#I know this is very much old man yells at clouds and i just need to block but URGHHH. feels like a landmine going into any tags

[vicquemares]

If i see one more jean discourse post on here im going to. Well i am going to look away and block but also rip out my hair can we pleaseeeee just treat him like a little calico critter and put him in situations please. Yall used to love jv mitski web weaving

[alongtidesoflight]

in wake of yet another wave of people being turned off by windows, here's a guide on how to dual boot windows and 🐧 linux 🐧 (useful for when you're not sure if you wanna make the switch and just wanna experiment with the OS for a bit!)

if you look up followup guides online you're gonna see that people are telling you to use ubuntu but i am gonna show you how to do this using kubuntu instead because fuck GNOME. all my homies hate GNOME.

i'm just kidding, use whatever distro you like. my favorite's kubuntu (for a beginner home environment). read up on the others if you're curious. and don't let some rando on reddit tell you that you need pop! OS for gaming. gaming on linux is possible without it.

why kubuntu?

- it's very user friendly

- it comes with applications people might already be familiar with (VLC player and firefox for example)

- libreoffice already preinstalled

- no GNOME (sorry GNOME enthusiasts, let me old man yell at the clouds) (also i'm playing this up for the laughs. wholesome kde/gnome meme at the bottom of this post.)

for people who are interested in this beyond my tl;dr: read this

(if you're a linux user, don't expect any tech wizardry here. i know there's a billion other and arguably better ways to do x y and/or z. what i'm trying to do here is to keep these instructions previous windows user friendly. point and click. no CLI bro, it'll scare the less tech savvy hoes. no vim supremacy talk (although hell yeah vim supremacy). if they like the OS they'll figure out bash all by themselves in no time.)

first of all, there'll be a GUI. you don't need to type lines of code to get this all running. we're not going for the ✨hackerman aesthetics✨ today. grab a mouse and a keyboard and you're good to go.

what you need is a computer/laptop/etc with enough disk space to install both windows and linux on it. i'm recommending to reserve at least a 100gb for the both of them. in the process of this you'll learn how to re-allocate disk space either way and you'll learn how to give and take some, we'll do a bit of disk partitioning to fit them both on a single disk.

and that's enough babbling for now, let's get to the actual tutorial:

🚨IMPORTANT. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS ON A 32BIT SYSTEM. ONLY DO THIS IF YOU'RE WORKING WITH A 64BIT SYSTEM. 🚨 (win10 and win11: settings -> system -> about -> device specifications -> system type ) it should say 64bit operating system, x64-based processor.

step 1: install windows on your computer FIRST. my favorite way of doing this is by creating an installation media with rufus. you can either grab and prepare two usb sticks for each OS, or you can prepare them one after the other. (pro tip: get two usb sticks, that way you can label them and store them away in case you need to reinstall windows/linux or want to install it somewhere else)

in order to do this, you need to download three things:

rufus

win10 (listen. i know switching to win11 is difficult. not much of a fan of it either. but support's gonna end for good. you will run into hiccups. it'll be frustrating for everyone involved. hate to say it, but in this case i'd opt for installing its dreadful successor over there ->) or win11

kubuntu (the download at the top is always the latest, most up-to-date one)

when grabbing your windows installation of choice pick this option here, not the media creation tool option at the top of the page:

side note: there's also very legit key sellers out there who can hook you up with cheap keys. you're allowed to do that if you use those keys privately. don't do this in an enterprise environment though. and don't waste money on it if your ultimate goal is to switch to linux entirely at one point.

from here it's very easy sailing. plug your usb drive into your computer and fire up rufus (just double click it).

🚨two very important things though!!!!!!:🚨

triple check your usb device. whatever one you selected will get wiped entirely in order to make space for your installation media. if you want to be on the safe side only plug in the ONE usb stick you want to use. and back up any music, pictures or whatever else you had on there before or it'll be gone forever.

you can only install ONE OS on ONE usb drive. so you need to do this twice, once with your kubuntu iso and once with your windows iso, on a different drive each.

done. now you can dispense windows and linux left and right, whenever and wherever you feel like it. you could, for example, start with your designated dual boot device. installing windows is now as simple as plugging the usb device into your computer and booting it up. from there, click your way through the installation process and come back to this tutorial when you're ready.

step 2: preparing the disks for a dual boot setup

on your fresh install, find your disk partitions. in your search bar enter either "diskmgr" and hit enter or just type "partitions". the former opens your disk manager right away, the latter serves you up with this "create and format hard disk partitions" search result and that's what you're gonna be clicking.

you'll end up on a screen that looks more or less like in the screenshot below. depending on how many disks you've installed this might look different, but the basic gist is the same. we're going to snip a little bit off Disk 0 and make space for kubuntu on it. my screenshot isn't the best example because i'm using the whole disk and in order to practice what i preach i'd have to go against my own advice. that piece of advice is: if this screen intimidates you and you're not sure what you're doing here, hands off your (C:) drive, EFI system, and recovery partition. however, if you're feeling particularly fearless, go check out the amount of "free space" to the right. is there more than 30gb left available? if so, you're free to right click your (C:) drive and click "shrink volume"

this screen will pop up:

the minimum disk space required for kubuntu is 25gb. the recommended one is 50gb. for an installation like this, about 30gb are enough. in order to do that, simply change the value at

Enter the amount of space to shrink in MB: to 30000

and hit Shrink.

once that's done your partitions will have changed and unallocated space at about the size of 30gb should be visible under Disk 0 at the bottom like in the bottom left of this screenshot (courtesy of microsoft.com):

this is gonna be kubuntu's new home on your disk.

step 3: boot order, BIOS/UEFI changes

all you need to do now is plug the kubuntu-usb drive you prepared earlier with rufus into your computer again and reboot that bad boy.

the next step has no screenshots. we're heading into your UEFI/BIOS (by hitting a specific key (like ESC, F10, Enter) while your computer boots up) and that'll look different for everyone reading this. if this section has you completely lost, google how to do these steps for your machine.

a good search term would be: "[YOUR DEVICE (i.e Lenovo, your mainboard's name, etc.)] change boot order"

what you need to do is to tell your computer to boot your USB before it tries to boot up windows. otherwise you won't be able to install kubuntu.

this can be done by entering your BIOS/UEFI and navigating to a point called something along the lines of "boot". from "boot order" to "booting devices" to "startup configuration", it could be called anything.

what'll be a common point though is that it'll list all your bootable devices. the topmost one is usually the one that boots up first, so if your usb is anywhere below that, make sure to drag and drop or otherwise move it to the top.

when you're done navigate to Save & Exit. your computer will then boot up kubuntu's install wizard. you'll be greeted with this:

shocker, i know, but click "Install Kubuntu" on the right.

step 4: kubuntu installation

this is a guided installation. just like when you're installing windows you'll be prompted when you need to make changes. if i remember correctly it's going to ask you for your preferred keyboard layout, a network connection, additional software you might want to install, and all of that is up to you.

but once you reach the point where it asks you where you want to install kubuntu we'll have to make a couple of important choices.

🚨 another important note 🚨

do NOT pick any of the top three options. they will overwrite your already existing windows installation.

click manual instead. we're going to point it to our unallocated disk space. hit continue. you will be shown another disk partition screen.

what you're looking for are your 30gb of free space. just like with the USB drive when we were working with rufus, make sure you're picking the right one. triple check at the very least. the chosen disk will get wiped.

click it until the screen "create a new partition" pops up.

change the following settings to:

New partition size in megabytes: 512

Use as: EFI System Partition

hit OK.

click your free space again. same procedure.

change the following settings to:

New partition size in megabytes: 8000 (*this might be different in your case, read on.)

Use As: Swap Area

hit OK

click your free space a third time. we need one more partition.

change the following settings to:

don't change anything about the partition size this time. we're letting it use up the rest of the resources.

Use as: Ext4 journaling system

Mount Point: /

you're done here as well.

*about the 8000 megabytes in the second step: this is about your RAM size. if you have 4gb instead type 4000, and so on.

once you're sure your configuration is good and ready to go, hit "Install Now". up until here you can go back and make changes to your settings. once you've clicked the button, there's no going back.

finally, select your timezone and create a user account. then hit continue. the installation should finish up... and you'll be good to go.

you'll be told to remove the USB drive from your computer and reboot your machine.

now when your computer boots up, you should end up on a black screen with a little bit of text in the top left corner. ubuntu and windows boot manager should be mentioned there. naturally, when you click ubuntu you will boot into your kubuntu. likewise if you hit windows boot manager your windows login screen will come up.

and that's that folks. go ham on messing around with your linux distro. customize it to your liking. make yourself familiar with the shell (on kubuntu, when you're on your desktop, hit CTRL+ALT+T).

for starters, you could feed it the first commands i always punch into fresh Linux installs:

sudo apt-get update

sudo apt-get upgrade

sudo apt-get install vim

(you'll thank me for the vim one later)

turn your back on windows. taste freedom. nothing sexier than open source, baby.

sources (mainly for the pictures): 1, 2

further reading for the curious: 1, 2

linux basics (includes CLI commands)

kubuntu documentation (this is your new best friend. it'll tell you everything about kubuntu that you need to know.

and finally the promised kde/gnome meme:

[wilwheaton]

One very simple question :)

(Tv/comics)

Marvel. Or DC?

I have liked them both and disliked them both, at different points in my life, for a variety of reasons. At the moment, I'm not paying attention to them at all.

When I was a kid, I was all about Xmen and Fantastic Four from Marvel and, Batman and Justice League (Marv Wolfman's run in the late 80s) from DC. Never really cared for Superman. The 1967 Spider-Man was awesome as a cartoon, but I rarely read the comic book.

In the 70s, I was only allowed one comic per week, usually picked out from whatever was left on that spinning rack at the drugstore. So more often than not, I ended up with something like House of Secrets or House of Mystery or one of those horror anthologies that didn't need me to read the issues before or after, like the serialized superhero comics did. I got a lot of replay value from those books.

In the 80s, I had my own money and the ability to drive myself to comic conventions, and that's when I fell in love with Sandman, Watchmen, pretty much the entire Prestige Format that became Vertigo. I recall feeling like Marvel was for kids, then, and DC was serious. I was only 16, so take that for what it's worth.

But speaking of being 16, I'm gonna focus on Batman for a sec. I loved Batman 89, and I think all the efforts to make a Batman movie ever since have fallen short in ways I couldn't predict back then. It's gotten better with age and by comparison, for me. Michael Keaton is my favorite Batman, the way Christian Bale is my favorite modern Bruce Wayne (they both pale next to Pure. West. if anyone asks me).

The OG Batman series is maybe my favorite series of all time not called Star Trek or The Prisoner, and the 1966 movie is my favorite of all the Batman movies. Of course I love the animated series, and I get to be Blue Beetle in Brave and the Bold, so that's pretty awesome and its whole own thing.

