and is 100% unphased by it.

Asher who'll jump onto one of the packmates back in a surprise greeting, the other typically being able to support the sudden weight but every now and then, it's enough to send both of them to the floor.

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Babe frequently smacks Asher's hand away whenever they're eating in or out, because no matter how much of their food they give Asher, it seems he's always coming back for more but at this point it's 50/50 for either more food or loving the reaction he's getting out of Babe.

Babe loves getting a rise out of Asher whenever they're over at Milo's and Sweetheart's place and just start loving on Aggro while Asher is whining at them. Milo often joins in, telling Babe how they should get a cat and telling them the perks about owning one, Babe acting all interested in what Milo's telling them all while "ignoring" Asher who's clinging onto them and whining on how they don't need a cat as they have him who is in his words much cooler than a cat.

Every now and then, whenever they're eating in or out, Babe will pretend they're full and offer the rest of their food to Asher, who's been eyeballing their plate after finishing his food.

[lady-z-writes]

Franky x reader

@lofaewrites - I'm screaming. This crush is embarrassing- sos!

Cw: 18+, pure spice, afab reader, oral (both receiving), sex, hair pulling, light fluff at the end.

Inspired by this:

When he whispers against your neck, "can I be yours in the morning?" a shiver overcomes you.

You'd been doing this...fling...for weeks now.

The crew completely unaware, as Franky was a night owl and once you stumbled his way one night, you never looked back.

His company, his humor, his whole vibe was what got you.

And now you craved time with him.

It started as something innocent, just company keeping in the early hours of morning when the sea was eerily quiet and your mind made up all kinds of enemies emerging from the dark.

Franky oh-so-kindly offered to sweep you off deck, bring you into his workshop, "lemme teach you a thing or two."

He'd meant building things, you knew this. Yet, your mind wandered.

'Using your hands' meant building.

Not admiring his body. Not tracing your fingertips up his forearms and to his chest.

You'd asked first, of course.

And when he gave you an, "uhhh sure?" It had been so hesitant.

But you found him fascinating.

And when he felt you touching him, you noticed him hold his breath.

"Keep touching like that, sweet thing, I'll be getting the wrong idea."

Your eyes met.

A beat passed.

You raised a brow.

He smirked.

"Ah, I see. It's like that, then."

And he dipped down to kiss you.

Sweet, hesitant at first, but once you leaned into him, his kisses were more passionate.

He scoops you up easily, holds you against him, then backs down into the chair at his desk.

You're flustered, hesitant, unsure of yourself as he holds you steady.

"I'm so sorry," you press your palms to his chest. "I shouldn't have-...I...I can..."

You feel yourself heating up, embarrassed to find yourself in this position with him.

"You can go, if you want," his hands rest behind his head. "If I had a choice, you'd stay." And you're so sat. "Considering you're still touching me, I'll take that as my answer."

You slip your palms off him, gnaw at your lower lip.

"Sorry."

"You don't have to stop," he speaks quietly to you. "Feels nice being touched," his voice trails off but you hear him finish with, "by you."

A chill runs through you.

"Where can I touch?"

He lets out a low hum. "Where do you want to touch?"

"Everywhere," the answer comes out before you filter it through your anxious mind.

Franky is humored and a little turned on.

So begins your wandering hands.

He's got his fists clenched behind him, trying to let you explore, but it's killing him not touching you too.

Had he ever felt like this? Like someone was worshiping him?

He finds his head lolling back at the calm that's settled between you two, at how you're almost massaging his skin as you travel down.

And then it all halts. He snaps his head forward, sunglasses falling from his head to his nose, where he stares over the frames. His attention on you, eyes wide as he spots you on your knees between his legs.

He's hard.

He's been hard.

"May I?" you ask, hands returning to his thighs.

He raises his glasses again.

And so starts this whole...thing.

Er...kind of.

It didn't help that Usopp happened to be awake at the time and ends up knocking on the door shortly after you had your mouth full.

Surely didn't help that he shoved a crate of blueprints beside the desk to hide you as he urged you under.

You barely kept it together as Usopp descended the steps, chatting about a new invention he wanted Franky's help on.

The conversation was more frantic than normal, but Franky played it cool - as always.

"Yeah, sure, bro, I can help you in the morning. These late nights are gonna be the death of me."

"It's that late?! I haven't been out of my factory since dinner!" suddenly Usopp's footsteps are heard retreating as he yelps out a, "thanks!"

Seconds pass before the chair is shoved back and Franky eyes you from your position on the floor.

He gives you a long look before hoisting you up and setting you back on the drawing desk.

"Come here."

His kisses are hurried, passionate, longing.

"Oh, man, if I don't feel you soon, I might combust," he huffs out against your lips.

"Now would be good, then," you laugh, let him remove your top, feel his soft kisses across your chest before he dips a finger lower between your bodies, plays with your clit.

You're unraveling against him, begging for more, which he gives you.

He makes quick work of ripping your panties and pants, pulling himself out of his swimsuit, and stroking his length along your wetness.

The ringing in your ears intensifies as he takes his time easing inside of you, careful not to hurt you.

You figured he'd be a gentle lover. Yes, you'd pictured it before this meeting. A crush had formed shortly after he joined the crew.

"All good?" He hums against your ear.

All you can do is nod, grip his open shirt, and moan against his chest as he starts a rhythm.

His big hands holding you close, helping you along, you feel yourself let go of all the uncertainty.

It's freeing.

He says he won't last long, keeps apologizing mid-kiss, but he manages to get you off once before he's stuttering to pull out and spill all over the floor.

His head bowed, you lift his chin with your open hand, pull him into you again, shivering into another needy kiss.

He's shouldering off his shirt, draping it over you as you run your fingers through his hair.

When you're steady on your feet again, he's cleaned up his floor, eyeing you from the ground this time, half hard when he sees you buttoned up in his shirt, ripped panties on the desk.

A hungry look crosses his face as he sits you in the chair this time, spreads your knees apart, and kisses up your thighs.

It's tantalizing what his tongue can do.

"Sorry, I'm starving " he jokes, then returns to his work.

He listens to every noise you make - from the soft moans to the breathy inhales. It urges him on when you pull his hair, guide him in further.

When he gets you off with just his mouth, his deep chuckle makes goosebumps cover your skin.

It's late...er...early by the time you two are done that first night together.

He wants you in his bed, but won't risk the others noticing.

The second night feels like a reunion and he'd found himself so damn eager for it all day.

The third time, he happens to meet you in the bathhouse for a steamy bath.

And on and on the nights go. He's exhausted but so content.

It's fun, this little secret. The hiding it from the crew adds to it, in your mind.

You enjoy the little glances over breakfast, or the soft touches if you pass each other on deck.

So when he mutters, "can I be yours in the morning?"

You're so caught up in him, so consumed, you can't say no.

That next morning, the shirt you'd stolen from him looks good over your bikini.

You descend the stairs of Sunny, softly smiling at the stares from Nami and Usopp.

Some of the guys are in the kitchen and you're dying for a cup of coffee.

Sanji's eager to serve you, his attention first drawn to the bikini top. At second glance, he spots Franky's shirt.

"Hey, is that...-"

Before he can finish the thought, he watches you slide onto Franky's lap, sipping your coffee before his big arms surround you.

"No fair!!" Sanji's cry is heard on deck.

"It's super, isn't it?" Franky chuckles.

A soft kiss on your cheek, you can't help but laugh at the happiness that's found you.

[tootoomanycats]

Just Deserts

(Post Rumbling Levi x Reader slow burn)

Chapter One- It's Snowing

Pairing:

Levi x Reader Slow Burn (eventual smut)

Word Count: 2,119

If you prefer to read on AO3 its HERE Summary: Two years after the rumbling has ended, the citizens of Paradis Island are beginning to enter a new era of peace. With trade routes open around the world now, more and more foreigners are arriving on the island. In a small town built on the island's docks, Levi has opened a tea shop. Humanity's strongest hero, now turned shop owner, has become a stickler for his daily routines. He wakes up, serves tea to the townsfolk, tends to his small garden, and then walks back upstairs to sleep, only to do it all over again the next day. It's a simple life—one he's never had before. After landing on the island's shores, following a hasty exit from home, you find yourself starting from square one. Over the next few months, you make friends with the locals and begin to build a new life for yourself. One day leads to the next, and somehow, you find yourself holding the deed to an empty storefront. Its windows face directly across from the local tea shop and its brooding owner. From your first meeting, neither of you could stand the other. In the months that follow the opening of your shop, a mutual frustration develops regarding your feelings for each other. What began as annoyance slowly transforms into a friendship, and both of you become nervous that it could be something more. Can Levi overcome his past and allow someone in again? Can you heal from heartbreak to have a chance at something real and honest? Or will you both settle for the courtesies of friendship, forever denying the desire for something deeper?

Warnings:

Minor mentions of blood.

Descriptions of chronic pain.

Mentions of a cheating partner.

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone! Holy shit, two chapters in one week? Nobody tell my cardiologist how much caffeine I’ve had this week- I don’t want to get in trouble. This is a story I’ve been sitting on my hands for almost a year now. I had made the original idea for this fic HERE. I ended up outlining some of it, and then, due to stress, moving, and tons of health issues, I forgot about it until two a.m. last night- when my sleeping meds were fighting with the caffeine I did not drink.

(it might have been three yerba cans, might not; you don't have proof!)

This one’s gonna be a slow burn, and it's gonna be funny. I want to put a lot of humor into this one.

As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks. Have you watered your smut provider today?

Two Years After The Rumbling

Glancing to the worn side table where a small square-faced alarm clock sat, a groan wracked his chest.

Two needle-like arms sat at 4:45 AM.

An hour before it was set to go off.

The smaller needle twitched back once before going forward two extra ticks; still need to fix that.

Four hours of fitful rest before being dragged back to the waking world. Last night's storm seemed hellbent on bringing powerful snow squalls. Accompanied by an atmospheric presser change that had his body vehemently protesting the whole night.

Freezing days like this had every past wound, affliction, and defacement his body had sustained roaring, unable to be ignored, and only allowing short and broken stints of rest.

If you could even call it that.

A slow blink brought focus to the ceiling. The aged variegation and cracks had been memorized in the last hour. Levi was lying awake in bed, his mind trying to pull what little motivation it could to sit up.

A groan filled his chest before he even started to move. Turning slowly to the right side, his right leg bent against the mattress. He then pushed his left hand down into the firm padding, using the leverage to sit up in bed.

Every movement was carefully debated, anything to avoid more discomfort than was already felt. Just sitting upright used more energy than he wanted to acknowledge.

Pulsing heat wound like barbed wire in his left shin, wrapping up the limb and pushing its pinpricked needles under the nerves of the patella. The joint inflammation, no doubt, had also caused swelling.

Shuddering a breath, Levi brought his right hand into view. There were rounded nodes where the index and middle fingers should be, both tingling and numb from the bout-filled night.

Minutes passed before trying to stand, only to feel a sharp sensation shoot up his left leg. With a grunt, he stumbled back onto the bed and begrudgingly glared at the walking cane leaning against the wall.

Another sigh.

The storm had passed over at some point, leaving a gray-skied morning in its wake. Snow blanketed everywhere that could be seen out of the window. It was going to be interesting going down the stairs of his apartment today. The steps already were becoming slick from moss, and now this added to the issue.

A shower, a very hot shower, would hopefully help this pain in the ass morning get off to a better start.

With a cane hooked over his forearm, Levi locked his apartment door before turning to face the narrow flight of stairs that stood between him and his goal.

With a grimace and half-shuffled step from the platform, his knee ached in protest as it bent to then hop down to the first step of many, only for his foot to slip on ice that had been hidden under snow.