Turning to the current moment, with rare exception, all the MCU and DCU movies do nothing for me. I thought I must have been missing something, so tried really hard to give them a chance to knock me out. I watched as many of the MCU movies as I could stand, and I just felt exhausted and bored by all of it, by the time I got to ... I can't even remember. Something with maybe Thanos and Ant-Man? I felt like it was a big, complicated mess of fan service and meetings that could have been e-mails, resulting in in a stew full of interesting ingredients that have all blended together into a flavorless paste. I do enjoy all the James Gunn movies, though, even if Chris Pratt is the worst Chris, because James always centers the characters and their conflicts, then uses the action and stunts to support the story.

I feel like a lot of this sounds harsh, but even Star Wars, my favorite movie when I was a kid, has grown into something I don't recognize or care about. I'm old. I know what I like and what I don't like. I'm not patient like I once was, and it's clear I'm not the person those studios want in the theatre, anyway. I could make that joke about how it's the children who are wrong, but I accept that I am not in the demo, and I am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the spectacle and the experience of seeing those films with an enthusiastic audience. I just won't be there with you, but you can find me in the parking lot, yelling at a cloud.

...wow that's a very big answer to a very simple question.

[simpingismylive]

His compass, Her home

Captain Jack sparrow x pirate f. reader

Captain Jack sparrow x you

Reader = you

+18

Warnings:

MY AU!!, ooc, not canon, reader is a pirate, reader has her own storyline, flirty reader, nicknames, make out, grief, angst, romantic, fluff, comedy, the usual pirate-stuff (violence, guns, swords, death sentence, murder, betrayal?-), cursing, maybe smut or seductive, alcohol, death, jealousy, revenge, (Tell me if I missed something!)

About:

Just like the tides, ebb and flow. Always finding each other. One can not be without the other. A compass of the sea and the best pirate there will ever be. Meant for each other by sharing the same fate.

You join Captain Jack's crew and sail on adventures together with him. What will your role be? What fate do you share? Will you be able to steal the best pirates heart? Or did he steal yours first?

~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~

(This is just my daydreams about a lovestory with captain jack sparrow written down. Nothing professional or canon. Hope you still enjoy! )

~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~

Prolog

(This will have more Chapters. Chapter 1 coming soon!)

~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~

Hey you! Yes you mate!! You who is reading this!!! Are you interested in tales? Yes? Let me tell you a good one~

~📖~📖~📖~

It starts in the middle of the sea. In a stormy night. The clouds as dark as they could be, thunder rolled through the sky, louder with every second, lighting struck, waves crashed as tall as mountains. The sea showed it's ugliest sides.

Yet a ship sailed through the tall waves. The heavy rain purred down on the blanks. Singing could be heard from inside the ship, not bothered by the heavy storm outside. A crew cheerful and drunk as they could be sang pirates songs. A man, a captain stepped on one of the tables. With that the room got quiet. He held his hands up high, holding a small baby, a girl in his tattooed hands. His face filled with pride but sorrow at the same time. "There you are! Your name is "reader"! My pride, my joy! My only most precious daughter! Born in this stormy night you will have a most interesting future ahead!", the captain said, holding you close to his chest.

The man, your father looked to his crew as he raised his cup, "Man, let's have a toast to my late wife and my new born child. She shall be raised under my watch, on this very ship. This was the last wish of my wife! And I shall honor it!", he said, tears in his eyes but having a grin on his face. The crew yelled, a few crying, a few to drunk to understand. This was your first moment in this world.

Since you could remember you lived the pirates live. Always out on sea, exploring islands. Your father teached you everything you needed to know. He teached you to fight with a sword from an early age one, letting you fight against one of the crew members daily, he teached you to use a gun. He was there when you made your first shot. Your father also made sure to teach you all tricks and wits, map reading, compass reading. Even tho somehow you never needed a compass to find your way home. Somehow you always knew where to go. It was weird.

Yet whenever you told your dad about it he just shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. You always thought he was mocking you so eventually you stopped bringing it up. You loved your father very much, he gave you everything you ever could ask for. The crew always called you 'the heart of the crew'. They were like a big happy family for you. You shared so many beautiful memories.

But alas...  this all had to end one day. One day before your 18th birthday EVERYTHING was taken from you....

It was a calm night. Almost to calm. And that worried you. You tried to tell your father but he never feared anything, so he just dismissed it. Maybe because he was fearless they had tracked him down. Ah, just a future thought of yours-

Your ship the "polar-sky", the ship you named when you had became 12 years old, sailed peacefully along some islands. Yes, your father gifted you an entire new ship on that you would sail in the future. He was truly the best dad someone could ever ask for.

Just as the polar-sky was about to sail around the corner you saw it! A ship! A ship hiding behind the montain. You panicked, you ran towards your father. Telling him what you saw. Looking into the direction of the ship, he yelled for the crew to get ready for a front-on fight. But your father looked serious. "Dad who are they? Are they dangerous?", you asked worried. Your father nodded while giving orders, then turning to you. Taking your hands while leading you to the middle of the ship. "Ay! This is Salazar! The pirate hunter! He is famous for killing pirates left and right, without reason, without mercy. There is no way to negotiate with him. A fight is impossible to avoid!", he explained, his hand caressing over your head, down your cheek. Back then you didn't really notice it but his eyes seemed to say so many unspoken words, even tho you had talked everyday. "You look just like your mother when you worried you know?", he smiled, but it was filled with something. Sorrow? Grief? Regret? You couldn't tell.

You thought your father was acting strange. "Dad whats going on?", you asked confused. Your father smiled at you, "I need you to hide in the crow nest! Don't come out! No matter what happens! Escape the ship as soon as you can! I need you do abandon the polar-sky and.. us!", he said, still smiling.

You couldn't process what he just said. "I can't do that! Dad I can't leave you! I'll fight just like the rest of the crew! You teached me to leave no one behind! Y-You said thats what sets us apart from other pirates!", you held onto his arm, hands shaking. "This is an order reader! Not as your father, but as your captain!", your father said strictly, he seemed angry. "F-Father-", you tried again. Stopping you, the man pulled you in a hug and spoke gently, "Your name is 'reader'! You're named after a star constellation. Your mother gave you that name. It translates to "-Compass of the Sea-"! It means that you were born for the sea! You will always find the right way!", he took one step back. Faint cries of crew members were to be heard. But that didn't matter right now.  "Reader! You are my pride and joy! Always have been! I teached you everything I know! You've already surpassed me! Here take this!", your father spoke as he gave you a necklace, hanging it around your neck.

"Your mother said it was to fight of evil. On the necklace lasts a spell. No one, that wants to harm you can ever touch you! Also remember: Don't ever betray the compass! You will find out what it means!", with that he pushed you up to the crow nest. You had tears in your eyes, while climbing up, you finally understood. That was it! Your dad knew there was no escape! Was he expecting this?

You hid in the crow nest like a coward. At least the dying screams and smell of blood and burning fire made you feel like one. But you had to honor your fathers last wishes.

You heard the last words of your father, "It's a pirates live for me capitan salazar!" and with that it was over. You saw how the dead body of your father fell to the floor. Biting your lip. You tried to calm your breathing. You looked at the necklace around your neck as you repeated, "It's a pirates live for me!"

Rubbing away the tears that streamed down your cheeks, you focused. You looked around. You had to escape from here! And then you saw it! A small empty boat swimming around in the sea, a bit farther away from the polar-sky. This is your chance! You stood up and took one of the broken ropes from the sails in your hands. Pulling a bit on it to make sure it was secure. Perfect! And with a deep breath you ran, clinging to the rope and jumped towards the boat. Swinging with the rope and letting go right before the boat. You landed in the sea, swimming towards the boat. Climbing onto it. Making sure to move as quickly as possible. Away. Away from the pirate hunters!

All of a sudden you saw something flying towards you. You thought it was a bulled so you almost jumped from the boat. Closing you eyes. But nothing happened. Carefully looking up, you saw a sheated sword flying infront of you. Like it's waiting to be taken.

"This is..", your fathers sword! Did it choose you? But currently wasn't the time to think about this! So you toke the sword in your hand, putting it in the boat next to you and got quickly back to your escape plan. Making use of the sudden rising fog. Which was quiet strange. Where did come from you had no idea. But it was usefull! You looked around and followed your feelings. And turns out it was the right decision!

A small island appeared in view. You needed to find another boat or ship. This small boat was way to easy to spot. And you were sure the pirate hunter saw you escaping. Without a doubt he was coming after you. Jumping of your boat you ran like crazy over the shore, keeping your eyes open for anything you could use. Than you saw it. A trade ship with barrels. Perfect! You had an idea! Making sure no one was looking, you emptied one of the barrels. Filled with wine before, now empty. A good hiding spot! And so you crawled inside. Now you just had to wait.

As you opened your eyes you heard the waves crashing. A smile formed on your lips. Seems like your plan worked. Carefully you opened the barrel, peaking out. It seemed like you were still sailing. Better to hide out here for a while and on the next stop you would leave. At least you thought so. But not even one hour later some loud noises were to be heard on deck. And than you heard it, "Find her! That pirate girl is here somewhere! The idiot on the island said so!". The damn shitty pirate hunter! What was his name again? Salamander? No.. Salsa? No thats a dance.. Mhh.. something with an S at the start! Well nevermind! Is he seriously already here??

You panicked. Crawling out of the barrel. An escape was needed quickly! It looks like you were in the lowest part of the ship. Carefully crawling to the small window you opened it. Looking out. Another ship was right next to this one. You double checked. It looked empty. No guards to be seen! You rolled your eyes and looked confused. Did they really leave their ship without someone to keep watch? Or was it a trap? But before you could think about it some more, you heard fast footsteps. Without waisting a second longer you closed the barrel again, making it seem like one of the others. After you climbed out the window, and jumped towards the rope on the other ship. With an 'ouff' you crashed against the other ship wall. Cllimbing upwards quickly. Quietly you landed on the deck. Looking around. It's really empty! What a risky move! You couldn't help but to question the methods of this so called famous "navy pirate hunter". Your dad would never have pulled such a stant-.. Ah your dad..

You swallowed hard and concetrated again on your surroundings. Cutting all the ropes off, the pirate hunters had laid out. Right after you made yoir way towards the helm of the ship. Steering it away. And it worked! Well, given this ship was a bit smaller than the polar-sky. And you used to often take over the helm on your old ship. Dad's teachings! You ran towards the sails and raised them. Looking at the sails you smiled, soon you would win on wind and then you were out of here!

Before you could celebrate a voice shouted through the air. Salazar looked at you in disbelieve. You waved and grinned,"I'll just borrow your ship a bit alright captitan? Thank you and adiou~", you waved as you sailed away. Thanks to the wind you were out of there quickly. Under deck you found a bunch of maps, taking all of them with you and a few gold you managed to find, you stopped at the next town. First a change of clothes should be in order and then stocking up on food should be next in line!

~📖~📖~📖~

And how did you like this tale mate? Are you curious how your story will continue? But no can't do. It's not Chapter 1 yet. Only the prolog~

I KNOW! How about I give you a glimps into the future? Shall we see what the people, captain jack & you, will meet in the future think of you both? Or 'will' think of you both? It may gives you a hint to your realtionship with this handsome captain jack~

All these moments are from the future and will happen in upcoming chapters! Savey?~

~📖~📖~📖~

Gibbs: Reader once asked me, "Mr Gibbs do you think that jack will leave me too one day?". And I only laughed out loud. Which uhm.. I do apologize for.. it was rude of me! I answered her, "Leave you?! By my soul jack would rather sell his compass and the pearl before he would EVER leave you. It would be like leaving his rum!"

Gibbs: Reader, the most loyal to Captain Jack Sparrow. Always by his side and always on his side! Even if everyone turns against him. Not her! Never her! We abandoned the ship and jack stayed back for the kraken. Reader refused to leave, she said: "The capitain sinks with his ship and a compass sinks with her home". I realised- jack wasn't just a captain to her but a home, an anker in the dark sea. In the end jack hugged her close just to push her from the ship into the sea, saving her from the kraken! These two.. giving a man a headache and a heartbreak!

Will: As reader helped me break jack out of prison. I asked her, "Why go through all the trouble? Why not sail under another captain?". She got mad at me and yelled without a hint of doubt in her voice, "I'll only ever sail under one captain! The best one there is! And that is Captain Jack Sparrow!". Also because of her we almost got caught!!-

Will: I asked jack a long time ago, "Why betray you crew like this?". And he calmly answered, "Pirates betray each other all the time that doesn't change the bound you share my boy". But as I asked, "So would you betray reader like this as well?", and jack raised his pistol against me in light speed. Pressing it to my neck. "SHE is OFF LIMITS! Savey?!!", he added. I just quickly nodded and he let me go. That hurt you know?!

Elizabeth: They share the same energy. But also a similuar charisma & charm! "Why is the rum gone?", jack asked me once. A while later reader asked me, "What happened to the rum?Why is it gone?". Another time jack flirted with me, well he tried- " Darling~.. did you ever think of wearing.. less?". Just as I was about to turn him down reader continued by saying, "He is right, these clothes would look better on the floor~". Jack answered laying an arm around reader, "ay you understand me so well love~" and reader just winked back at him. They are really cute actually hehe~

Elizabeth: There was a time I-I.. I thought reader would hate me forever.. I did a horrible thing! I hurt her deeply!-  We sat in the boat as we watched jack going down with the kraken. Reader jumped overboard and started swimming towards the land. As Will asked her what she was doing, she glared at me, a gaze I never had seen before. A scary one. "I'd rather not sit in a boat with a traitor! Who knows maybe she will sacrifice me next?!", with that she turned away. It hurt. We used to be friends. Luckly she forgave me..

Callypso: "How can I save jack? What prise do I have to pay?", reader came to me in secret, asking me about jack. Her eyes determinded, a set course in them! I remember smiling and placed my hand on her still beating heart. "Are you ready to face death? On his side you will be in deaths eye all the time-" "Yes! I'll face everything I have to! If the glass of dirt can't protect jack, I will!" I've only seen such resolve once. True Love. "Follow your heart, your course is already set! Your love can still save him! You have everything you need, 'reader- compass of sea'!", those words I told her.

Callypso: As we found jack and he walked to us. He seemed to have doubts to how real we were. But reader just straight up dashed towards him. Pouncing on him like a wild beast. Just to hug him and hold him tight. Tears falling down her face, " Y-Your compass found it's way back to you jack!", reader sobbed. It hurted even me, seeing her like that. It reminded me of something.. Nevermind! To everyones suprise jack hugged reader back. Clinging to her. "And I brought your home right back ay?", jack answered pointing his head towards the black pearl. It wasn't suprising to me, since the compass never betrayed jack!

Davy Jones: I tought of her as a naive brat who held useless human emotions! But I admit that 'the compass' as her father liked to call her is quiet strong. I knew her father- A poor excuse of a pirate but he never feared anything! Not even death! His daughter is the same! She had the guts to start a fight with me and kept up. "Mess with Captain jack, mess with me!", she yelled. Still if sparrow hadn't shown up the victory would've been mine! 

Davy Jones: As this 'turner' took my place and killed me. Sparrow when asked why he didn't take my place said, "Can't become immortal witout bringing my compass along savey?". Guess he does have some.. morals?

Blackbeard: The 'compasse's' Father and me both have daughters that make us proud. To bad angelica and reader don't seem to get along very well. I threatend jack to take me to the fountain. If not I'd burn his puppet and him. When this brat stabbed her sword into my hand and yelled, "STOP!! I WON'T LET YOU HURT JACK!". In her eyes not the slightest fear. I was impressed. Rarely I see pirates who are worth enough to let them  live after they hurt me. But I still needed her. Sparrow is nothing without his compass after all!

Blackbeard: Sparrow is a coward. He sacrifces everything and everyone if it saves his skin. At least thats how it always was. I demanded reader to jump from a cliff for us, yet sparrow pushed her behind him and stepped infront of me, " I say we play a game. The loser will jump. What say you? Just me and you?". It took me quiet by suprise.

Angelica: Jack likes her! It's obvious as daylight. And I can see why.. As I pretended to be captain jack sparrow I flirted with reader in a rather sensual manner. But she called my bluff right then and there. "You're NOT jack! He wouldn't use that cheap flirting on me! Tell me, who are you?", she said. I couldn't believe it. There wasn't one pretty woman jack , that handsome asshole wouldn't talk into his bed. Reader started a fight with me and beat me in the end, "As I thought! Jack always dodges that attack!", she smirked down at me victiorously. Fair.. i guess!

Angelica: I tried to warn her. Not to ever confess her feelings to jack. I told her he would leave her just like he had me. I told her I wanted him to stay by my side. I deserve it, he stole my innocent years from me! Reader just smiled and said, "Good luck if you manage to steal him away! I'll have the sea all to myself! I'll be the best captian of the sea! Can't wait to see that~", she laughed and walked away. This responds wanted me to explode from rage. How dare she? Isn't she scared?

Angelica: I asked reader, "Do you love jack?". Reader smiled, a bright, precious, so incredible pure smile, "Yes I do love jack!", she answered so honestly, so proudly. "I love him too! We once had a.. thing, a bound you kniw? I thought he loved me.. but than he left me! So don't trust him to much!", I said. Trying to warn her again. I was expecting her to cry, to get jelaous, mad even, but reader just.. took my hand and kissed it gently with her lips, "I'm sorry someone pretty as you deserves better mrs. angelica~". It was charming, the same charm that got me to fall for jack back then.

As she took a step back, bringing distance between us she continued, "I do love jack! But.. my first love will always be the sea!". What a naive answer.. I thought back than. Until jack dropped me of on a lonely island. Leaving me again. I asked him, "Will you leave 'reader' like this too?", " Never!", came jack's answers right after out of his mouth. "Do you love 'reader'?", I asked, my last question as he sailed away. First I got no answer. Thinking he was ignoring me. Damn asshole!! But then jack turned around one last time, "Yes I do.. BUT my first love will always be the sea!". Jack also told me he loved me before. Even tho, his smile was never so beautiful when he did...

Henry: "You here to save jack sparrow right?", reader approached me first. I nodded and asked her who she was, "I'm a old friend of your parents. Jack is my capitain. I'll help you save him but you need to help me convince the rest of the crew, savey?!", she smirked. So I gave in! Reader is truly a good soul!

Henry: Jack almost got married. But reader saved the day. And barbossa of course! "He is already married to me! See? Are you really going to break our destined bound? We are like and ebb and flow ay?", reader said while proudly holding up a ring . A ring I stole from one of the woman earlier- Ehh nevermind that. " Y-Yes I am married! Can't go against it alright??", jack agreed?! Woah he is down bad huh-

Carina: The dumbest but smartest couple I've ever and will ever meet! They finally found a way to free the ship from the bottle. "She..got smaller", jack said looking at toy-form pearl. "Or maybe we just got bigger?", reader said and jack nodded in agreement. "I guess she is cold huh?", jack asked, "Give her your jacket she will feel warmer", reader said. Jack was about to take of his clothes as my father, barbossa threw it in the sea. But the pearl didn't came back up right away. "She was a fine ship", jack looked sad, "Wahh I'll miss you black pearly", reader whined and sobbed. These two are A LOT-

Carina: Jack asked, "Has anyone see my bank?", "with money inside?", reader added on. Also I don't know how reader can be so accepting of jacks shamless, flirty acts. Thats what I thought. Until I got to know her better. " Don't stop, don't let us stop you", jack smirked at me as I was about to jump into the water. I looked at reader hoping she would control her lover. But reader just looked at jack and smirked, "Charmer can't you just strip too?". Jack let out a chuckle, "Not here love but tonight I might-".  "ENOUGH! Get a room!", I said annoyed.

Gipps: I just remembered! Reader was so jealous of the woman in the bank with jack. But she denied it. She pouted the entire night and morning. "Are you mayhaps jealous? You look very gloomy today?", I asked her. "No! It's not like we're married! He can do whatever he wants!", reader pouted. That continued until I said to her, " You mean like useing other woman for his plans and then forgetting their names? Reader, I promise you there is no woman in the world that holds a candle to you when it comes to jack! He doesn't even remember when we first met. But he knows when YOU TWO FIRST met! The day! The year! Even the exact time! I'm so jelaous..", I wanted to comfort her but ended up beeing the pouty one. But with that reader laughed again. So it was for a good reason right?

Barbossa (Hector): We go all the way back! Before Jack was the captain of the black pearl! Reader was part of the crew! They used to flirt even back then. It was a test for my eyes and my nerves! She was always so loyal to jack. And as he became the captain of the black pearl, people called her "his second in command". Also she is the only one who managed to escape from me! Twice! I hold respect in regards of her wits and her strength. She wanted her revenge on me for leaving jack at this lonely island. Well.. in the end jack got his revenge and reader forgave me. Reader also helped me talk to my daughter. I owe her thanks for that!

Barbossa (Hector) : Listen to me! NEVER! EVER! Let them escape or fight together! I'm speaking out of experience.. It's your worst nightmare! Seperate them or experience your downfall! But that damn compass always comes back to jack anyways soo nevermind!- Remember jacks epic escape from the king and the guards? Guess who is the only one that can keep up with him and has helped him? Jail breaks? Guess who helped him? Geting the rum back? Guess who helped? Reader..! Also their chaos energy is to just much! It gets on my nerves-

Salazar: Wonderfull isn't it?! The filthy pirate who took everything from me and the damn compass-girl who's escape became worldwide known and embarrassed me, are a couple?! Fate must really be mocking me! I thought my luck had come back as sparrow gave away the compass. But thats when I realised he has another compass, right by his side. And sparrow would never betray it.