The grip on the banister's railing was the only thing that kept him from sliding down the rest of the way. His thumb reached around to touch his ring and pinkie finger with its hold.

The opposite hand pressed down on the metal head of his cane, putting leverage onto the next step below before fixing his stance and trying to do better with the next hop. The same problem repeated, and his rear end landed harshly onto the freezing wood.

He refused to move out of pure spite at first. But with his body heat melting the snow and turning it into a puddle, the wet spot growing on his backside was not something he wanted to explain.

Glaringly, his eye scanned the street below, even glancing into his neighbors’ windows to make sure no one would see as he began scooting down each step, one at a time.

Seventeen steps later, and one very soaked bottom, saw Levi standing with a grumbling huff before turning the corner to the front of his tea shop.

“What a shit morning.” _______________________________________

“It’s snowing…”

How…

How did you get here?

Standing on a busy dock.

In a tattered wedding dress.

On an island, you had never set foot on before.

The sensation of something in your right hand made you look down at what it held. An obscenely large wad of money was neatly wrapped, held in place by a rubber band.

Oh, that’s right.

You were supposed to be getting married, right now.

Great Aunt Gertrude gave you the funds when you were zipped into the white gown this morning.

She had said something about, ugh, what was it she said?

“Just in case you change your mind.”

She had always been one to be blunt and to the point, which especially rang true for how useless she found your fiancé to be. To be fair, she wasn't wrong.

When she handed you the money, your best friend entered the dressing room to announce that your fiancée was missing. Everyone at the wedding party had been looking for him for over an hour.

It was understandable how worried you had been—what if he had been kidnapped or worse?

But nothing could have prepared you when you did find him, nothing.

It was by pure chance that you had heard the odd noises coming from the cleaning closet. When you opened the door, there was your fiancé; pants dropped down to his ankles as he pathetically thrust into another woman.

That moment felt as if it had lasted forever and simultaneously ended in a second. No one said anything, and all three of you were frozen in shock—them at being caught and you processing what you just saw.

The door had closed slowly with an ear-scratching creak. You may not remember much from that moment on, but you remember locking the door on them. No doubt forcing another person in the wedding party to find them together much later.

But you were already long gone by then.

And now you were here, where ever here was.

You watched as people walked by you, giving strange looks as you stood in the middle of the docks. It can't be blamed for the townsfolk gawking and looking away awkwardly at the sight of you. It was clear that whatever you had just been through was messy and held heft in its experience.

“Miss?”

Your body flinched at someone touching your arm gently. Turning, you look down to see a woman with a concerned expression. She stood barely at your chest, curly graying hair held back with a hand-knitted headband.

She spoke again. “Are you alright, love?”

You couldn't respond, mouth and throat refusing to make a noise as you stared at her blankly. The woman was of short and round stature, with small freckles covering her face.

And those green eyes, filled with concern. She took a moment to give you a once over before gently reaching, placing a hand at the small of your back, the other barely putting pressure on your upper arm as she started to walk and guide you.

“How about we get you out of the cold and warmed up hm?” You could not place her accent, but the tone was comforting. The kind someone uses when coaxing an injured animal.

As the woman guided across the icy cobblestoned road to a small Pub, your body was on autopilot. Once inside, the warped wooden floors creaked with each step. She pulled a chair for you to sit next to the roaring fireplace, telling you to stay there and warm up while she went and got some tea.

You didn't realize you had been cold until the warmth of the fire started to spread from your knee's up to your chest. Goosebumps cover your skin painfully, as shivers start small before growing into full body tremors, increasing to the point your teeth feel like they are going to chatter out of your jaw bones.

The heat started to bring you back to your body, painfully cold and sore, all weighing into the muscles. Exhaustion started to wallop you. Between the emotional shock, the running, and the freezing temperatures, it was no wonder you felt like you could have fallen asleep sitting up in that chair.

When your head bounced for a second time, fighting to stay awake, the woman from earlier returned to your side, holding a mug of hot tea for you.

“Poor thing, trembling like a leaf in the wind.”

When your hands first grasped the mug, you almost dropped it.

The warmth of the porcelain stinging against the sensitivity of your almost hypothermic skin. Wincing through the initial pain, you held the mug close to your chest as the woman draped the shawl she wore around your shoulders, its fibers already warmed from her body heat.

The sound of wood being scrapped against filled the empty PUB as she dragged a chair for herself, sitting in front of you. Again, you were at the mercy of your body as you could only stare at her. The fires light a stark contrast to the dark greyness that was outside. The window behind her showed snow had started falling in thick squalls.

No wonder you were freezing.

Looking from the window back to the woman, you found her pulling out a small pipe and filling it with a smoking mix from a leather pouch.

Both of you sat in silence, watching her pack and light the mixture before inhaling deeply and exhaling a stream of smoke into the air. She turned to look at you again, a sympathetic smile on the corner of her lips.

“Is there someone I can send word to for you? Family, friends?”

You looked into the mug as faces of wedding guests flashed before your mind's eye; clenching brows and lids shut, you gently shook your head and whispered, voice hoarse.

“No.”

A soft hum came from the woman’s chest as she nodded before looking back at the fire.

“If you would like, I can take you home. Where do you live?”

You fought the tremble that tried to start in your bottom lip; shaking your head again, you whispered back.

“I-I can’t go back there.”

Silence fell between the both of you again. Slowly, careful not to spill the mug’s contents as your fingers still tingled to life, you took a first sip. Your eyes closed as its warmth ran down from your throat.

Realization of how thirsty you were pushed to the front as you began taking larger swallows. Once its contents were empty, it was placed on the small table next to you. Body curling on itself as you scooted closer to the fire’s glow. Try as you might, but it was hard to think of or feel anything.

“Well, if you don’t have a place to stay, you shouldn't go out in this weather. I’ll make up one of the rooms for ya.” Before you had the chance to protest, she shook her head with a warm smile as she tapped her pipe to ash it into the fireplace. “No fuss now. I’m the owner of the INN, and my husband Frank is the owner of the PUB. We take pride in looking after folks, especially those needing it.”

When you had tried to offer money to pay for her kindness, she scoffed and began filling a large copper tub with hot water, refusing to even look at the cash in your outstretched hand.

“Now. I’ll bring you some clean clothes and some food. You get some rest; no one will bother you until it’s time for breakfast. But just in case you don’t want to be alone, I’ll be just downstairs.”

“Thank you, misses…?

“Meyer, Martha Meyer. And there’s never a need to thank me.”

A quick glance into the mirror of the bathroom had you sighing.

Eyes raccooned from tears streaking your makeup. Your hands were covered in dirt, wrists and elbows scratched up after falling in the garden when you ran out the back of the church. The lower half of your dress was dotted with small amounts of blood from your calves, lace shredded, all from the thorns of the rose bushes you sprinted through to escape faster.

When you finally managed to get into the bath, a hiss left your lips at the sting of hot water, cleaning the minor abrasions. It took what little energy you had left to wash and scrub the dirt out, dry your hair, and get into the pajamas left out for you.

The room was warming up from the small fireplace across from the twin-sized bed. After the last bite of soup, you lay down and cried yourself to sleep.

I am really going to enjoy writing about Levi's adjustments and personality around having physical impairments. The reason is that, if you don't know, my partner and I both suffer from chronic pain, and my partner has recently had to adjust to living in a wheelchair full-time. When you have these types of changes happen, suddenly, you begin to see the world is not built for folks with disabilities in mind. Levi wants to have his own tea shop and live in this particular town. As is his right, and he should be able to make that choice for himself. But the town's buildings were constructed so that apartments would be above where the business is. He had no choice but to deal with stairs every day, every season, even though it legitimately creates a safety hazard for him.

I think it's safe to say that if you really want to say that you love Levi's character—but the idea of him having disabilities, in the end, makes you uncomfortable and makes you not want to read anything that mentions them—you should really do a hard look at yourself and ask why that is. Anyway,

I love you all, and I hope you enjoy it and stay safe out there, my friends!

Tag list below ⬇️ If you would like to be added to Just Deserts tag list please comment to let me know.

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All cat art used on this blog are by the artist Valioart found on pintrest.

[kaibutsushidousha]

What do you think would happen if the Lostbelt War was simply carried out properly?

The only way the Lostbelt War could only be "carried out properly" is Novum Chaldea not appearing. And Chaldea is relevant to the motivations of many participants, so why they don't appear alters the situation.

If the cause of the divergence is Chaldea dying in the prologue, Beryl has no reason to bother anymore, so he just remote-triggers everyone's Sirius Lights. However, Akuta amputated her Sirius Light long before, so only her Lostbelt doesn't explode. ORT could possibly survive the Sirius Light, but he would explode his own heart in one year anyway, so it's just a matter of waiting. Eternal China Ending.

If the cause of the divergence is Chaldea never returning from their Imaginary Number dive, there's no proof they're gone and Beryl will keep waiting for Mash, extending the conflict a lot more long-term.

January

Chaldea takes 3 months to come back, so the movements of the Crypters will remain pretty much the same until March. Keyword: the Crypters. They're not the only players in Part 2.

As soon as the Lostbelts form, Kama escapes India and begins planning her Oo'oku. She's supposed to build it in 6-7 months by yoinking roughly 210 Servants from Chaldea, but here her best option is to take everything from Atlantis. It's the Lostbelt with the most Rogue Servants and it's the only one with a surface level not supervised by its Lostbelt King. The Godbreak Alliance plus the Atlantis Defense Servants gives her roughly 20 Servants, allowing her to build Oo'oku in 60-70 months if the world there keeps spawning new Rogues at the same rate.

"Doesn't Traum have 1000 of Servants to grab at once?" Yes, but Traum didn't appear in Sion's map scan at LB3 prologue, so I'm assuming it doesn't exist yet. Novum Chaldea only discovered it after the New Year, but since Don Quixote moved to it before their arrival in Atlantis, I'll assume it formed somewhere between June and October.

March

Without Fujimaru summoning Avicebron, Kadoc doesn't have the means to beat Ivan. After his Amadeus dies and his Salieri can't handle the job, Ivan awakens and learns the truth as he did in canon, but here he survives and remains active.

Rasputin's main interest is in letting Anastasia be satisfied with her ending, so in canon he only ensured Kadoc's survival and freedom after Kadoc and Anastasia had an honest shot at ruling the Lostbelt, but since here that didn't happen, Rasputin will take both outside to try conquering a new Lostbelt. There are six options for Kadoc to go to, but for reasons, I have to choose Rasputin sending Kadoc and Anastasia to Britain.

April

Gotterdamerüng without Chaldea leaves Napoleon and Sitonai as Ophelia's only opponents. Even if they still have the idea of freeing Brynhild, they lose the fight if they rush in unaware of what Ophelia's eyes do. This means Sigurd's body isn't killed, therefore Surtr doesn't incarnate in April, therefore Skadi is still in control of the Fantasy Tree. No progress on Ophelia's side until Russia grows big enough for their walls to touch. Checking the map, the distance between Scandinavia and Russia is roughly twice the distance between Britain and Atlantis. Atlantis touched Britain during the climax of Olympus, but that was a case where Britain wasn't growing. With both sides growing at decent paces, we can schedule the contact for October.

"But why Russia? Britain is closer." Yes, Britain is also not growing because its tree was sucked dry 2017 years ago, and most importantly, due to the reason I had to send Kadoc to Britain. Britain has a prophecy I'm forced to deal with. There inevitably has to be one outsider mage who accompanies Arthuria's journey and all the steps there need to happen, including all bells, all calamities, and the journey allowing Cnoc to dethrone Morgan. And I feel like Kadoc has the best opportunity to do that. Avalon le Fae in April causes fewer changes than you'd expect. All parties were pretty much done with their 16 years of prep time and were only waiting for the Child of Prophecy. Pretty much everything would play out the same except:

Mash's absence means Beryl would be not invested enough in the plot. After he was done with Spinel and Morgan lost the throne, he'd declare himself a loser and bail to Olympus before the calamities began.