Salazar: Her father, a fearless but fearsome man. A pirate that everyone respected! Smart, strong, a trustworthy leader. Everything I wanted to be. So I went and took that everything from him. But his daughter escaped. And once I had everything, sparrow took everything from me! And then jack had everthing I wanted to have! Reader battled me for her revenge, strong as she may be she had no chance against me. I pointed my sword against her neck and she smiled at me, " It's a pirates live for me salazar", she said. The same exact fearless words as her pirate father. This damn family! But before I could do anything jack grabbed my sword and pointed it at him, pushing reader behind him. The compass panicked and sparrow pointed towards the poisidon trident. Thats when sparrow smirked at me. I realised my sword was in his chest but I couldn't move it. In that momemt reader grabbed her sword and cut through the trident. In the same moment jack pulled the sword out and thrusted it into my heart. Not that it mattered cause I'm undead- I was alive? I felt pain? But jack wasn't done with just that, he made sure I died. "Pirates live ay?!", he smirked and looked back at reader. She wanted her revenge and jack got her that revenge!

~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~❤~🖤~

(Thank you for reading! Chapter 1 coming soon! Hope you liked it! 💜)

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 3

Hello! If you haven't seen it yet, I've got a set schedule for what story posts on what days now (as seen here) and this one as well as Well Met By Moonlight, Batshit Soulmates, and Never Hold Back Your Step... will still be posting just on rotation until I can finish some of my WIPs. (I may be stretching myself a bit thin having six going at the same time.)

In this one we have the concert. Eddie stumbles on something big and doesn't know how to deal with it all. And Uncle Wayne is bestest as always.

@emly03 @redfreckledwolf @itsall-taken @rozzieroos @mira-jadeamethyst

Part 1 Part 2

****

The day of the concert dawned abhorrently cheerful and bright. Not a cloud in the sky or any accidents that would prevent Eddie from having to take Dustin to this event. He wouldn’t deign to call it a concert. He had heard the album and seen their posters, but he refused to wander over to YouTube and watch videos of their concerts, interviews, their music videos.

He didn’t want to be even more disappointed that they were all flash and no substance then he was sure he was going to be for the next two hours.

Dustin rolled his eyes when Eddie parked in the huge concert parking lot.

“You’re just salty because I like them as much as I like Corroded Coffin,” he huffed getting out the car. “You have to concede that Abaddon’s vocals are killer.”

Eddie scoffed. “Do not. I haven’t heard them live. Way too many artists use autotune too much these days.”

“You sound like that meme,” he sneered, “‘Old Man Yells at Cloud’.”

Eddie swatted at him playfully. “Am not.” Dustin raised his eyebrow skeptically and he threw his arms in the air. “I’m not. I am a very serious musician, Dusty. The last thing metal needs is some band that can’t write or even play their own instruments. This isn’t pop.”

“You are such an asshole,” he said and turned toward the entrance, leaving Eddie to jog to catch up with him.

Eddie sighed and put his arm around Dustin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I am being an asshole. I turned into the person I swore I would never be. Those shit for brains critics that hated Corroded Coffin when we first got on the scene. And that was wrong of me.”

Dustin sighed, too. “I just want you to like them too. They are so good if you’d just give them a chance.”

Eddie breathed out through his nose. “Yeah. I can at least give them that.”

They got to their seats and Eddie was a little impressed at Claudia Henderson’s Ticket Master foo. They weren’t front row, but they were only a couple of rows back so you could actually see the stage without having to strain their necks and smack dab in the center of the row.

Dustin would have the best time. And now it was up to Eddie not ruin it for the kid. Because yes, he was still a kid as far as Eddie was concerned. Twenty-one was so fucking young. That was how old most of the band was when they got their record deal, after all. They weren’t prepared for what came next, that’s for sure.

They got settled into their seats and Eddie watched as the rest of the crowd shuffled in. They were all about Dustin’s age with very few exceptions in either direction.

There seemed to be a color theme going on with the girls in the audience though. They were grouped in clumps of red, black, blue, or white. Which made sense if each band member stuck to a certain color palette.

Well he was about to find out, he supposed.

The lights dimmed. The crowd quieted down. The spotlight lit up the drumkit first. And Eddie knew that Gareth would be drooling over it. It was all black with black metal fittings. The kit seemed to collect light almost like a blackhole.

Then from the ceiling, a man dressed all in black being lowered onto the stage with large black raven wings on his back. He wore a black hooded coat over what, Eddie couldn’t tell. It was all black. The shirt, the pants, the boots. Even his mask was all black with even the eyes appearing closed. His feet touched the ground and the crowd went wild.

“Azrael!” the announcer called out.

Azrael settled on the throne and picked up black drum sticks.He counted time above his head and played a wicked solo to the adoring crowd’s absolute delight.

Dustin jumped up and down, screaming.

The spotlight moved to the right side of stage and the next band member descended from the ceiling. Large bat wings adorned his back and he was dressed in red leather fetish gear. Complete with tight leather pants that looked painted on and a matching harness highlighting his bare chest, peeking out from the red leather hooded coat.

His guitar was fucking gorgeous, though. A Warlock, much like Eddie’s own. It was custom painted red with black flames licking up the neck.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but it seemed he was the only one who thought the whole thing was over the top judging from the screams from the girls in the audience.

He didn’t just land gently on the stage like the drummer did, oh no. He fucking stomped onto the stage with a howl.

His wings, like the drummer’s ascended back into the rafters as the announcer shouted, “Asmodeus!”

And then Eddie really did roll his eyes. The demon of lust. Of course he was.

But seconds later Eddie’s jaw dropped to the floor as the man wailed on his guitar driving the crowd further into the frenzy.

Once he finished his solo the crowd quieted again and he could see why. Because just then, descending on gossamer wings that shimmered like starlight, was their bassist.

Everything about him was midnight blue and shimmering like the night. His mask was the face of the moon. He had his own hooded coat, but it was like the night sky, with some kind of crystal or gem sewn in to make the coat glimmer like stars.

His bass was something that Brian would have sold his own mother for and they were as thick as thieves. Eddie didn’t know much about basses considering his sweetheart was an electric guitar, but he could tell it wasn’t expensive but was perfect for his style. A style he showed off with gusto to the audience’s obvious delight.

“Astraeus!” the announcer cried.

Eddie decided that this one was his favorite. It played up the whole mysterious thing without the over the top flash of the guitarist or the sheer void of the drummer.

The audience hushed as the three members of the band began to play what was clearly the lead singer’s entrance music.

And holy fuck was Eddie screwed. This man was descending like a fucking angel sent from God, Jesus pose and all.

He was all in white with an opaque lace mask that had his mouth and chin cut out for him to sing. That surprised Eddie somewhat. He figured that the guy would have his whole face covered like everyone else in the band and that he could lip sync.

But nope. Apparently no one in this band did anything by halves.

The lead singer was wearing a sheer mesh crop top under the hooded floor length coats the whole band was wearing. Only his was white with a silk powder blue lining.

Eddie winced in sympathy. They must get boiling under the lights with those things on.

A few feet from the stage floor there was an explosive pop! And the feathers from his wings flew out into the crowd who was now screaming as if their life depended on the sheer volume coming out them. He looked over at Dustin who was no different.

When Eddie could see the stage again, this angel’s wings were now skeletal and gothic.

He landed in front of microphone whose stand had been decorated with a scarf in each of of the band members’ signature colors.

“Abbadon!” the announcer yelled for the final time.

And Eddie was in love. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Dustin must have seen his expression because he was suddenly tugging on Eddie’s arm and screaming, “I told you!!”

“Indy!” Abbadon growled, grabbing the mic. “Thank you so much for having us! Let’s get this started.”

Then he began to sing and yeah, Eddie knew that the guy had charm, but this was a whole new level of epic. He was enthralled.

He didn’t utter a fucking word for several songs. But then it happened. Eddie couldn’t believe it. He hurried to snap a picture to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

But there it was it in living color. He turned to Dustin to see if he saw it too, but the kid was too busy screaming and jumping up and down.

Eddie’s jaw fell.

That couldn’t be right, couldn’t it? That Dustin didn’t know? Eddie looked back up on stage and a lot of the puzzle pieces started slotting in place. His heart sank a little.

He shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts. He didn’t know the reason for any of this and leaping to conclusions would only get a shit ton of people hurt. Especially the boy next to him.

Eddie let the music wash over him. Let the magic of metal soothe his soul. Soon he was jumping up and down and headbanging with the rest of the crowd. Right hand flashing the devil’s horns, left hand out to steady himself he let himself enjoy the band’s stage presence.

****

To say that Eddie’s mind was fucking blown would be an understatement. He pestered Dustin all the way home with rapid fire questions. Where did the band tour last time? What was their schedule this time? Was it a six month tour or an eighteen month tour last time?

Dustin answered each question with growing excitement, thinking that Eddie had finally grown to love this band as much as he had.

Eddie on the other hand felt a growing sense of dread. Well... maybe dread was the wrong word. It was certainly a sinking feeling. One he really had to exam closely.

At least he could honestly say that he fell in love with the music before he found out his little secret.

And fuck what a secret it was.

He dropped Dustin off at home and drove out to the ranch that he had gifted to Wayne when Corroded Coffin first made it big. It was a beautiful, sprawled out home surrounded by acres of land and Eddie loved it even more than Wayne did.

Eddie stumbled through the door and was surprised to see Wayne drinking hot chocolate and reading a sports magazine in his expensive recliner. And yet, at the same time, not really that surprised.

“You do realize I’m no longer that fucked up kid with anger issues,” Eddie huffed on his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, “that were almost as bad as the troubles with the law, right?”

Wayne chuckled. “Maybe so. But you’re still my boy and I’ll keep worrying about you until the day I die.”

Eddie popped open the can of beer and sat down on the sofa. He leaned his head back on the back cushion with a heavy sigh.

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “What’s stewing around in that head of yours?”

Eddie slowly raised his head. “What would you do if you accidentally found out something about a friend that they were keeping from everyone they knew?”

Wayne set down his magazine. “That would depend on the secret. Is it hurting anyone?”

“Is what hurting anyone?” Eddie asked. “The secret?” Wayne nodded and Eddie frowned, really thinking about it.

“Maybe some feelings,” he said after a moment. “But it’s not dangerous like they committed a crime or anything. It’s not even about their sexuality.”

Wayne hummed thoughtfully. “And is it a big secret or a little one?”

Again Eddie was forced to think hard about what that meant. “I guess it depends on the person, but in my eyes it’s pretty big.”

The elder Munson nodded. “Do you feel hurt by this secret?”

“Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.” He bowed his head and let out a shuddering breath.

“Is there a reason you think he wouldn’t have told you?” Wayne pressed.

“Of course no–” Eddie stopped as his brain caught up to his mouth. “Shit.”

Wayne raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Eddie admitted shyly. “There’s a pretty good reason why he wouldn’t have told me. And now I feel like the shit friend.”

Wayne stood up and pulled Eddie into a big hug. “Maybe so, but you have the time to course correct and show this friend that you are worthy of his secret.”

Eddie nodded. “Thanks, Uncle Wayne,” he mumbled into Wayne’s neck.

“I’m just glad I could help.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[roostersbby69]

0.9 | For old times sake

Summary: Bradley hasn’t gotten any action with his wife. They didn’t have kids, not because of their jobs, but because she just didn’t want to anymore. Bradley had a very high sex drive, and his maid that his wife hired might just give him a memory refresh of how good sex is.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x maid!reader

For old times sake masterlist. Full masterlist.

You felt like you were wrapped in a huge, warm, cloud when your mind woke up the next morning.

The stupid dorm bed you had didn’t compare to what this was, it was warm, soft, it wrapped around you and made a smile creep its way up to your lips.

You moaned and turned over to your side and peeked one eye open to see cream colored walls and a night stand with a tall lamp on it.

You sat up and moved the hair from your face to realize you had no clothes on, you pulled the blanket over your chest as footsteps walked towards the room.

Shit, you had sex with Mr. Bradshaw last night. Shit.

Worried that it was Mrs. Bradshaw, you hurried and covered yourself as the door opened to reveal Bradley walking in with a glass of water in his free hand.

“Shit.” You sighed and clutched the blanket tightly.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He apologized and made his way to you, he set the glass down and sat on teh edge of the bed beside your sleepy form.

“No,” you shook your head, “Why didn’t you though? Where’s your wife?”

He laughed ad moved a piece of hair away from your face, “She didn’t come back last night, which is fine, I know where she is. Ive got things under control.” He explained.

You nodded your head and sighed, “Do you regret last night?” You finally met his eyes and hugged yourself under the covers.

He shook his head and sighed, “I should, but I don’t.”

This made you smile, he was right, it is wrong to have sex with a married man. But something was different in this situation. “I don’t regret it either.”

“I’ve got to run an errand today. I hate to leave you, honey, but I have to go do something.”

You nodded, respectfully, and sat up. “I need to run by my pen and finish up my last essay, graduation is in a couple weeks.” You said as you grabbed your clothes and slipped them on.

He watched you and sipped the glass, nodding his head. “When do you come back to clean?”

You hummed and thought for a second, “Tuesday.” Today was Sunday, and you agreed to come every other day.

Bradley stood up, barely listening now, and wrapped his hands around your hips. He turned you to face him and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, you smiled at him and laughed as he placed another one on your other cheek.

“Ive got to go, honey.” He whispered as he kissed your neck.

“Then go.” You laughed and pulled him away from you.

He smirked and admired you for a second before lifting you up into his arms and turning you to the bed, “Now how can I do that when I’ve got the sexiest woman in my room right now?”

You laughed as he plopped you onto the bed and crawled over your frame, “You’re too much.”

“But you can take me anyways.” He smirked, cheekily, as he dipped down and kissed your collar bone softly.

His fingers came and tickled your thighs causing you to smile and reach down to pull the white sheet over the two of you to muffle your laughter.

-

Bradley pulled into Phoenix’s driveway and honked the horn. He sat for a second and pulled his aviators down his nose and honked another time.

He watched as she exited the house with a donut in her mouth, a computer under her arm, and a scowl on her face.

“Shut the fuck up! I’m coming you little shit!” You took the donut out of her mouth and yelled.

He laughed and leaned over to open the door for, “Good morning to you too.”

She sat in the seat with a sigh and threw her computer in the back, “It’s too early for this crap.”

“Someone had a rough night.” He looked back and reversed out of the driveway.

“Shut up,” she mumbled and rubbed her tired eyes as she bit into the donut, “So, what’s this about?”

Bradley rested one hand on the door and set his chin in it, “I’m, uh, getting divorce papers today.”

Phoenix threw her arms in the air and hollered, “Thank God! I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second you brought her to the grill out at Bob’s! ”

It was true, the grill out at Bobs was a total nightmare. He wanted to introduce her to the dagger crew but she could honestly care less that day for some reason. He tried and tried to make her feel comfortable around new people, but she just sat on the couch and when one of them tried to make conversation, she was just as blunt as ever and barely talked back.

Bradley rolled his eyes and smiled behind his hand, “Don’t get too excited.”

“Have you told Y/n?”

“No, not yet. Hell, Isabelle doesn’t even know. I caught her the other day with a guy.”

“Oh shit,” she hissed, “let’s go get them papers and some tequila, it’s going to be a long week.”

“You’re right about that.”

“So where is she?” Phoenix asked as she dusted the donut icing off of her fingers.

“Y/n is back at her dorm, she’s got graduation in a couple weeks. She said she needed to go finish up an assignment.”

She nodded, “That’s nice.” She turned to him and smirked, “But I wasn’t talking about her.”

“Oh,” Bradley’s face heated up and he rubbed his neck, “right, Isabelle, I don’t know. She comes and goes as she pleases. She doesn’t really tell me where she goes anymore.”

“Of course she doesn’t.” She scoffed and looked out the window.

Bradley couldn’t do it anymore, all the years of waiting and trying to have a good relationship with her wasn’t worth it anymore. She didn’t care about him, and he tried too hard for her.

Today was the day he would end that long road, he didn’t want any trouble, or to be petty, he just wanted to get away. And hopefully start something new with you.

“I don’t know, Nat, Y/n makes me feel like… all warm inside. She’s just everything I’ve ever wanted, my mom would’ve loved her. They would’ve gotten along so well together. She reminds me so much of her I can’t stop thinking about it. Isabelle isn’t the kind of person my mom hoped I would end up with.”

Phoenix watched as he went on and on about all of your best qualities with a smile on both of their faces. She had never seen him so delicate when talking about a girl. Bradley was older and had been on his fair share of dates and relationships, but she could tell by the tone of his voice and the smile on his face that you really outdid the others.

“Hey, you should invite her to Hangman’s cookout on Thursday.”

“I don’t know, that might be a bad idea.” He rubbed his neck and thought it over. He can’t move on this quickly from his wife.

“Well, just think about it. You’ve got four days. I think it would be nice.”

He hummed and continued to drive down the road towards the court house.

-

You hummed to the music that played on your computer as you brushed your hair. You looked down to change a song when an email popped up, you smiled when you saw it was Mr. Bradshaw’s.

Your smiled immediately dropped as did your stomach as you read it.

I will ruin your college reputation if you come between me and my husband. I know what happened two years ago and if you think I won’t spill it then think again.

Your face lost all of its color and you dropped the hairbrush onto the floor with a clatter.

—————————————————————

Part 1.0

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[nestarcheronmommy]

One thing that really strikes me about Nesta is that she is a calm person. Even though she reacts badly to bad things that are said to her (as I think most people do), she never breaks certain boundaries, she never yells, she never becomes violent. And the fact that she is so calm despite all the hate and anger she has inside, makes me think it is an indication that she is right.

Rhysand, on the other hand, turned into a demon and couldn't control his rage when Nesta told Feyre about the pregnancy. I mean, a 21 or 24 (I can't remember) year old woman has more control over her temper than a 500 year old ruler.

I also want to point out something we all already know but still, and that is how Nesta has never used anyone as a sex object, never kissed or spied on anyone naked without their consent, never locked anyone up against their will, never fucked while people who needed her and who were her responsibility were dying. Rhys has done all this and more and yet his ego is higher than where he fucks with Feyre in the clouds while Nesta hates herself and is incapable of seeing all the good things she does.

To clarify: Rhys does a lot of bad things and he thinks he's better than Nesta. Nesta does a lot of good things and thinks she's the worse just because of her language. Spoiler, it's actually the opposite.

Cassian is much much older than her and while Nesta is calm and doesn't get physically violent, Cassiand destroyed an entire village, Cassian couldn't help but get furious when a woman (Nesta) rejected him, which is a pretty major red flag. I think we're all mature enough to know a woman doesn't owe anything to a man, specially when that man just gave lingerie to another "friend".

This Nesta woman who is in her 20s has more control over her rage than 300 or 500 year old faes. Yes, it's true that she's very edgy, that she overreacts, but she's the only one who respects boundaries, she doesn't force anyone to do anything they don't want to do, she doesn't meddle in their business while others always meddle in her life.

When a person has as much rage and as much hate inside her as Nesta does and is more capable of controlling her violence than Rhysand or Cassian are, call me crazy but I think it means that Nesta is much more mature than these two.

[secondarysefikura]

What was Aerith’s relationship with everyone?

Took me a brief second to realize you meant the sefikura child au lol. I was really confused for a moment. This one is a bit long so I'll put a split here.

Cloud: Growing up, she has a good, strong relationship with her 'dad.' While he can be a bit weird and distant at times, she loves spending time with him. He often teaches her life skills such as basic mechanics or how to control her strength.

When she gets older and finds out that her dad is really her mom, the relationship gets a bit strained. She holds some resentment towards him for lying but still loves him dearly. The two get into more arguments, although she's quick to drop things since Cloud is in a pretty bad state and Sephiroth has convinced her that Cloud doesn't really know what he's talking about. Eventually the relationship gets repaired and she understands why Cloud hid the truth from her, but, you know, classic teenage "ugh I hate my parents."

Tifa: Before Sephiroth shows up, Aerith is really close with her 'mom.' As a child she always wants to be with Tifa, clinging to her legs or playing nearby. As she gets older she likes to help Tifa in the kitchen, wanting to learn her 'mother's' recipes. Tifa also teaches her some self defense basics, although she makes Aerith promise to never strike first and to avoid fighting at all costs. Even if another kid tries to strike her, it's better that she dodges rather than hits back. Aerith has a lot of strength that she is still learning to control after all, so she needs to be absolutely certain she won't seriously harm someone before she properly fights back.

When Sephiroth shows up, her relationship with Tifa turns sour. She stops calling her mom and avoids her. She gets into all sorts of arguments with Tifa and yells at Tifa that she hates her. Poor Tifa is heartbroken, because even if she knew Aerith was getting to the age where she would start to push back, it seems like this personality shift happened over night.

When Aerith starts living with Sephiroth (and an unwilling Cloud), she grows even more resentful towards Tifa due to the things Sephiroth tells her. Tifa is the reason her real mom lied to her all these years, Sephiroth says. Tifa was the one who manipulated Cloud away from Sephiroth! She grows very resentful of Tifa.