Pepe isn't there to save Kadoc from the Moss humans, but that's nothing Anastasia can't deal with. Freeze them without touching and everything is fine.

Koyanskaya is not developed enough to survive Muryan's request very long. Koyanskaya dies in April.

Muramasa's absence means Arthuria fully becomes a Holy Sword.

Arthuria needs to save Kadoc from the Garden of Lost Will. He can't get out on his own like Fujimaru. And recovering from this would require gigantic progress in his romance arc with Anastasia. Huge increase in Kadoc's protagonist level.

Anastasia was a member of Aesc's party. I really would rather have Kadoc there, but if she has the reaction speed to shield him from Billy's bullet in canon, she has the reaction speed to shield him from the Water Mirror.

The most instrumental changes come from the differences between Mash's and Anastasia's personalities. With how deeply devoted she is to her emotional attachments, she'd take Morgan's side in the faerie conflict. In the Camelot invasion, she'd beg Morgan to escape Britain with them and find a new home in Yaga Russia. Morgan is absurdly stubborn but if they get her to check her memories with Nastya, have this emotional appeal from both Nastya and Habetrot, have a logical appeal from Kadoc telling her that Britain is doomed and that Cnoc will steal her throne but the prophecy doesn't mention that Morgan has to die so she can get away with just disappearing to Avalon, and Spinel's murder removing her last attachment to the fae world, they have a chance of getting through to her.

The last thing Kadoc's journey needs is a means to let him escape Britain during the calamities. Which he can get if he manages to recruit Morgan, the other Avalon le Fae. While Arthuria will forge herself into the Holy Sword, Morgan could forge herself into the Avalon sheath, allowing Kadoc to survive Britain's collapse and return to Russia. Like in canon, Oberon's world-ending hole fails to expand and consume the planet because Melusine cuts him off. But since Kadoc didn't fight the calamities, this time it's a mutual kill from both of them starting at full health. Britain excised. 6 Lostbelts remain.

Another April event in canon is Nemo diving into Imaginary Sea in search of the Chaldea survivors but in this version, we can't have him finding them. He could still find Gogh drifting there, but without Fujimaru forcing riskier decisions, he'd dump Gogh back there if not outright kill her. If Sion's canon plan was already revealed, I could work out a Sion plotline by having her redo her predictions and respond accordingly, but since that's not the case, I'll just write Sion and Nemo off by saying their computer tells them Chaldea is in the Imaginary Sea and they keep searching indefinitely.

May

Kadoc, Anastasia, and Habetrot sneak their way back to Russia. Kadoc could use his new tools as a catalyst to summon King Arthur but opts against it because he can't afford Excalibur coming out of his own mana supply. It's better to lend his Holy Sword to a capable Rogue Servant, and luckily Beowulf is a suitable option for the job. Beowulf excaliblasts Ivan dead. It was a convoluted journey, but Kadoc has finally established Anastasia as his Lostbelt King. Now it's steady expansion progress until contact with Scandinavia.

June

Without Chaldea's intervention, Shi Huang's war preparations continue smoothly. They finish reverse engineering Mei-ren's body for themself and she gets paid with Xiang Yu's ownership. Lan Ling and the couple retreat to the peaceful uninhabited mountains and Akuta stops attending the Crypter meetings. Nothing to worry about until contact with India, and even then that's mostly Shi Huang's problem. China and India's distance is not that much bigger than the distance between Britain and Olympus, so I'll schedule that for November (it won't happen).

September

Without Chaldea's intervention, I think Nezha kills Pepe here. Even if Pepe survives and fights the same way Chaldea did, with Koyanskaya dead in April, Daybit can't save Pepe from Asclepius. Pepe dies. 6 Crypters remain. Lakshmi and Jinako are the only forces opposing Arjuna. "How does Jinako's big cube work?" I have no idea. It may have never existed. Doesn't matter either way without anyone to pull Jinako out of the cube.

October

Three more Yuga cycles after Pepe's death, Arjuna burns his own Fantasy Tree as Douman planned. India excised. 5 Lostbelts remain. Douman once again moves to Olympus.

In the same month, the walls of Russia and Scandinavia touch. Ophelia has the overwhelming advantage in soldiers (the giants and Valkyries vs the Yagas) while Kadoc has the overwhelming advantage in heroes (Anastasia, Habetrot, Beowulf with Excalibur, Billy the Kid, Minotaur, and Atalante Alter vs only Sigurd possessed by Surtr). Kadoc has enough of a tactical eye to figure out that Skadi is not a fighter while she's using all her power to keep the giants (+ Surtr) in check, so his strategy should be to assassinate Skadi first. But all the snow serves as Skadi's eyes, so she should know that's what he's going for. I don't think aiming for Skadi first would work, especially with Ophelia's eye being a factor. But Kadoc is informed about her eye and not informed about the consequences of killing Sigurd's body, so his logical approach would be: Attempt to kill Skadi regardless of counters -> Ophelia stops this possibility -> kills Sigurd instead. That causes the Surtr scenario. Skadi hits the panic button and frees the prisoners Napoleon and Sitonai. Kadoc is forced to shoot his trump card: Beowulf with Excalibur. Ophelia's sacrifice Sirius Light + a blast of the Holy Sword + an overloaded Grendel Buster + Napoleon's finisher should defeat the giant. Ophelia dies. 5 Crypters remain. The last major enemy left in Scandinavia is Skadi, who wishes only for her children not to be trampled. Kadoc seizing Scandinavia's Fantasy Tree instead of cutting it down doesn't make him an enemy, and it only plays to Kadoc's advantage to recruit Skadi instead of fighting her. Russia and Scandinavia merged. 4 Lostbelts remain.

But October is not over yet. Fantasy Tree Magellan is blooming. That's where Zeus set up Demeter and Aphrodite to die fighting Chaldea so that he could run away from the incarnated Alien God without shaming himself in front of his family. But here there's no Chaldea. So we're left with the challenging question of "Would Zeus prioritize his pride or his survival?". And that's the divergence point of the Lostbelt. This is a Zeus that chooses to survive at all costs. Zeus would abandon Demeter and Aphrodite, moving the two to Kirschtaria's side. Zeus escapes the Lostbelt and tries to escape Earth. But like Koyanskaya's egg, he can't leave. The dome to the cosmos is closed. He'd need to open a hole with a properly charged World Discipline Keraunos but other things are happening at the same time.

As usual, Muramasa kills Atlas, preventing Kirschtaria's plan while Kirschtaria is being held off by Beryl. The Rhongomyniad tactics aren't at play here, but Beryl can still fight full-power Kirschtaria because he got his Woodwose transformation earlier than canon. U-Olga successfully emerges. Apostle count 3->4. Muramasa is urgently dispatched to deal with Zeus, causing the last World Discipline Keraunos charge to be wasted smiting him. Muramasa dies. Apostle count 4->3. Olga gets to consume the Olympus Lostbelt, removing the Cronus Crown power source that let Zeus use his Noble Phantasm, so now he's just stuck on Earth, humiliated and desperate.

Olga didn't consume Olympus in canon because of Kirsch's Sirius Light kicking her away, but here there was no Rhongomyniad that he had to wall, so no opportunity for Beryl to fatally stab him, and Kirschtaria wouldn't use Sirius Light if he wasn't about to die anyway. He has the option to survive. Caenis was always in and out of the Lostbelt walls thanks to Poseidon's authority, so Kirsch could have an emergency escape route by having Caenis pilot the actual Poseidon Alitheia carrying his party of Dioscuri, Demeter, Aphrodite, and Artemis.

Since U-Olga still manifested, Douman still got inspired to develop Naraka Mandala, and Beryl refuses to die without seeing Mash again, so he allies with Douman and uses that as his ticket out of this doomed place. Olympus excised. 3 Lostbelts remain.

November

Zeus studied his options. He has nothing left to lose. He just wants to get away from CHALDEAS ASAP and needs all Fantasy Trees gone for it. South America is a time bomb thanks to ORT's heart, so Zeus will resort to stalling against this one. China is beatable at any time despite Shi Huang's Grand-level body. But Russia is an easier pick now since Skadi still hadn't much time to recover. Zeus attacks Kadoc and can counter or overpower all of his remaining options.

Meanwhile, Kirschtaria has a big target on his back due to betraying CHALDEAS. With his plan lost, trusting his friends is his only option. He mainly trusts Daybit to save the day, but he can't join Daybit because that would draw U-Olga's attention to him. Instead, he chooses to join Kadoc's side. Kirschtaria with his party of 5 gods is all Kadoc needs to turn the tides against Zeus. Kadoc's roster suffered a few casualties, but should still have its most important members (Anastasia, Habetrot, Skadi). Kirschtaria's third and last use of his ideal magecraft happened here, so he's no longer a combat asset for Kadoc.

At the same time, Douman is running the Imperial Holy Grail War in the Heian without Fujimaru's presence to intervene. This time he also brought his new assistant Gatto Beriru, probably with a really stupid spelling like 歹戸辺璃瑠. Fujimaru is honestly not much of a factor in Heian. Douman would still set up Ibuki to become a Beast, still realize the day before that Ibuki was not guaranteed to be loyal to CHALDEAS, still try to become the new Beast himself instead, still fail because he never loved mankind, and still get chopped by Kintoki. Cagliostro obtained. Apostle count: 3 -> 4.

There is a crucial difference in this scenario, however. Pepe never put Douman on his last life. Kintoki's victory accomplishes nothing. Douman can just reset the Singularity and try again. Grab a second copy of Cagliostro while he's at it, why not? Neither he nor Cagliostro can be turned into Beasts by the Fantasy Tree because they never knew true love, but Douman's team in this version has one more member. One full of opinions on love and beauty. One with a solid vision for the mankind he wants.

Speaking of Beasts, Kama also lost her source with Olympus being excised. She needs to reevaluate where's the new best place to grab Servants from, and luckily, Traum exists now. That's a few thousand Servants taken, making for a bigger, badder, and more loading-screen-filled labyrinth than ever before. However, Traum fails to provide with a human to complete the ritual by breaking all the Buddhist vows. Our twig and nerves friends aren't too equipped for that life of desire. Kama returns Bluebook to Traum, where they begin to rebuild their Servant armies from scratch. His main partner Zhang Jue might be still around.

December

Douman's second round of Heian concludes with the manifestation of Beast VII, U-Beryl. Now that he has Independent Manifestation, he can roam the Imaginary Sea in search of the disappeared Shadow Boarder. He plans to keep his word about being an allied force to CHALDEAS and U-Olga Marie, but he'll only be back after he finds Mash, and since that'd defeat the premise of this scenario, he'll never do. Nonetheless, Douman and Cagliostro consider this a job well done and regroup with U-Olga and Kotomine in Mictlan. Beryl doesn't die but metamorphosizes and leaves the plot for good. 4 Crypters remain. Cagliostro 2 obtained. Apostle count: 4->6->5 if you want to count U-Beryl as one.

Beryl's metamorphosis leaves Kadoc and Kirschtaria as the last two humans on Earth, therefore Kama's only options for Oo'oku. I don't think either of them would be able to cheat the system the ways Fujimaru did, but together, they have the combination character traits necessary to succeed. Without Goredolf completing Kama's maturation, she shouldn't be much trouble. Mata Hari's hypnosis duty can be done by Aphrodite. Scheherazade's Reality Marble duty can be done by Demeter's land-making authority. Tajima's swording really good duty can be done by a Saber from grabbed Traum. We know Yamato Takeru was one the earliest summons of the Revenge Realm, so that works. Kama gets defeated not too differently from canon. Unfortunately without Kiara to enable her development.

Second January

The canon crumbling of Oo'oku returned all Servants to Chaldea, so in this versions, all Servants in the walls should return to Traum (except Takeru who went to Kadoc's party). But Traum was already reconstructing for 2 months, so it already developed new factions. Kriemhild and Constantine are no longer faction leaders and I don't think they could manage rising to the top again. Kriem probably wouldn't even try since she'd find Siegfried in their return. Either way, someone would get the three Grails, and Zhang Jue would lead the attack on Antarctica.

We still don't know enough about CHALDEAS's total forces, but considering Kriem with 2 Traum Grails was on Siegfried's level, I can confidently say Bluebook's army gets easily wiped. No casualties among the 5 Apostles.

With that surprise threat quickly out of the way, the Apostles can return to their respective plans. A Douman shikigami attacks Kadoc, dies easily to his current party, as everyone including himself expected, and the two Cagliostros get planted in Kadoc's and Kirschtaria's heads. They don't have Dantès to cause an Id scenario, but Aphrodite continues to be an extremely value party member, allowing an Anastasia power of love solution to the horrors that inflates Kadoc's protagonist levels even harder. Kirschtaria's relationship with Caenis is unfortunately not like that, so he'd have a worse handle of the malignant information, but he can infodump all of the plot's secrets to Kadoc before he's gone. Cagliostro double dies. Apostle count: 5->3. Kirschtaria dies. 3 Crypters remain.

Second February

Kadoc and Kirschtaria not dying at the same time causes a huge disadvantage state for CHALDEAS. Remember, the reason why Bluebook could command millions of Servants at once was because he gained Representative of Mankind status from being the last human of his world. Camazotz seems to count as another example of the power a Representative of Mankind gains. Akuta and Daybit aren't human, so Kadoc is the last one left. He now can make his own Traum equivalent and become a threat CHALDEAS can't afford to ignore.

However, this is happening at the same month as ORT becomes accessible. They need to be on these two battlefronts at the same time or else they're checkmated by the one they previously ignored. The smartest option here is send Olga to get rid of Kadoc and send Douman and Kotomine to kill Daybit and secure ORT.

Even if Kadoc doesn't stand much of a chance against full power Olga, I don't believe there is any fast solution for a Representative of Mankind, so the Mictlan side of the conflict should end first. Not much to say here. Kotomine and Douman just kinda get hard walled by Camazotz. Daybit wins the race.

Izcalli's change of heart comes from the Dinosaur King reveal rather than from the few times Chaldea humiliated him, so I think he'd still say no to ORT at the last minute. And without Olga's heart to make Daybit a viable core, they have to use blond Tezca to wake up the spider. ORT retrieves the sun with practically no resistance. Apostle count: 3->1.

Kadoc and Olga probably disengage to go after Olga. Camazotz is also fighting on their side. I think ORT still takes this one. Kadoc's Servant army is very whittled down from holding off Olga, Olga can't assimilate ORT because Tezca is already there as a core, and most importantly, even if they manage to destroy ORT's body, it should be able to make shikigami copies after eating Douman. RIP Earth. Kadoc, Akuta, and Olga die. No Apostles remain. 1 Crypter remains. The Russia-Scandinavia, China, and Latin America Lostbelt weren't excised but their lands were shattered, so maybe they still exist but only in the shard that contains the tree. Lostbelt count: 3->0 or 4 depending on how this works.

ORT, Daybit, and Camazotz all survive to either be lost in space forever or become another planet's problem. The end.

[madbard]

I can’t stop thinking about a TMA fic idea where, instead of going Somewhere Else at the end of the series, Martin wakes up back in the safe house the morning the world ended.

Jon doesn’t remember anything. Neither, it seems, does anyone else. Martin checks the statements they’ve received and finds Elias’ message in the top file, exactly where he had expected it. In classic Martin fashion, he promptly commits arson and discards of the ashes. If none of this feels quite real, then at least it is a pleasant dream. It’s been so long since he’s dreamed like this.

Martin and Jon have a lovely, quiet day. They walk over to see the cows. They eat together, and Martin prepares tea. Jon knows something is wrong, but Martin brushes it off, blaming his strange mood on nightmares. It’s been a rough few years, and even rougher few months. If Martin seems a bit… off, well, it only makes sense.

Moreover, something in Jon doesn’t want to know what Martin is hiding. Something in him so deeply yearns to keep its eyes shut.

That night, they go to sleep, side by side. Jon lies across from Martin, relatively human and relatively happy and, most importantly, alive. Martin falls asleep tracing the scars on his hands.

The next morning begins like any in the safe house. Martin wakes up and wanders over to the kitchen to make some tea, while Jon follows him, still fighting off sleep. The morning light through the windows sets everything aglow and as Martin opens up the cupboard, he couldn’t be happier… until his hand brushes empty air.

“… Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Where’s the tea we bought yesterday?” At this point he knows. But he has to be sure. And when Jon looks up at him, confused, and tells him that they ran out yesterday and certainly didn’t purchase any more, that they were planning to buy some today, Martin felt that truth solidify in his stomach like a stone.

Jon sees the change in Martin’s expression and this time he almost asks - but that same part of him that covered his eyes earlier now rears up and nearly chokes him. He doesn’t want to know.

“Martin? What-”

Martin doesn’t give him the chance to finish. In seconds, he’s out the door, crumpling Elias’ message as he walks.

That day is quiet and difficult, filled with arguments and half-asked questions, obviously false answers. When they fall asleep, Jon is turned away. Martin stares up at the ceiling until sleep claims him.

The next day seems a bit dimmer. He stays in bed with Jon as long as he can, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse, the warmth of his breath, as they hold each other in the quiet morning.

Days pass, then weeks. Martin learns every path by heart, every conversation, at first precious, eventually made dull by repetition. Sometimes, he’s able to smile. Sometimes, he admits that he can feel the Lonely rolling over him like the tide. (What could be lonelier than going through such an experience, and being unable to talk about it? What could be lonelier than knowing that, no matter what, everything you do today will be forgotten tomorrow?) Jon can offer comfort, but he cannot ask why that comfort is needed. He cannot know.

In the end, Martin wakes up early. He puts Elias’ message in his pocket and goes into town, buying tea and pastries and two pairs of comfortable walking shoes.

They share a warm breakfast together, as a thick white fog hangs around the cabin. Martin finishes his tea, and places the statement on the table when Jon isn’t looking.

“I’m going to go for a walk.”

“In this fog?” Jon looks out the window, and in his eyes, Martin sees the reflection of the Lonely. He gets up and walks over.

“I just want to stretch my legs. I’ll be back before lunch, alright?”

Jon meets his gaze, and if some communication passes between them, it is swiftly buried by the fog. “Alright. I need to take a statement anyway.”

Before leaving, Martin bends down and kisses him, just once.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Martin steps out into the mist and walks, walks and walks until the world ends.

[anotherbananasong]

ugh earth being able to hit the nail on the head that causes alpha to pull away from his family ;;

did earth know how much it'd hurt alpha, and do it on purpose to hurt him the way he's hurt earth(and air), or did he not know and just got insanely good aim to hit alpha where it hurts?? Does he even know HIS words are what caused it?? Surely as a Fellow Dad, he'd have some form of regret from saying it. Not for Alpha. But for Charon, who almost loses his dad bc of it.

I think Earth was conscious of how hurtful his words were; but it’s Alpha, and he doesn’t care what Alpha thinks or feels. That bridge has long since burned.

I ended up spending more time than I should, but I figured with the recent confusion, I’d break down the timeline of events.

Under a readmore because it’s loooooong as shit..

Without revealing too much, @bloodfin had a lovely little blurb that I definitely agree with; Charon wasn’t summoned. Not intentionally, at least. And when Alpha stepped up to the plate, he was already in love with the kit.

He was excited to be a father, especially if it meant he had Dew there with him. There was about a four-day period where the two (now three) of them hid out in their room, just enjoying this new life they were going to have. Charon didn’t leave Alpha’s arms the whole time.

But then, it was time to meet Astra. And Earth is less than thrilled (he doesn’t want his daughter near that asshole).

Earth says he feels sorry for the kit; Alpha’s ruined his life just by being his father. Air, of course, is the only that knows just how low Alpha got, the nights he had to spend with him just making sure Alpha would make it through to the morning instead of giving in to his misery. Though Air is quick to chastise Earth, the damage is done. A perfect example of how you shouldn’t say something hurtful cause you have no idea what someone is going through, or has been through. And, in Alpha’s mind, Earth is right: how could Alpha have possibly thought he’d be a good father?

So he distances. He can’t ruin this kit’s life with his horrid existence. Charon needs a good father, not someone as worthless and cruel as he is. Charon doesn’t understand why the distancing is happening, and neither does Dew. What changed, that made Alpha not love them anymore? What did he do wrong?

After almost a week, Alpha decides he can’t do this. Dew will find someone better to raise their kit. He’s going to ask to be returned to the Pits; Dew and Charon deserve someone better.

Like I’ve said, when Alpha is about to walk, it’s Charon’s cry that stops him.

While he’s lying with Dew and Charon in his arms, that’s when he decides he can’t hide behind “they deserve better” anymore and actually be what he thinks they deserve. He had to come a looooong long way, but that moment made him realize he had more to offer. His kit and his mate love him, and he loves them. Earth can say and think how he feels; Alpha knows he loves these two fire ghouls, and from here on out he will be exactly what he wants to be to make sure they know how much he loves them.

Alpha makes good on his promise that Charon will never cry because of him again. He’s going to protect him as fiercely as he protects Dew.

Sorry, this was long and sloppy… but I figured I’d throw the timeline out there (I forget people don’t know the things @ashthewaterghoul and I talk about and how much lore I haven’t shared…. eh heh). Yes, Alpha’s insecurities and fear pushed him away from Charon for a moment, but he doesn’t stay there. He doesn’t do that to Charon (or Dew) again. I just tend to bounce around when I draw for the “domestic Charon” tag because I bounce all over the place to begin with. Sorry to those that thought it meant that Alpha bounces around between caring for/neglecting Charon… Alpha only pushed him away once; after he had his epiphany, he never shuts Charon out again. He decides to be the father he wants to be to Charon.

[fallenangelofsalt]

*slowly raises hand like im in class*

I personally think TDL is in the wrong about a LOT of things, but I would like to point out that him going to attack stickfigures after those rampages or the fight with TCO is also pure speculation. Sure, he's shown to be a lot more likely to do that than TCO, but then why is the city nearby not in ruins yet? And the thing about all sites being used by humans, the point is that none of the sites shown as Virabot targets are sites likely to have stickfigures in them. What is a stick gonna do in twitter?

And why the heck would he NOT think the CG is working for Alan? That cursor came from SOMEWHERE and the CG are the only other unexpected factor in the mix, of course he would think so, and Orange is very obviously a hollowhead, something that only Alan's creations have in common.

I don't think his hatred towards Alan was ever about Chosen, if your creator gave you an impossible task that you had no idea how badly could go for you, and then just kept playing solitaire while you are left at the mercy of someone who had every right to kill you then and there, wouldn't YOU be mad?

I don't think he was ever in the right with the things he did, exept maybe throwing that Virabot at Alan's PC considering he had no way of knowing there were stickfigures there at the time (you'd think having his old PC blown up would prevent him from trying that again, and it did, its just that TSC is an anomaly even in creation) but besides that, every bad thing he did had been done with TCO at his side, and I personally think TDL never had a chance to be good.