Sephiroth: When Aerith meets Sephiroth/begins to hear his voice, she very quickly falls under his sway. He tells her the truth and supports her strength. He teaches her to fight not just to defend herself, but to strike fear and stop anyone from so much as looking at her wrong. She adores him and is quick to call him 'dad'. Even when she witnesses Sephiroth acting a bit weird towards Cloud, her blind hero worship of the man who 'fixed' her family makes her ignore the red flags.

Marleen: Marleen is like an older sister to Aerith. Even though Marleen is a lot older than her, the two often played together growing up. Marleen would give Aerith her old dolls and clothes too, just like a real big sister would! Also, when Marleen gets to the age that she starts to wear a bit of makeup, she practices her skills on Aerith. Which of course is the coolest thing ever when you're a little kid.

Denzel: Aerith has a similar relationship with Denzel as she does with Marleen. He's like an older brother to her and he teaches her how to play all sorts of card and board games. He can be a little bit weird though, randomly getting quiet or distant from her. Her 'dad' says it because Denzel has something called PTSD, just like him. Apparently before she was born, Denzel had an illness that could causes really intense visions. Although he's better now, the experience was difficult and left a lasting impact on him.

Her dad says he had it too, although he's pretty certain Aerith won't get it. At the very least, he explains, even if she does get it the cure has been found and she won't get sick like him and Denzel did.

Barret: Getting into her 'extended family', Barret is like an uncle to Aerith. Although he often goes away for work, he lives at the bar with her parents and 'siblings' anytime he isn't away. When he's home, he always makes sure to take the kids somewhere fun! Aerith really likes him.

Yuffie: Yuffie is like the cool, fun aunt. She doesn't visit a ton, but she does it's always chaos. Once, she took Aerith to the Golden Saucer and taught her how to pickpocket the distracted crowds. Cloud and Tifa were not amused and Aunt Yuffie got in a lot of trouble. Aerith did too, although not as much as Yuffie who "should have known better than to teach a kid to steal!"

Nanaki: When she was little, Aerith was actually scared of Nanaki. She's told it's because she burnt her hand on his tail when she was a baby. Now that she's older, Aerith isn't scared of him anymore. She likes to give him pats, whenever he's willing to receive them.

Vincent: Like Nanaki, Aerith was also scared of Vincent when she was little. She came around to him by the time she was a toddler, but the few times she saw him as a baby she would cry and cry. Aerith doesn't see him often, but she views him as a sort of distant relative that sometimes shows up and comments that you've gotten a lot taller. He has a hard time talking to her or forming a bond, although he does try to occasionally make awkward small talk.

Cid: Cid is funny, because he can't seem to stop himself from swearing around her. Then Tifa smacks Cid on the back of his head, rebuking him for using such langauge around the kids. It never fails to make Aerith laugh.

Cait: When Aerith was a baby, Cait was the frequent victim of her grabby baby hands. As a toddler, she loved to snuggle him like a stuffed toy. Although as a preteen she likes to claim she doesn't care for toys like Cait anymore (which always makes Cait snap he isn't a toy!) she always sneaks a quick snuggle with him.

[pinkyyoshi]

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮♡︎ (PROLOGUE)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

18+! ANGST

Syn: Reader grew up as a hopeless romantic, always seeing the brighter side of things and always getting her heart broken. She finds herself falling in love with a man who happens to already be taken and ends up in a fucked up situation.

CW: Self-harm, manipulation, arguing, ANGST ANGST ANGST, profanity, cheating, mommy-issues, drug-use, SA(NOT BY GHOST!)

A/N: hey guys! This is my very first fan fiction and also very first official post on here so I want to apologize for any repetetiveness, grammar, or wordiness in the story, I’ll improve the more I right and I hope I’m being descriptive enough for you guys lol. (Criticism is appreciated!😛)

—————————

You were always such a hopeful girl with big dreams. Head in the clouds, not worried about a thing. You remember always laying down in bed with your mother who would always read you to sleep at night. Going to the library on the weekends and picking out books (always from the romance section). Mom would just smile and chuckle to herself. You never knew that these memories could ever be buried and spat on. Is it your fault for being so naive?

“Mommy?” You called out, peeking around your corner. There sat your mom on the table with a wine glass in her hand. She smiles at you, holding her arm out, calling you towards her.

“What is it sweety?” she says through rosy cheeks.

“When is daddy gonna come back?”

Splash Splash

The sounds of the waves would do. The days couldn’t get any shorter. Work couldn’t get any more tiring. You couldn’t be more alone.

Running sand through the 3 week old nails of your right hand, can of beer in your left. You thought you couldn’t get any more pathetic but here you were sat on the beach not far from the city.

Should I even be here right now?

You should’ve been home some time ago but he called, would he even show up? Sometimes you think mom might have been right…she didn’t need to yell though.

Just as you were about to get up, spinning on your heel, there he was. The reveal was kind of surprising, you think as you cough from all the smoke blown into your face. You can see the smile in his eyes. What the hell?

“S’rry abou’ that. Need a ride?”

You can only chuckle from the fact that he is literally 50 minutes late. You wanted to be mad but you were honestly more embarrassed for letting yourself even wait that long. But nonetheless, you nod your head and the two of you head over to your place and he just might’ve made up for making you wait that night. You counted. He stayed over til the morning this time, he even stayed for coffee! That’s definitely a first. Maybe He truly does care.

Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“You’re so beautiful” He would say, running his rough fingers over your head, caressing you softly. It was like a scene out of a book. Just like the one you read last month about the– well who cares. Simon was leaving soon.

As he was walking out the door, he caressed your cheek, before placing a delicate kiss if you were a set of china.

“I love you so much, my pretty pretty girl. I promise if you just wait for me-” You can’t help but tune him out after. Those are the only words you wanted to hear. You don’t wanna hear about how he has to get back home to his girl or that work was waiting for him.

Your strong little heart could only bear the small things he does for you, anything after that would be too much, knowing what you and also knowing that you couldn’t have him.

The door shuts and reality hits harder than a boulder when you sink back into your messy room. Someday.

(CRITICISM APPRECIATED!!!)

THANK YOU 4 READING

[immoralimmortals]

Name 3: Kakuzu

Hello! I've decided that I have enough tidbits I've written for some Akatsuki members in my fic that I can make posts of them. There's a running story, but I hope you can enjoy this standalone post. Think of them as drabbles c:

This one is very overdue! Kakuzu is one of my favorites and I've written a lot with him. I have a particular headcanon that because he's been around so long and seen so much, he is especially taken by the new and novel. There's a terrible side effect, however: these things are often very silly, an adjective Kakuzu avoids. So to be a little bit in love, he has to tolerate someone a little bit ridiculous. How else would he end up being the self-appointed manager of a one-man band?

Note: due to the nature of the actual fic, I've decided to include moments with both Hidan and Kakuzu with the reader that aren't posted in the Hidan post. These include lemons. Enjoy!

Hidan - Deidara

He’s looking at her. If she wasn’t sure before, she sure as hell is now that she doesn’t like him looking at her, at least if it’s always so intense as this. An old tree accepts her weary spine for rest, her thin blue sweater sleeves a plaything for hands that have no control over anything else. What seem to be red clouds float over the cloth Kakuzu wears, a ring sitting between his knees as its hand dangles over one leg while he sits on a stump. His other hand reaches into the chest of his cloak. Once again, a book is pulled, and there’s brief gratitude as his eyes lower.

Till he throws the book her way.

“Ah!” It’s too soft to call a shriek, but the emotion is still there and downright embarrassing.

“Read the first page.”

...Ah. She opens it up not quite to the left-most page but corrects the mistake, fingers as careful as if bending it would be a sin, though, clearly, this is a well-worn read. Page one: it’s a face. Mugshot, even? A paragraph of text slides either up or down- she doesn’t fucking know which. She just needs to hold it long enough to be convincing.

…

“Out loud.”

Her cheeks deceive her first, bright red and hot in a flash. What does she DO? What can she do?!

“I-- I—”

One secret uncovered. Fucking HOW-?!

“I’m. Sorry.” Each word comes with its own step to tower over her. His hand drops, slowly, and just as gradually in turn a shaky grasp returns the bingo book to it. He says nothing. Maybe this’ll be the last of it? Just another notch into being useless for him and a reason to leave her behind? At least the stress would stop stabbing her.

Not a chance.

“Your name,” he demands.

Oh, that’s a THING that PEOPLE have, DON’T THEY?!

She’s such a fucking idiot.

“I’m-- my name is—” What was it that first guy kept calling her? “—Duckling.”

Kakuzu blinks. “Duckling.” She’s withering on the spot as he kneels down, still tall as he forces eye contact lock in place with his large hand pinching her chin upward. If looks could kill, it’d be a mercy to her.

“...You’re a horrible liar.”

Two secrets uncovered, not a minute between them. They leave her helpless to unravel once he releases her face, like rope tying her upright, and she doubles over to try to get as low to the ground as possible.

“...Yeah. I know.”

Will he hit her? Yell? Oh, please don’t yell at her--

…

He just sighs.

“Word of advice: pick another name if you’re really sticking to this.”

And then he stands up. Is that it? Is that all there is to it?! No way, she knows in her gut, that’s too easy. But then sits down again, on the stump, and goes through his book like has nothing happened.

Maybe it can be too easy, just this once, just for a poor girl.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She practically hugs the guitar, head and hair swinging side to side.

She’s no maestro, nor bird, but music makes her happy and she can fumble her way through a song. It keeps her distracted; it keeps her honest.

“Guess she knows how to talk after all.” What about? No fucking clue. It shouldn’t surprise Hidan that his partner has nothing to say to that, but he takes it personally anyways. “Eh? What?" He turns to see Kakuzu stare at her, moss-green eyes piercing straight through as he thinks.

Hidan squints. “Eh?” he repeats, and then urgency strangles his throat. “Wait. Wait, wait NO, you are NOT--!”

The two approach her at once, her fingers scratching surprise across the guitar as she jolts up in horror. The masked man now looms over her once more. For once, for the first time...he almost sounds pleased.

“We can monetize this.”

“KAKUZU!!!” This is the first time she learns to recognize the true difference between annoyance and alarm from Hidan. It...doesn’t immediately scare her. The care is even...nice? “You can’t be serious!” Kakuzu continues the age old tradition of talking to him while locking onto her, offering a hand to take her from the dirty floorboards.

“What if I am?” Is that...playfulness? Is he capable of teasing?

“Whoring out a fledgling disciple of Jashin for nothing more than cash! YOU! GIRLY! I’m going insane here, you fucking agree with me, right?!”

But all boldness is gone and she holds the guitar neck like a kid does a favorite blanket, refusing to meet his demanding eyes. “That’s...kind of how music performance goes,” she breaks the news. It isn’t pleasant, but that’s how any business is, if you want to put food on the table. “Kakuzu, sir...--” she begins for the other one, mouth in a firm line. I’m no professional, she wants to protest. I’m untrained. But those words will leave her in the dust. A 1% chance at faking till you make it is better than a 100% at freezing all alone in the dark.

“You’ll earn your keep,” he confirms her fate.

I’m scared.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minutes now until night falls and the zombies walk free under the new moon sky. The woman glances out from her smudged window, Hidan still perched on the front porch. He has an impatience reminiscent of a wolf waiting to pounce as he faces down the final tangles of sunlight through branches. Loneliness wraps around her like thorns.

“Ah-!”

In the corner of her eye, she sees the perpetrator of her broken concentration, a set of fingers with a ring settled on her shoulder. A voice does its best to not sound overly rattled. “I- I thought you were…” Not going to bother saying goodbye. “...Getting ready to leave.”

Kakuzu is a man of few words, as always, merely stepping back to give her space to face him. It’s funny; her perception of those eyes of his fluctuates so easily. Are they a soft moss or a gemstone emerald? Do they glimmer brightly in the low light, or are they dull with his years of labor and death? She’s spent nights prior contemplating the strange man’s multitudes- Hidan’s too- and she knows it’s not going to be solved tonight.

Yet she’s distracted long enough that Kakuzu ends up speaking first. The corners of her lips have risen, perhaps unconsciously. Why does she give this to him, he wonders? He can’t make it stay. It isn’t worth her expense.

“Our replacements have been delayed.” Hope so briefly grown is cut down: “But we can’t stay for them. Zetsu will be around until they show up.”

The woman repeats the name under her breath, smile faded. The amalgamation...black, white, unnatural, sinister.

“Listen.”

So she must, straightening to attention despite the weight of worries. His stare is unflinching.

“We are all dangerous. Every single one of us.” The bounty hunter’s brow furrows harder underneath his headband. “No one will ever defeat one of us, unless they’re wearing the cloak, too. And in that case, it’s a tossup which. Don’t test their nerves. You. Will not. Survive.”

This is advice he knows very, very well, the way he’s held back in these weeks. That face, in hallowed horror before his truth-- it’s fragile. Her eyes are too trusting. She’s pitiable. She’s ignorant. But a part of him believes she must not be stupid. And that’s kept her alive around him longer than most anyone else.

“We are each under oath from here on to protect you, but that means nothing. Know this. We’re no heroes. Takara--…”

Her breath hitches, though the name he gave puts its weight in his own mouth. The ringed hand clasps her shoulder again, and its grip is tight.

“Whatever skill you have, making me and Hidan soft like this...keep it up.” His knuckles clench. “It’s all between you and death.”

Too tight, too tight-!

Kakuzu lets go as she squeaks, her own hand flinging where his was to ease the stinging skin.

“I...--” This is a horrible time for Kakuzu to be mistaken about how she may be saved, for his voice to flounder for the first time. By his own hand, he is proving himself wrong. But why should he care...-?

“HEY SHITBAG!” a voice calls, dampened only by its distance down. “TIME TO GO!”

Takara flinches between Hidan’s stance below and the man ahead who hurt her. Something flashes in that green, and even he isn’t sure if it carries rage or fear.

“...I’m sorry.”

Without another word, Kakuzu lingers by, past, down the stairs, out the door, and is gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The moon is massive in the rising dusk though also thin as a crescent, shape meaning they’ve nearly hit the one month mark since their departure from the haunted mansion. It hits the edge of the horizon right where Hidan sits, like a sickle through his stomach as he’s perched upon a star-drenched boulder, tall within the desert clearing. Concentration lowers alongside his hands. Purple eyes open, gleaming like they share the light in hers miles and countries away. Satisfaction raises the corners of his lips.

“’Bout damn time!” Hidan, for once, is thrilled to receive orders. He even lets his teeth bare, smile so wide for something so innocent, so far from his usual delights. His shoulders roll back and his palms lean onto the rock underneath him. “Finally...we can get back to business!”

The other ringed hand that lowers, however, is owned by someone much more unhappy.

“You nearly ruined the opportunity,” he growls deep in his throat, behind the cover of his mask. Even through the cloth, the chill of desert night stings the inside of his mouth. “Picking fights like that. You realize you have something to lose, don’t you?”

“Yeah?” Kakuzu’s partner absolutely does. Not. Care. He got what he wanted, and he hauls it up for display like a hunter does his trophy. “Well, I was right and we’re being sent back anyways!”

“That is in spite of you and not because of you.” The voodoo doll is as serious as the grave, a tone which only serves to escalate Hidan’s attitude. Ideas seep into bare skin the more he wakes up, no shirt to act as barrier between the cold wind and his heart.

“Apparently that wasn’t on ME! ...Kakuzu…— ” And now his tone is deadly sober, too, the younger ninja having twisted his head around so fast that it almost ripped off the neck. As ever, there is a delay intaking information, but it does always come together in due time.

And how it looks with the puzzle pieces clicking in place, with what Kisame said, is absolutely spelling disaster.

“The hell do they mean you bruised her?” harsh words sting more now, hissed instead of thrown as the older nin is accustomed to. In fact, it worsens as he whispers:

“Kakuzu,” he gapes, bottom eyelids twitching. “Don’t fucking tell me...— “

Kakuzu doesn’t speak fast enough to stop the train from going off the rails. The silver-haired demon clenches one fist and points a finger with another. The worst part is though it’s from someone so rash, the accusation is true. He’s not talking. He’s not denying. The only person he fucking trusted in all this despite his faults, despite his money-hungry ways...he thought he could be relied on.

The coals in the engine burn up and up and up, steam filling Hidan’s head until he explodes.

Oh, you evil old bastard.

“DID YOU TOUCH HER?!” Hidan shrieks at the top of his lungs, standing to his feet. That mouth of his is still so wide, but now instead a snarl. “Is THAT why?! Is THAT why she agreed to everything?!—”

“No.” Kakuzu says this firmly, just before iron hands catch a blood red blade. But even caught, the pressure does not cease. The priest is right in his face, searching for answers, eager for destruction. Despite his combative nature...this situation is not common between the two zombies. It’s usually the other way around, in fact. While Kakuzu’s fury is justified, Hidan’s is downright righteous. His teeth are gritting so hard, like they’re imagining tearing the threaded man apart, limb from limb.

Always so reasoned, always so right, Kakuzu’s nightmare is that he has nothing to back him up. He merely repeats his denial:

“No.”

Betrayal.

The Cerberus of scythes stays raised, locked against hardened skin, forcing green eyes to meet Hidan’s. As if it’ll bring him any sort of satisfaction. As if it will undo what has happened.

As if there is any answer worth hearing.

With a shing! too sharp-sounding to merely be pressed onto human flesh, the weapon pulls back. The Jashinist’s head tilts up by the chin, and Kakuzu is unsure if it’s a trick of the light that those pinkish eyes are, against all odds, soft. Lips whisper something, something that hurts more than it should to a man that has experienced more hardship longer than most others have been alive:

“And here I thought we finally agreed on something.”

Purple gaze becomes hooded after one last twitch, one more readjustment to the stark reality of things. Uncaring if he’s alone, Hidan turns around and walks away. They’re almost done, almost ready to journey back. Even if he is alone, soon she will not be.

Regardless of it is in spite of Kakuzu and not because of him.

There is nothing more shameful to the old man than the fact that nothing he can say right now will change Hidan’s mind. He is alone in the world, and the only one left for him is the one girl that will accept anyone. He is afraid that even then, they may be pulled apart.

If his hand has branded her, then Kakuzu has become the very thing he told her to fear. He will try to deny it till the end, but it is still true. They may be pulled apart for her own good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Almost like it’s a gut instinct, the traveler wanders to the front door. The entrance is open, but the two tallest guys she’s met are at the threshold, barring entry and exit alike. Kakuzu is arguing- as reasonably as he can— with Kisame.

“I can...understand your hesitation,” he draws out, deep and careful as such a precarious bargain requires. “But it’s been long enough to wait for her. She’s not coming down.”

Cloakless, muscled arms are folded and their shoulders tense. The shark is trying just as hard to meet in the middle, but an attachment both hold— ironically what this is about— is causing an uncrossible barrier. The treaty is wavering, and it hardly even started. It’s a difficult balance that both Akatsuki have artificial sympathy for another, for her sake, as Kisame needs to temper down after Takara’s explanation, and Kakuzu now has to reprove he is safe enough for her to be around.

Just for her sake, they’re trying. God they’re trying. But it still isn’t good.

“We’ll hang out here, then.” Yeah, Itachi’s idea for her to come at her own pace is mostly because of that other one, but...the one that bruised her may initiate alarm as well, even if she so earnestly pushed it aside. He second guesses himself again, as he did with her upon his bed. Him? Kakuzu really cared about someone? Anyone?!

Sizzling annoyance and anger is under Kakuzu’s skin and stewing in the back of his throat, and the fact it is still there instead of expressed outward in his fists is proof. Yes, he does care. So he must have patience. Patience.

And finally, patience is rewarded.

Kakuzu freezes as soon as he sees her, tilting her head to appear from behind Kisame’s large, protective figure. She smiles. So softly, she smiles. The bounty hunter must keep his gaze unmoved, lest he emote in such a way it could alarm the delicate creature. To Kisame he succeeds, but her this is the kindest he’s ever looked back, and so he fails the task utterly.

And what does he feel, those eyes widening? Is he afraid, she wonders? Afraid again like as he clenched her shoulder?

And of her to him...does she hate him? Is that pain on her face, he asks? She looks like she’s been crying. Is that why she hesitated to come down? For a calculated man, his thoughts rush so much faster than hers. Are those tears for him? Does she fear him after what he did? He wouldn’t blame her. Not at all.

Kisame and Tobi wait, one with worry staring down to where she hides behind his arm, and the other with distant interest like that of a scientist. What will they do?

But she does not fear him. Not even after how it was supposed to end, in tragedy. Kakuzu gave her a name, and though she does not know its meaning, it is still a treasure grander than any wealth that glitters like gold. His hopes for her from their beginning shine through. She will succeed, always succeed and never be without, not again in the state she was found. But he never wished for her success to be wrapping him around her finger, for her to never be without the steel hunter’s best intentions...yet here they are.

"Hi," she says.

God damn you, girl, for falling into his lap not once but twice to look up at him with those starry eyes.

Kakuzu dares not move even as she does, as the queen steps around her blue shield and approaches. Her regality astounds him, something he never noticed until it was gone. The smoothness of every motion, from the way she hoods her eyes to the way her chin keeps so level even as she walks; it is all so precise, so accidentally commanding with how simultaneously demure and unconfident it seems. It impresses him. Perhaps, unconsciously after all those nights of observing her talents, it always has.