I have a personal theory that every hollowhead reflects Alan in some way. Now, this is pure theory, no need to read this part, but here's how I think:

Victim mirrors Alan's methodical torture. Now, Vic does it more as a means to an end rather than pure entertainment, but Alan is also shown to use stickfigures, TCO was enslaved as an ad block, TDL was created to kill TCO, and TSC was allowed to live and keep his friends as long as he helped with animating. Victim torturing TCO is more of a consequence than him being that way normally, but overall Vic is a watered down version of early Alan with a tragic backstory.

TCO has the same narrow worldview, he doesn't show any signs of remorse or hesitation until they're attacking stickfigures, and Alan doesn't even consider that maybe stickfigures have emotions until TSC talked.

TSC reflects the more positive aspects of Alan, like his love for animating and ability to create life.

TDL meanwhile, reflects a LOT of early Alan. Lack of empathy and disregard for stickfigures for example, as well as creating things with the purpose of destruction, and sadism.

The thing is, TDL was never meant to value stickfigures, and I don't think he ever had the opportunity to besides Chosen. Even if they both had a say in their targets it is very likely that Chosen had been leading at the beginning, considering in AVA3 TDL was only ever shown to follow others. The only part where he could argueably be the one leading is when the icons join the fight and that is very brief.

The only possible reason I can think of as to why that nearby city hasn't been attacked yet is that either Dark has no interest in doing so or Chosen has somehow gotten over his abysmal communication skills long enough to say maybe lets not.

And even if Chosen gets all the credit for their attack on newgrounds why would Dark interact with other sticks at that point? Alan had stick Jesus show up on his PC while he was doing laundry and the only reason why TSC didn't get deleted is a freak combination of uno reverse card powers, drawing skills and the ability to talk.

I'm rambling at this point but

TL;DR Dark is absolutely in the wrong but I see him as a what if Alan had actually tried to delete TSC, you know? The only real difference is that Alan saw a last minute reason to keep TSC around and TDL didn't. So I think he could mellow out given opportunity and time but now he's dead so :/

A message to all Dark Lord defenders

As someone who is vehemently against the idea that Dark is in any way sympathetic, I invite you to try and change my mind, I want to have a conversation with you all, because I genuinely think it's interesting that so many can look at a character who I think is a completely irredeemable asshole and see something more charitable.

So go on Dark defenders, go wild, explain all of your arguments and I will do my best to argue against them (or, maybe even agree with them if I think they make sense.

[koushisun]

runnin' home to you

Iwaizumi x GN!Reader, reader and iwaizumi both graduated from UCI, sequel to - Where the Love Light Gleams -

WC: 2.7k - angst to fluff, getting back together

A/N: i wrote this almost 3.5 years ago and figured it was finally time to post it lmaooo

You have no idea how you ended up in this situation.

One minute, you were washing dishes peacefully in your apartment, and the next you were braving LA rush-hour traffic to pick up Oikawa from the airport.

After your break-up with Iwaizumi two months ago, you hadn’t really expected to see him again.

“Oikawa? What’s up? Is everything ok?” You were in the middle of washing dishes when your phone rang. After quickly drying your hands with a fluffy dish towel, you picked up the phone, only slightly confused at seeing Oikawa’s name.

You heard him gasp loudly through the phone. “Must something be wrong for me to call you?” You could picture him with his hand over his heart, dramatic as ever.

Rolling your eyes, you replied, “I guess not.” You moved away from the sink and over to your living room, plopping down on your couch. It was a… well-loved couch, one that you had thought of replacing many times, but kept for Hajime’s sake. He really seemed to love that worn, green sofa for some reason.

“Well anyway, I need you to come and pick me up from the airport,” Oikawa stated happily.

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “The airport?”

“I know you know what an airport is.”

“Obviously I know what an airport is, dumbass,” you scoffed. “I meant why are you at LAX? Shouldn’t you be in Argentina right now?” You put your feet up on the couch, hugging your knees close to you.

The last time you had seen Oikawa was well before you and Hajime broke up.

You hear him sigh. “Just come get me and we can keep talking after that. Okay?”

“Fine. But I live out in Anaheim so you’re gonna have to wait at least 45 minutes.” You glance at the time on your phone. “Make that an hour. Maybe more.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. How is this happening to you? All you wanted was to move on from your breakup in peace. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently.

“See you then!”

—

You and Oikawa sit in your car, a tense yet awkward silence enveloping the space. The radio is humming quietly, the bright guitar chords the only thing keeping you sane at that moment.

“So…” Oikawa begins. You mentally brace yourself for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Why exactly did you and Iwa break up?”

Your grip on the steering wheel turns your knuckles white. “I can’t imagine Hajime didn’t tell you already.”

“Oh, no, he did,” Oikawa states. “I just want to hear your perspective.” He turns to look out the window. The sun had already set, the city lights the only thing left to light up the twilight. The yellow of the streetlights casts the car in an amber glow.

You let out a deep sigh. “Well, I’m not really sure how much there is to tell.” You purse your lips before continuing, “I didn’t want to break up. Hajime did. We talked about it, and he got what he wanted.”

“Ok.” His eyes flick over to you. “Is that really all there is to it?”

Somehow, you feel like Oikawa is testing you. On what, you don’t know. “We tried long distance.”

He hums, nodding you along.

“Hajime said he felt guilty asking me to wait for him.” You nearly whisper the words, and you wonder if Oikawa could even hear you. You speak up. “He said he didn’t want to keep me waiting when there was no guarantee we would get to be together in the future.” Your grip on the steering wheel remains firm, the grooves of leather digging into your palm. “I got angry with him. I still am angry with him. It felt like he was just giving up on us.”

“Let me ask you this,” Oikawa says. He locks his eyes on you, and though you can’t look at him, you feel his gaze burning into your skin. “How far would you go for him?”

You feel your anger dissolve, floating off into the night. “For Hajime?” You question, eyes soft as you stare out at the road ahead of you. “For him, I would go anywhere.” You feel a bittersweet smile rest on your face. “And maybe that’s naive of me, but it’s the truth.”

Oikawa smiles in return. “I don’t think that’s naive at all.” He breathes a laugh. “I mean, I literally left Japan to play volleyball in Argentina. I had no idea what I was getting myself into at the time, but I don’t think I could ever regret it.” He turns his attention to the night sky.

Your voice is soft as you say, “I offered to follow him, y’know.”

The words linger in the air, resting warm but heavy on the two of you.

“I know.”

—

“You want me to do what?”

Oikawa leans back in his chair, laughing. “I want you to go see Iwa-chan in Miyagi!”

The two of you sit at your dinner table, his laptop open in front of the two of you. The slightly cracked screen shows a list of flights from LAX to Sendai, all set to arrive by December 23rd. Oikawa must’ve lost his damn mind.

“Are you actually stupid—that's like, a month away.”

His smile grows wider. “I’ll choose to ignore your hurtful words. But hey, that’s plenty of time to buy your plane ticket!”

You pause for a moment, nervously searching his eyes before sighing. “Why are you doing this?”

Oikawa’s cheerful expression softens, turning a touch more serious. “You said you would go anywhere for Iwa.” He leans towards you. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course I did.”

He leans back, a gentle smile on his face. “Then go chase your dream.”

—

You’re glad to be off the plane; a full ten and a half hours of sitting still is not your idea of fun. You make a mental note to book a session with your chiropractor when you get back to California.

You drag your suitcase behind you, scanning the crowd for Matsukawa. You’ve never actually met him in person, though you had talked to him a few times when Hajime video-called his old friends. You spot him leaning against the wall just outside of baggage claim; he’s taller than you thought he would be, though you suppose it makes sense given that he used to play volleyball.

“Matsukawa-san!” You greet him with a smile.

He kicks off the wall and reaches out for your suitcase. You let him take it but keep your backpack with you. “Nice to finally meet you in person,” he says, adjusting his grip on your luggage. “I'm parked not too far from here.” He nods towards the door and you follow behind him as he exits the terminal. “How was the flight?” He asks.

“Eh.” You shrug. “It was about as good as it could be, I guess.” You’re suddenly grateful for all the time you spent learning Japanese, both for Hajime and for fun. The words still feel foreign in your mouth, though you manage to get through your response without too much trouble. Hopefully, you haven't gotten too rusty in the past few months.

Matsukawa chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not exactly an easy trip.” You walk in silence for a few minutes before finding his car and beginning the drive to his apartment.

“Y’know,” he says, glancing at you briefly. “I’m glad you agreed to come.”

“You are?”

Matsukawa sighs before replying, “Hajime wanted to do what he thought was best for you. Even if that meant hurting you and him both. The ends justified the means.” He flicks on his blinker. “He misses you.”

You can’t make yourself look at him, so you content yourself with looking at your fidgeting hands. “I would certainly hope so,” you mutter. “It would make this whole trip a little awkward if he didn’t.”

“Well,” Matsukawa chuckles, “you’re not wrong about that.” He comes to a stop at a red light. “Hajime’s never given up easily. I’ve known him for years now, and I don’t think he’s ever backed down from a challenge,” he says. “He hates losing, but he hates giving up even more.” he glances at you for no more than a moment, but his knowing gaze burns you all the same.

You don’t respond for a moment. Then, “I thought I knew a lot of things about Hajime.” You pick at your nails, grimacing when you pull a hangnail a bit too far. “But I’m not sure what I know anymore.” You shake your head, willing the thoughts away. They could wait for another time. “Anyways,” you redirect, “why don’t you tell me more about Hanamaki-san! I’m excited to meet him.”

Matsukawa snorts, responding, “What do you want to know?”

—

Matsukawa’s apartment was surprisingly clean. You had seen your fair share of bachelor pads back in California, and they were almost never this neat. Not to say you didn’t welcome his apparent cleanliness; it was a nice surprise, really.

The kitchen was an absolute mess, though.

“Hey! Issei!” You jump a bit when a head pops around the corner—you can only assume the mystery man is Hanamaki. His strawberry blond hair is dusted with flour and, once he moves into the hallway, you can see he is wearing a frilly blue apron that is absolutely caked with who knows what.

You had no idea it was possible to get that messy in the kitchen.

“Hiro!” Matsukawa walks further into the apartment with you following closely behind. “What the hell happened to my kitchen?” He asks, more confused than angry.

“I made us all dinner, obviously.”

“Fuck that,” Matsukawa deadpans, “we’re ordering take-out.”

Hanamaki pouted at the taller male, whining, “Aww come on, man! I promise you won’t get food poisoning this time!”

Well, that’s not concerning at all.

“Do you want your usual?” Matsukawa is resolutely ignoring his friend at this point. Hanamaki doesn’t answer, choosing to grab a plate of the food he prepared. “I’ll take that as a yes. Do you want me to just order for you?” He asks, turning to you.

“Oh, uh,” you begin, “I wouldn’t want to upset Hanamaki-san!” As worried as you are for your immune system, you still don’t want to turn down someone’s hospitality.

“He’ll be fine,” Matsukawa says, eyes shining with amusement. “Hiro just started watching this cooking competition and now he thinks he’s God’s gift to the culinary arts.” He continued typing on his phone. “Last time he tried to make something, we both got food poisoning; let me tell you, it was not a fun time.”

In the end, you decide to play it safe and let Matsukawa order you food. Though you did graciously (and perhaps a bit stupidly) let Hanamaki feed you a sample of his dinner.

It was pretty gross.

“So, Hanamaki,” you started up some conversation as you waited for the delivery to arrive, “what do you do for work?” You notice Matsukawa’s smile as Hanamaki finishes chewing his food.

“I’m sort of in between jobs right now,” he admits. “But I just had a job interview for the Sendai Aquarium, so I’m hoping that’ll work out.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck!”

Your eyes flit between Hanamaki and Matsukawa as you try to piece together their dynamic. They seem really close. How do they make it work? Hanamaki is such a free spirit, and Matsukawa seems much more grounded. Of course, they’ve known each other for a long time, and they certainly have things in common, but what makes it so easy for them to stay together?

And why wasn’t it that easy for you and Hajime?

“I’m not gonna ask about you and Iwa,” Hanamaki’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, “but I will say this: sometimes, it’s best to just go with the flow. Shit happens, y’know? I mean it’s not like Issei and I always get along. We just keep trying. So, just see where this takes you.”

You let that sink in for a moment. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” You give him a small smile. “Thanks, Hanamaki.”

—

On the frigid morning of December 24th, you stand on the front step of Iwaizumi’s childhood home. He had moved back in with his parents when he returned to Japan six months ago, hoping to save up money and move to Tokyo.

You feel your heart squeeze in your chest as you knock on the door. The ensuing silence is almost suffocating despite the winter wind chilling your cheeks. Your breath catches in your throat when you hear the soft scuffing of socked feet on the wooden floor inside.

The door opens to reveal Hajime in a faded UC Irvine hoodie and dark grey sweatpants. The hoodie was one you had given him for his birthday two years back, and the sight makes tears rise, unbidden.

“Hey, Hajime,” you whisper. You wear a ghost of a smile, your eyes drinking in his form.

He says your name, obviously confused. “What are you doing here?” His eyes are wide, and he ushers you in from the cold. He takes your jacket and hangs it on the coat rack. “I thought you said you were going home for Christmas?” You can see the concern in his dark brown eyes.

Your voice is thick as you reply, “I am home.”

Hajime stills for a moment before his face crumples and he cries, pulling you into a warm embrace. You bury your face in his sweatshirt, comforted by the familiar scent of his cologne. When he finally pulls away, he asks, “How long are you here for?”

You slide off your shoes, answering, “I go back in two weeks.” He nods, leading you into the living room. “Hajime.” You call. He turns to look at you, your hands held firmly in his.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk about what happened,” you say firmly, but not unkindly. He nods silently, walking to the couch. It’s plush and comfortable, and the two of you sink down into the cushions, a safe distance away from one another.

“I know you had your reservations about this, but I’m going to move to Japan.” You squeeze his hands. “I told someone recently that I would chase my dream. And I meant it.” You look into his eyes, hoping he could feel your sincerity. “I’m going to be here for this Christmas, and every other Christmas after that.” A shaky breath. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“You know I want that too.” His eyes are watery, and his hands hold yours in a firm grip. “Of course I do. But I can’t ask you to uproot your whole life for me. That’s just not fair.”

“Hajime.” You pull a single hand out of his hold and guide his face to look at you. “You’re not asking me to give up anything. I’m telling you this because it’s what I want.” He leans his face into your hand. A stray tear makes its way down his tan skin and you gently wipe it away. “If I didn’t want this, I’d be sitting on my shitty green couch in California, not here right now with you.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you, ok? I want to be with you—I don’t care if that’s here or California, or anywhere else in the world. And that’s my choice. Not yours, not anyone else’s—mine.”

Neither of you say anything for a while, simply sitting and basking in the other’s presence.

“You know,” Hajime’s voice cuts through the silence and you open your eyes to see his dark brown ones staring at you intently, “I happen to really like that ‘shitty green couch,’ thank you very much.” A teasing grin sneaks on his face and you can’t help but laugh.

“Not really sure why, but whatever.” You shake your head, grateful the atmosphere lightened up. Your hands are still intertwined, and though his palm is a bit sweaty, you’re grateful for the reminder that he’s really here with you. “So, will you let me stay?”

His smile grows. “Nothing would make me happier.”

[seasonal-writes]

Hey there! So, it’s been a while. I have done a lot of thinking, some writing, some attempts—but I have come to the conclusion that I do not think I will be writing out the continuation and end of When Fate Finds Golden Rings. It took me a while to get to this point, and I'm so sorry to anyone who was hoping or expecting me to eventually come back to posting it on ao3. You know, you just.. don’t write on a fic for over a year-ish and surprise! Maybe you really lost the energy and passion for this piece after all. Which is okay. 

BUT. Instead,

Welcome to: Ro gives away the plans for the ending, rambles about that process, and gives other weird notes about their first big boy AU. Because I saw a post about bullet point-ing fic and realized I am, in fact, allowed to do that. 

Strap in because this is going to be a Big Post. Sorry in advance. And if it wasn't very obvious, um. Spoilers for When Fate Finds Golden Rings below the cut. <3

It’ll probably be starting at chapter 14. 

So, I want to disclose, before we begin: the ending is not totally up to my current standards as a writer. And this isn’t going to be me bashing my own creative process or my burnout or anything like that. I just feel like noting that… had I thought about the ending in more detail instead of flying by the seat of my pants, I think that it would be more put-together and interesting. I think that applies to the entire story, honestly. So. Yeah. If the ending falls a little flat, that is why. I was too busy daydreaming over my epilogue—which I will be talking about as well!! It's honestly my favorite aspect that came from continually thinking about the fic rather than writing it. LMAO.

Interestingly enough, I originally wrote that there were going to be at most like, 7-8 chapters left. realistically, that would probably not have happened. Considering this outline was in SHAMBLES, I can safely say it would’ve been a whirlwind last few chapters. sincerely, future Ro after writing out the mess you’re about to see.

The place where Joel, Lizzie, and Etho live was going to be the place where the ending took place. All the chapters in this “arc” as I'd call them—even though that’s not really what they are—were going to be here and were originally intended to be a deeper dive into Tango’s background. Since the first half of the story is really steeped in Jimmy’s world, it had only felt right to give Tango his own section and exposition as a character.

This was going to become the part of the story where it’s like, Jimmy and tango are in a more stable place for a moment so it gives them more time to reflect. It also would’ve given them time to be away from each other, which I thought was important for two guys who had been subjected to good ol’ forced proximity and were finally given little outs to be apart; i.e. Etho taking tango away for a day, Jimmy spending time with Lizzie and/or Joel. That was a chapter idea I had: both basically kinda being like: yeah! no! I can be alone. I don't miss him at all. not even a little. it feels weird without him here though, right- and just dealing with that. Plus the fear of getting caught, the fear of the OTHER one getting caught and not knowing. yeah. <3

Something I had planned on happening between Tango and Jimmy was that Jimmy was basically going to very much avoid his own feelings all around. He’s so attached to this guy, very much falling for him, and convinced that he is in the way despite it all. He’s kinda… under the impression that maybe he’s in the wrong for not wanting to stay, because OBVIOUSLY Jimmy knows better than to stay in one place like this after the whole journey thus far, when Tango seems so happy. So Jimmy, flawed as this idea is, just assumes Tango will be better off if he stays close to his home and Jimmy doesn’t want to make Tango feel like he has to keep running. The best way i can describe this is like

Jimmy: Man. Tango seems really happy here. I don't think he needs me. I bet he wants to stay. No, I'm not gonna ask him, that’s crazy. What I WILL do, however, is leave without telling him. 

and then he did. :) 

That was basically going to lead into a chapter where Jimmy is ~kidnapped~ on his way out of town by ANOTHER set of characters I was excited about: the mercenaries, Ren, Martyn, and BigB! Golden Rings!Ren is fun to me because he keeps the Red King aesthetic. For some context of why they exist: the three stooges mercenaries heard through the grapevine that if the two princes were captured and returned alive, there would be a big reward. I never actually decided if they’d been tracking Jimmy and Tango for a while, or if it was a coincidence that the reward went out and they happened to stumble into town. but all that matters is that Ren ‘n Gang are in fact successful, and smuggle Jimmy off to a camp somewhere along the road headed back to the palace with full intentions of bringing him home, with or without tango. 

behind the scenes, tango is actively losing his mind. so, fun fact here: I never actually…wrote down how this next bit happens. please forgive me i haven’t touched this outline in like a year and a lot has happened since then- but OoOoh wow! Tango manages to find him!! at the camp!! at night. please note here that golden rings!tango has reflective animal eyes. like cats at night when light shines on them? that’s tango. 

I had this whole scene planned where I would riff off the Tango Rage and make him go nuts on these guys. The funny thing is that Tango can’t really fight, but I think he would do an effective job on scaring the shit out of them and chasing them out of camp. Like, spooky story level shit—crackling twigs, snapping branches, etc.. At the end, Tango manages to untie Jimmy and they make a quick getaway back to town. 

When I tell you this was gonna be one exciting chapter after exciting chapter, I mean it. The next big part, dear rancher enjoyers, was going to be the confession scene. 

Basically, imagine. Tango and Jimmy are walking home. tango is really quiet, won’t look at jimmy except to make sure he’s still right there. There is a storm brewing in the sky, and they’re trying to get back as soon as possible. but suddenly, tango freezes in place. Jimmy gets a few feet ahead, but stops and turns when he notices tango isn’t in pace with him. tango looks hurt. more hurt than jimmy’s ever seen him. which makes Jimmy feel awful. and it’s like:

T: If you wanted to leave, you should have told me.  J: …Tango. T: If you wanted to leave, you should have come and told me. We are friends— a team, you've said it yourself. I would’ve been ready to go.  J: I wasn’t…I was hoping you wouldn’t follow me.  T: Why wouldn’t I follow you? J: I just thought it’d be easier on both of us if I left you to your devices here. I’m sorry.  T: You’re sorry? You think that’s gonna just- just make this better for me? After you just up and left me there, worried that you’d been taken back to your family? T: And- And you almost were, too! You were this close, Jimmy! If you were that scared of staying then- J: You know, there was nothing forcing you to come get me, I could’ve just gone and you could’ve stayed and lived the life you wanted back in the palace! I thought that was the plan! Freedom for both of us! T: ….You really just don’t get it, huh? Are you that dense? J: What? What don’t I understand? T: I am in love with you, you idiot! J: …You.. you what? [dialogue taken from the scene i started writing but never finished<3]

And then more things happen and then they KISSSSSSSS !!! 

Realistically, I want to note that the transition between here and the ending was very finicky and not written down. so, instead, i will be giving you a general run down of what the ending was supposed to be. 

With tango and jimmy now having confessed and acting upon those feelings, they think they’re safe for the moment. However, soon after, etho finds them and basically alerts them of an uptick of Nether Guard, having heard that the mercenaries reported their sighting and now, rather rapidly because ~portal transport~, the kings were sending search parties out once more. etho suggests they get out of the city, and the two agree, prepping quickly to leave what became a very good few allies and safe place for the roads once more. 

The day they are supposed to flee, the overworld’s royal party arrives; Grian heading the way, seeming to be the one sent to find his little brother. 

This part got really fuzzy for me because I don't think I ever actually plotted out the transitionary period between "you two need to run" and "we're running, it's bad."

What I do know, though, is that the final scene would’ve been a confrontation with Grian, who attempts to convince them to come home. but when Jimmy explains, begs his brother to try and understand (i also think he uses his secret relationship with Scar as a bit of an example. leverage, even); Grian eventually wishes his brother goodbye, and turns a blind eye to let them run. 

Epilogue: Tango and Jimmy, fittingly, escape to the countryside. When they eventually outrun search parties and the call for their return dies down, they settle on a tiny cottage out on a tiny farm with wishes to expand it and make it their own. Jimmy tends to the animals. Occasionally, he sends a letter under a false name, and he gets one in response; a brother, far away, still keeping him in on happenings in the kingdom and in his life. Tango dives into his redstone, creating and building and making things he never would’ve had much time to while being a king. He thinks of a guard, long left behind, and wonders if he thinks of him too. 

The two never marry, as marriage doesn’t leave a very sweet taste in their mouths—but they do make vows, whispered promises to stay together forever. A prophecy haunts them; but they were never really the type to obey any plan laid out for them, anyway. 

Some years later, a quiet life has been established—but one day, someone arrives. Tango has gone out to gather supplies, so when there’s a knock, Jimmy answers the door. 

Before him, there is a tall figure with a familiar set of eyes. Impulse, knight and ex-personal guard of the Nether Court, stands before him. When Tango returns to find him, a beautiful reunion is had; one with tears and relief and all the love in the world so present in one moment. 

GUESS WHAT !!! TANGO/JIMMY/IMPULSE CANON IN GOLDEN RINGS EPILOGUE!! IMPULSE COMES BACK TO HIS BOY AFTER ESSENTIALLY GIVING UP HIS GUARD POSITION BECAUSE IT’S NOT THE SAME!! THEY CAN BE SO SILLY TOGETHER NOW!! AAAAAAAAA I’VE BEEN WAITING TO SHARE THIS GOD-

please god someone ask me about this dynamic i’m not okay

And, yeah! That was kind of it for the story. As I said, it falls flat to an extent. It’s not the ending that I would give it today. I still wanted to share it, even if it wasn’t the best or most detailed. I love this story, I love this universe and its characters and all the work I did on it. I still want to think about it, talk about it, etc. I’m not letting it go completely, just.. the fic won’t be finished. I am of the firm belief that I could’ve done a lot of things differently, that the story could be even better if I rewrote it entirely. But that’s not a project for right now. :) Because holy shit this fic is at 65k and that would be… hoooo.. a lot of work. Just like picking it back up and finishing it would also be quite a bit of work. It’s hard—I’ve had people tell me just to do it, just to finish the damn thing for the sake of finishing it and not quitting. So, this is my version of that, even if it isn’t the same. I don’t feel like I’m quitting, I'm only a little sad about how it's ending for now, but it feels right. I’m just like 99% sure I won’t enjoy writing the rest out. And, like I said at the start, that’s okay. Passion and motivation changes. People grow.

Anyway, that’s all! Thanks for listening to my silly little ramble about this AU that is old but still lovely. If you guys have questions or wanna chat about the AU at all, my ask box is always open even if I am terrible at answering them. If I find anything else or think up anything, maybe I’ll post about it! But, for now, I hope you all enjoyed my sillies. I love everyone who set foot in this space and read what is still my most favorite fanfiction I've ever written. :)

[br0nzefox]

I have a lot of thoughts about the murder family.

Don’t get me wrong I wish Abigail could have had a happy ending and I do think the idea of the murder family is super sweet. However realistically I don’t think it would’ve been good for Abigail. It just could not have ended well.

First up even if Abigail hadn’t been killed in Mizumono and somehow Will, Hannibal and Abigail ended up on the run together as a family it wouldn’t have lasted long. Sooner or later (probably sooner rather than later knowing them) Will and Hannibal would’ve gotten into a fight. Because that’s just how their relationship is - unstable, volatile and explosive. And sooner or later in one of their fights Hannibal would’ve let his impulses get the better of him - he would’ve wanted to hurt Will. And Abigail would’ve been a perfect tool for that. So even if Abigail had survived Mizumono I don’t think she would have survived long after.

Next up Will and Hannibal are both very possessive and very jealous men. It was basically outright stated that Hannibal doesn’t want Will to have anyone in his life except Hannibal. And based on how obsessed Will is with Hannibal, how he keeps coming back to him I’d say it’s a fair assumption that once he leaned into his dark side fully he would be just as toxic as Hannibal. And in that tight bond they share, among the obsession, and possessiveness, and jealousy, and greed, and gluttony they feel for each other, there would be no room for Abigail.

And adding on to my previous point Abigail is not like Will and Hannibal. She would never have been able to understand or accept or see them the way they both crave to be seen. Abigail tolerates violence because she has to, but she does not enjoy it. Not how Will and Hannibal do. Because it’s not in her nature. She is not the same kind of beast as Will and Hannibal. And not even Hannibal would’ve been able to change that, to change her nature (he only changed Will because Will was already a monster from the beginning. Hannibal never changed Will he only brought out into the light what was already there). Hannibal would become disappointed, and ultimately bored of Abigail. And Hannibal easily throws away his old toys once they are no longer entertaining. He would not have needed her anymore once he got close enough to Will and once Will leaned into his dark side. And once Abigail would stop being entertaining he would discard her.

And after Will takes off his person suit I simply don’t think he would really care for Abigail anymore. A big part of why he cared for her in the first place was out of feeling responsible for killing her father and of his desire for a family. Hannibal fulfils Will’s desire for companionship and family. And after fully giving into his darkness Will would have let go of the guilt and responsibility he felt for killing Garett Jacob Hobbs. So he would have no reason to care for Abigail anymore.

Finally while I do think Hannibal and Will are capable of love, and they do love each other, they do not love Abigail. And Abigail does not love them either. She depends on them for survival and for protection but she does not love them. And a real family is impossible without love. Abigail’s relationship with Will and Hannibal would be that of a captive and their captors. It would’ve been exactly like the scene @patchouii mentioned: The scene where Will says to the team “You bond with your captor, you survive. You don’t, you’re breakfast” immediately cuts to Hannibal making Abigail breakfast. So even if Abigail managed to survive Will and Hannibal, even if she got a thrill from that survival (like that one post mentioned), she would not have been happy with them. She would face every day as if it were her last, it would be tiring and exhausting and worst of all it would’ve been exactly how it had been with her father. She would never be able to heal, she would never be able to overcome her trauma. She would never be able to get away from her past, she would never be able to get away from her father. It would have been a life worse than death. Her quick death in Mizumono was far more merciful.

Realistically it was probably one of the best case scenarios. I would even argue it would have been kinder to Abigail if Hannibal had simply killed her when he was framing Will instead of keeping her as this messed up, twisted gift for Will like a cat bringing you a half-dead mouse it hasn’t fully killed yet.

Thank you to @patchouii for giving me the idea and the inspiration for this post in their reblog of my previous post on Hannibal’s and Will’s and Abigail’s relationship.

[strangerthings-haventhappened]

AFTG X Batman ch. 1 I guess

based on this post

David sat on the sandy beach watching the flames and tried not to panic. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now. How is he supposed to keep going without his mom? He knows what the plan was and he has the binder with information on where to get a new identification and money, but he also knows that the plan won't work. Not when he is so young. His mother had done her best to teach him what she could and prepare him for a day when he would need to run without her, but neither of them had considered that the day would come so soon. The plans he has all hinge on his ability to pass as an adult, someone who would go unnoticed.

But David isn’t an adult. He is barely 13, a short, skinny, underfed 13. He isn't sure he could convincingly pass for 15 there is no way he will be able to pull off 18. So the plan will have to be modified. He needs to find somewhere that people either won’t notice or won’t care that he is on his own. The most important thing for him now is to avoid attention. If he gets picked up by the police or CPS it will all be over. They will run his fingerprints or DNA against a missing children's database and then his father will find him. If David wants any chance at surviving that can not happen. 

As the flames from the car begin to die down David moves to the side to begin digging a grave for his mother, thinking over his options as he digs. 

In an ideal world he would go to a city with a strong hero presence since his father would be less likely to risk coming after him if there are superheroes. Unfortunately however, most cities with their own heroes are also the kind of places where people notice homeless children. He wants a hero to scare off his father and his men, not to try and save him. No he needs somewhere where he won’t stand out, where there is such a large homeless population that nobody will notice one more.

As he finishes up the grave he has an idea. A dangerous and potentially deadly idea, one city that could work for him.

No. It's a bad idea. Walking back to the car to get what is left of his mothers body he tries to dismiss the option. His mother always insisted they never go near, no matter how desperate they got. She always said it was too close to Baltimore and his fathers territory. And it really is close.

But, he thinks,  it's also the only place he knows of that not even the butcher is willing to go. Carrying his mom’s body back to the grave he reconsiders.

It would be incredibly dangerous too. If he goes there he is likely to end up dead anyways, killed by one of the many villains or even just in a random act of violence. Thinking about how upset his mother would be if he ended up being killed, he gets to work on burying her. 

But if he is going to be killed, he would rather it be literally anyone other than his father or his men.

The more he thinks about it, he really doesn’t think there is a better option. Not until he is older and will be able to pass as an adult anyways. He knows that his mother would hate this. Would think him reckless, but she isn’t here anymore. He needs to do what he can with what he has and this is his best chance of avoiding his father.

As he scoops the final layer of sand over the grave he makes his decision. He is going to Gotham. 

[shieldedreams]

come with me (where you go i'll follow) (m.m.)

summary ⇾ minho's going on a journey of self-discovery over the summer... but he'd like to have you by his side details ⇾ 3,339 words / minho moon (xo, kitty) x female!reader / 🌸 a bunch of soft feels / a sprinkle of curse words / reader calls minho 'min' / kitty being the biggest shipper / reader shares a couple dorm with kitty only [!] spoiler disclaimer below the cut! + very stinking cheesy rom-com plot

[!] spoiler disclaimer: in an au where the roles of minho and kitty are somehow switched at the end of season two! (just a little!)

minho has had the million-dollar question in his head as the days count down in his mind to his departure for the summer break. more and more students begin to leave campus with luggages in tow; some askew, some perfectly wrapped and some... a work in progress whenever minho swings by your shared dorm with kitty (feigning the need to check on her only to constantly peep if you're anywhere near done packing or pry a little on your plans for summer).

today is the last day minho'll have that chance considering–"w-what? you're almost here?!" minho tries to keep his voice leveled, but with the way kitty gasps from the spot on her bed and the soft thud from the kitchen, she has an inkling of what's about to happen.

"yeah, sure," minho sighs, rubbing his face, "n-no, i haven't asked yet. i don't–"he groans–"okay, okay! i'll get to it now. give me at least thirty minutes!"

with one last sigh, he hangs up and now looks up to meet with kitty's eyes as she shakes her head.

"minho, you have to ask her now!"

"i don't know what you're talking about," minho clears his throat, stepping out of the kitchen but kitty scurries to get in his way, "minho!" she grabs his arm, giving him a good shake when he faces her with wide eyes.

"this is it," she grips onto his arm, "when will you ever get a chance like this again?"

the boy opens his mouth, only to find himself at a lost for words when he glances over kitty's shoulder to see your packed suitcase, ready for the leaving... and he has no idea where you're headed... but he'd like to be with you wherever that destination may be. that's what scares him. that despite the uncertainty... he's willing to take a chance on it with you.

but he has a bigger fish to catch when he doesn't even know what your plans are.

a bigger, bigger fish?

his flight leaves in an hour.

and it's not to say he left it down to the last minute but–

"c'mon, minho. you can do this," he mutters under his breath, shaking his hands dry as he turns off the faucet. clearing his throat, he tries to man up as he exits the bathroom and heads on out to the living room.

he stands a distance away, watching you play uno with kitty, q and yuri. there's occasional banter and the flicking of cards back and forth but just as minho's about to call for you, it seems like you're a step ahead when–"min!" you wave him over, "come play!"

the boy gulps, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shakily replies: "y-yeah, sure. in a second. but could you–"he clears his throat, "c-could i ask you something?"

that grants the attention of everyone in the room to look at his direction, following your line of sight as you watch him with a small smile. "of course. what is it?"

like a deer in headlights, he did not expect you to respond in that way, but now he looks back and realises he should have called you out to speak with him rather than ask in front of everyone. he tries to think of a way to get out of this situation, only for kitty to catch on to save minho's ass with: "oh! i think we were thinking of ordering pizza earlier,"

that seems to draw the crowd to kitty as she whips out her phone to order, even your attention is now on her. minho mouths a quick thank you, covey, only for kitty to snort and act invested in which pizza flavour to get. another time, minho thinks, now joining your side physically, and decision-wise in supporting which pizza toppings you wanted.

fast-forward to a couple of days later... this is it, now's the time, minho thinks. in the space of the kitchen where the two of you are alone (kitty gave him a heads up she'll only be back in an hour so now would be a great time), cups of warm tea in possession and him... being lost in the conversation with you as he always does makes him lose track of time.

maybe it was the way you always give him your undivided attention. with the things he's able to talk to you off the bat; the good, the bad, the things that keep minho up at night and you see him past all of the things that hold him captive. being in his father's shadow, drowning in his parents' wealth, his status–it all seems to strip to nothing to just... himself.

and you look at him like love is ever-present in him.

like it is in you.

he doesn't know how to bring it up or whether he can bring it up but when the door swings open, minho sighs when you giddily set your cup down to–"kitty! i got you something!"

the girl remains frozen as she watches you flee from the kitchen, grabbing something from your bag discarded on the floor next to the sofa. kitty turns the cheek to look at minho, who remains his head hanging low as he sinks so far down he might as well be glued to the kitchen counter. that alone gives her the answer that he probably has not asked you the important question and that brings you to–"minho!"

the boy blinks back to reality and kitty sees that. this reality where he minho hasn't manned up and at least give it a try, he's going to regret it for the next few weeks. he frantically fishes out his phone and–"she's not answering her phone!" minho yells. oh my god, he's yelling. he can't help it, the volume came out louder than he had intended but–"go find her! at least try!" kitty spins him around and gives him a nudge. minho can't think straight but his body kicks into overdrive as he dashes out of the room.

once he's out and the door slams behind him, he freezes on the spot. his heart is pacing so fast, he thinks he's about to pass out but... no. no, no, no. this can't be the way. not like this. minho keeps trying to dial your number as he starts going down the list of places you might be at.

library? no. cafeteria? not there either. in one of the classrooms you decide to linger around every now and then–fuck's sake, classes aren't even on anymore, why is he checking here?!

his feet reroutes him to the next best thing: out of the buildings and in the open where he can think of where to go to next. through it all, though, he keeps cursing himself in plenty colourful languages in his mind. the one that keeps repeating itself is: i can't believe i'm a fucking idiot!

his mind is haywire, nearly set on fire the entire time he's scouring the campus for a glimpse of you. he feels like the upper hands of the universe must be laughing at the turn of events. mocking him for his failure with each location he tries to go to only to no avail; left with the dust of loneliness when you're nowhere to be found. he curses under his breath, not knowing where the hell you are especially when you're not reachable through phone.

his feet brings him out of the buildings, through the flush greenery and–the familiar sound of his ringtone vibrates in his pocket. he frantically pulls it out and processes your name flashing across the screen. he manages to answer the call with trembling hands, only to be greeted with: "hey, min! sorry i didn't get to your calls. i didn't realise my phone was dead and i just plugged it into my power bank–"

"where are you, y/n?" minho cuts you off, almost feeling bad for doing so but he doesn't have much time. hell, he hasn't been keeping track of it just so it feels like he has more time to get to you.

he hears you chuckling, and he hates that at a time like this, he can't indulge in the feeling of making you laugh; be it intentional or not.

"turn around, min."

it takes the boy a second or two before he processes your words. he spins around once his mind registers your words and... and there you are. phone to your ear with your power bank plugged to it and... that stupid smile on your face that renders him breathless (including all that running he's been doing for the past ten to fifteen minutes).

his eyes soften at the sight of you, despite his heart doing somersaults because that was the effect you had on him. the power that makes his knees weak and... and...

"are you okay?" you snort, waving a hand in front of his face as you've shoved your phone into your bag, tilting your head at him. he's still catching his breath, heaving as the sweat trickles down his forehead. it seems to catch your attention when you use the sleeve of your sweater, lightly dabbing it to his forehead, "jeez, what were you doing? running a marathon?"

he answers truthfully: "i was looking for you."

"oh," you chuckle, retracting your hand to gesture it to yourself, as if to silently say well, you've found me.

"min," you call softly, swallowing thickly after, "i-is everything alright?"

minho doesn't know where to begin or how to begin. but with the countdown he has in his mind, he knows he has to start somewhere.

"i'm leaving," the words fly out of his mouth quicker than he can stop himself, and when he manages another deep inhale, he appreciates that you wait until he continues. "f-for summer, i'm following my family on the summer tour. my flight's in an hour."

"that's great!" was your immediate response, but when the seconds pass by and the longer you're staring into minho's eyes, it seems like there's more than meets the eye. "w-wait, is that not good? am i supposed to have another reaction?"

minho hates how you're hesitant to say anything further when the smile you have on your face is slowly fading. it's not that he doesn't want to smile, but it just feels like he can't. you see how minho's not returning your smile and something feels off. you can't put your tongue on it and it begins to near scare you but everything comes to a halt when you watch as minho puts his phone into his pocket so his hands are free to... reach for your hand.

he's gentle, as if any sudden movement will scare you away. you're trying to make sense of the situation when minho gives your hand a squeeze, cupping them in his hands as he builds the courage to look up to you, connecting your eyes once more.

"a-and i'd like it if you'd come with me."

he watches as his words sink into your system. how your eyes grow wide and your jaw hangs open but it doesn't look negative... yet. minho feels his heart racing; this could either make or break his summer. him knowing very well despite him going on the tour will unlock new sides to himself... he would love it if he got to spend it with you and just... exist in the world with you while experiencing new sides of the world. the thoughts alone has left him dreaming with a smile... and that's when he knew he wanted to try to make it a reality. to at least give it a shot and now, in this moment with you... he's well-aware it was a fifty-fifty chance.

and that was a chance he was willing to take.

"me? on the summer tour?" you glance down to your hand in his and gulp, blinking back up to him as the words try to formulate themselves: "is there something i'm not catching on here or–"minho's actions makes your words fall into themselves when he steps closer into your personal space bubble. he's... gentle with his advancements despite the urgency lacing his words. yet, the sudden movement doesn't make you back away.

if anything, you lean in when minho's closer to you.

"i... i know it sounds crazy but," he licks his lips, blinking down to the gap between your bodies because he doesn't know if he can look you in the eye as he says: "i wouldn't have anyone else to come with me if it's not you."

the silence is deafening; past the ruffles of the leaves that float on the ground. the low murmurs of passerbys and their footsteps padding away in the distance. the heavy breathing from minho, catching his breath from all the running and the anxiety biting at the back of his neck.

"what if i said no?" you try asking, not that it was your intention but it was a thought you let out loud. you watch as your question makes minho a little sad but he still manages a smile. bittersweet. "then i'd wish you a good summer break... and hope i'd still see you back here."

you nod slowly, your eyes gazing down to watch your hand in his both. you give his hands a squeeze and he reciprocates, still cupping your hand tenderly.

"and what if i said yes?"

those words alone sparked hope into minho's eyes, and you feel it when he tightens the grip out of his subconscious. he takes in a deep breath and exhales shakily, licking his lips before he says: "i can't begin to imagine what it would be like if you said yes. but for starters," he looks up to you, the glint in his eyes is what makes your heart race and calm at the same time–this unspeakable comfort that makes you know, no, feel that being with minho... feels right. "it would make me happy," he murmurs, lowering his eyes from yours to smile to himself, seeing how your feet goes between his feet due to the proximity, "very, very happy."

though it was sudden, though it was out of nowhere, you can't deny that in your heart, this... felt right. it scared you and makes you wonder of all the possibilities of what could go right, wrong but you know regardless of it all, not going with minho would be something you'd regret if you let this chance go. (plus, you didn't have much of a real plan of where to go for the summer anyway. so this was a big step ahead.)

"we have so much to unpack here," you chuckle, shaking your head as you grip onto minho's hand, feeling him return the gesture as he uses a hand to hold onto yours properly, the other cupping the back of the hand of yours he has captive.

"and we'll have time," he says, gazing up to your eyes with the kind of happiness that makes your heart swoon.

"my luggages are still in the dorm," you snort, just now realising they're in the corner of your dorm living room.

"not exactly," minho chuckles, using his eyes to point over your shoulder and you look over it to see kitty and q, out of breath, hunched over your couple of luggages as they try to keep themselves upright with a feeble thumbs up from a distance. you can't help but laugh at the sight before the feeling of minho holding your hand reels your attention back to him.

you watch as he gulps, his hands are beginning to get clammy and you know when minho's nervous. it wasn't your intention to keep him waiting but it's not everyday that someone just asks you to join them to tour several countries in less than an hour. it makes your heart race just thinking about it but... one thing's for certain that you need to clarify: "are you sure?"

minho can't help but laugh. he's been thinking about this for the longest time since he's made the decision to go on the summer tour alone. when the thought of you joining him became a possible equation, it's–"i've been right and wrong about a lot of things," minho murmurs, taking the brave step to lean his forehead onto yours, "but this..." he's already looking at you when you tilt your eyes up to meet with his, "this i'm certain of."

you let your eyes flutter shut with a soft exhale. minho feels the nervousness take over his system with each second that goes by and you don't say anything. then, he feels your fingers filling between his own. before he can bask in the feeling, before he can jump to his conclusions, you say a single word that makes his breath hitch.

"okay."

it's like radio silence. the only thing minho can hear is your voice that he has to be clear on this.

"o-okay?" he leans back, eyes widening with the flood of joy he can't contain when your smile grows first, before your eyes open and now the two of you are a pair of smiling idiots.

"yes, i would love to!"

minho lets go of your hand to pull you into his arms. you're surprised, but it's like your body and heart knows what to do when your arms welcome him in to wrap around his neck. you squeal when he spins you around; feeling him laugh against the side of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

the two of you are about to indulge in the feeling; being in each other's arms but–"i hate to be the bearer of bad news but minho, y/n, continue this at the airport!"

"oh, shit!" minho pulls away from you to let you know that–"the driver's here! we have to go!"

"what?!" is the only thing that comes out from your mouth, the shock renders you speechless that you've conveniently forgot that minho clearly mentioned flight's in an hour.

"hug, kiss, do whatever you want but later! get to the airport!" kitty's voice gives you the nudge you need. you barely have enough time to hug either kitty or q properly and say your goodbyes. minho's grabbing onto your hand, the other grabbing some of your bags and nudging you to do the same before you're left running to where his driver's parked.

from a distance, you can hear kitty and q squealing, but really, all you can focus on is the adrenaline fueling your veins with minho's hand in yours and occasionally glancing to his smile.

(("all of this feels surreal," your words come out in a mere whisper as your eyes drink in the details of the lavish seats; marble panels, the vast space between the seats and quite frankly, the lack of seats which makes everything feel more spacious. you hadn't realised you had said it out loud when you hear minho saying: "yeah, it does," while you're talking about the grandeur of it all, it seems like minho's talking about something else when you meet with his gaze. the warmth and excitement that radiates his pupils makes you smile, even more when you follow his line of sight down to between your bodies. he has his palm facing up, resting in the space between your bodies. his fingers are a little shaky as he lifts his hand up and rests it on your thigh, close to your knee. you try to be calm and collected but minho doesn't miss the way you press your lips together to avoid smiling too wide as you place your hand in his. his fingers fill the spaces between yours; like you were made for him to hold and he cherishes it. he gives your hand a squeeze before he decides to close his eyes. you do the same, only difference is that you scoot a little closer towards him to rest your head on his shoulder. he instinctively shifts lower to let you slot your head perfectly and minho's already smiling as he drifts away to sleep. knowing that the weeks ahead, the dream he has of you following him on the summer tour, is now a reality when he feels you close to him and the fingers of yours between his own.))