The guard, in turn, watches with caution as his ward raises her arms around the dragon that once captured her like she was a hoard of riches, holds him with all she has in her poor forgiving soul with a love better reserved for saints than sinners as he.

Just as Hidan did a month ago, Kakuzu’s hand raises, bends fingers that don’t know what to do. She trusts him. Why does she trust him?

Palm goes flat.

It lands on top of her head as lightly as humanly possible, perhaps even lighter.

The fool has forgiven him, the treasurer must accept. How terrible. How terrible for them both. It’s a shame Kakuzu has nothing to pray to, as that would mean he could be absolved of his harm. But at least she has been kept alive. At least, at least. No matter how conflicted he is— why should he care? He meant to leave her be in the end, after all-— Kakuzu still has a gratitude in how blind fate ended up in her favor.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Words he should be saying come instead from her. Kakuzu can’t even grunt to that, voice trapped behind his mask.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Takara, isn’t this just fucking WEIRD?” ...Oh god.

“Weird? I say that’s how you behave. There’s a reason you weren’t allowed alone with her.” Oh god. She has just made this all even worse.

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, cretin. The only reason you were sent on a mission was so she could be safe. Don’t you remember how we were proven right?”

She wants to crawl out of her own skin.

“OI! That was NOT me!”

“But did you stop it?”

“I—”

“Kisame!” the woman shouts from her raised position to the fighting men, much like a damsel does from her tower. She already explained this to him, that it was an accident. Why is he—?

The sound of her distress only pushes him onward. He has honor to protect. He tastes blood in the water. It twists his expression into something terrible, something Hidan is quickly starting to match with absolute abandon.

Talking is over. Milliseconds split whether Kisame draws his sword first or Hidan his scythe. The woman screams, and they don’t listen, so she has no choice but to throw herself forward until they do.

Both men tangibly feel the weight of their smiling lips drop as soon as she comes between them once again.

Shing-clink, THUMP.

Two stories over their heads fly a sword of scales and a scythe of blood, in a near instant hitting the earth. Both cling into the dirt like their ends were cut off and the flat edges glued where they landed, just absolutely, firmly in place, even as thick as Samehada is. Both animals have their jaws dropped and eyes wide, but not for the hunt. The sight that splits them is their bounty, a woman uninjured yet still twitching and flinching.

Looping around her over and over— around her waist, her raised arms, her heaving chest— are black, metallic threads. Kakuzu has never said her name like this, not since he gave it to her.

“TAKARA!”

It’s a mere split second she’s kept on the battlefield, immediately whipped backwards to stand beside him at the front door. She’s horrified as she looks upon him in this new, battle ready state, still on the brink of losing everything thanks to adrenaline and misunderstandings between her friends, and the bounty hunter decides it is the best time to teach her of her place.

“What are you thinking?” His volume is so much lower, and yet she’s even more intimidated. This is a goddamn nightmare. Her saviors nearly killed one another, and now here she is captured by something she can only describe as eldritch coming forth from another who she has come to trust. The threads wiggle around him; they're so dark and tinged with a glimmer that it's almost look like you took a pencil and scribbled onto the air itself. They writhe from his sleeves like worms. Gemstones bore into her.

And boy do they see every inch of her foolishness.

“You. Were mere inches from death.” His eyes will hurt later from glaring so hard, going without blinking so long. “Do you know a damn thing, girl? Do you know how so, very close you are to dying every moment you are alive in our presence? Do you KNOW?”

The threads don’t let go, but as he looms over her so much his shadow consumes all of her body, it’s one of the last things on her mind. The stitched doll is relentless. He had warned her. And he had given her proof to be afraid. It needs to be drilled into her empty skull. His voice raises:

“Can you not even THINK?!”

“KAKUZU!”

Though Kisame’s mouth had opened, it’s not his voice that speaks. Beside him, the swordsman sees Hidan seethe. His body is leaning forward, both fists clenched to his sides. Slowly, the same way a prisoner may drag their chains, green irises fall onto the silver haired man. There’s an expression about him, the way the muscles in his face twitch with effort to hold their position; it is more than just outrage…a bit of the same thing as the night of the meeting where it started to go wrong. And then into his ear, a little sound is made, as soft and small as a squeak from a mouse. The chains drag back, eyes finally seeing her again instead of just through her.

Helpless in his grasp, like a fly twirled into spiderweb, the performer can do nothing with her body but cry. She tries not to— because he is right— but no amount of biting your bottom lip and sniffing up the tears can keep the emotion away. In fact, it only makes it uglier. Hidan says his name again, more distant to Kakuzu’s spiraling mind, and the woman feels the bindings retract, piano wire slithering away like snakes. Kakuzu steps away, gawking at what he caused, the way she holds herself exactly in place as he had demanded of her. But others are here now, judging, and so panic sets in.

He can’t even manage an apology this time as he must walk away before it gets worse.

A third time Hidan says his partner’s name, and he runs right by her to chase him, to demand answers wherever the stitched man is going to hide.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Kakuzu. You’re too seasoned to need to be disciplined, yet here we are.” Ah, how shame and anger alike boil in a horrible brew in Kakuzu’s throat, that he can’t make them into words. “Don’t think you needn’t listen to this. Consider again: Clearly—” Pain acknowledges, “—You are aware of her ignorance, her fragility. Effort needs to be made not just to shelter her. Give opportunity for her to absorb. And therefore she may learn.”

A very polite way of asking him to stop scaring her. It’s shameful, but he can read it as such.

“I sent you back because you’re in prime standing with this traveler to unlock her secrets, get us closer to the purpose of her arrival, of if anything with her own world may be done for ours. Tell me, was I wrong? Is your original care not enough to keep your standing in her household?”

Hidan’s answer is quick. “Motherfucker, of COURSE it is!”

“...Good,” is the level reply. But he is not satisfied. “Kakuzu.” Emeralds and galaxies lock unblinking. It is up to the masked man to choose his own fate. “Can it be done?”

The person in question closes his eyes, not to run away but to do something such a calculated fellow never takes time for these days: introspection. Living this long, seeing so much...you think you know yourself. You believe you can predict your own mind and actions and reactions as well as chess pieces on a board, sometimes as simply as the order in which someone counts to ten. The painful truth is that this is not the case; that is why she makes him so uncomfortable.

His unpredictability is now, itself, unpredictable. It only took a girl that walked into his life from another dimension to put new possibilities on the table.

So what is his choice? He opens his eyes. Three colors bore into him: Orange in curiosity, purple in wait, magenta in tension. But, as ever, it can only be green who can speak for himself.

And he won’t back down from the challenge of a lifetime.

“Yes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What’s the closest book in this damn place to whatever the hell the girl might like? Fairy tales, sure. Not to his taste and he’s heard them all, so no. Romance novel? ...Not for the best. Oh. Hm.

Well, it isn’t his choice for her, but Kakuzu can certainly pass the time with a geopolitical nonfiction. May as well…

Patter, patter, old yellow pages flip open. “...Hn,” he grunts in displeasure.

The first Hokage. Suppose it can’t be helped; most literature is rather Fire Country biased. Still, the memory of the Konoha shinobi gives Kakuzu a headache. He paws a couple more pages—

...But then fingers stop from turning one more.

Around the corner, the woman has her back to the wall, taking a breath before getting on metaphorical stage. This guy has heard her sing over and over. Kakuzu is, sincerely, the one constant member of her audience since the first performance. Don’t be so nervous! You do this all the time.

But the difference now is...he’s going to know this song is for him.

Kakuzu pretends not to notice the girl is there until she makes herself visible on purpose, standing awkwardly in the library nook’s entrance with the guitar over her neck. In the corner of his eye, her cheeks are bright pink. As tempting as it is since she’s already made this first move, to keep his promise of letting her approach means to let her continue— no matter how painfully— and not stop whatever the heck is about to happen.

“I...um…” Her voice is so small. It isn’t really in her favor to say ‘hey, Hidan told me everything! He told me you really care! I care about you too, and I’m sorry!’ No, not the most tactful choice. She has to open the conversation by stepping right in, no one to take responsibility for it but herself:

“I—...Talk?” Find your tongue, kid. “Is now a good time? To?”

It’s disheartening if the stammering is because she’s scared half to death, but a few words from their mutual friend/”friend” outside as he laid in the grass have made the hunter wiser than that. As always, she sees his face covered, all but the gemstones fixed in his skull, but they do look tired. “As good as ever.”

That isn’t a no, at least! She steps forward, presenting herself as if a newbie ready to audition. “I…” More stuttering. The girl must have a sixth sense because just as Kakuzu opens his mouth to tell her to spit it out, she beats him to the punch:

“No, let me. I got it.” Her eyes close and a palm raises, indicating he not interrupt as she digs inside for the right thing to say. Her shoulders slump with a sigh and she visibly relaxes, a detail carried out very much on purpose. Let go. Just talk.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Abruptly much more complete, her language. Her eyes stay shut, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’m sorry I put you in a bad position. I know it must not have been comfortable. You’ve done a lot for me when I didn’t ask for it. Frankly, I don’t even know what I’ve done to deserve it. But you’ve looked out for me and I should return your kindness better.” Her eyes open, soft yet determined. “I hope I can be better.” He stares up, unblinking; she cannot wait for his assurance, the truth still needs to be said. “And I forgive you for anything that may have possibly happened that you could regret.”

Ah, to not speak the obvious. She’s opened the gates, and since she’s making it so damn easy, now he’s walking in. “Are you certain of that?” Her nod is firm and immediate; he’s never seen her so serious.

“I forgave you as soon as it happened. I just missed you. That’s the only thing I felt.”

So, is she lying, he thinks? Is it pity? Or is she a fool? But something— always something— in his gut tells him she is most certainly not stupid. Perhaps that instinct makes him the idiot. Over one slow second, his eyes become hooded and his shoulders relax, too, as he exhales, weary and ready for rest from the whole emotional affair. He doesn’t like to accept kindness, nor be blamed of it, but he’ll do it just this once. Just so long as he doesn’t need to announce it.

“Sit down.”

The woman does as told, and she’s never been more relieved to be near him. The seat at far end of the couch becomes occupied. Part of him wishes she sat right next to him as before, when he pushed her away. That’s his own fault, he supposes. Yet another sigh falls from the back of his throat. So much unnecessary discomfort...it hasn’t been this difficult for him in years to simply exist. She bites her tongue, trusting they can both be adults and speak for themselves about her own feelings.

And damn, he’s going to try.

“You want to know why I care?” The musician glances at her toes for a second, down to where she’s set down her instrument ...She nods, confirming not her only her obvious desire to know but rather also the ability to withstand the answer. And withstand she must, as he raises the curtain on his mysterious ways:

“I don’t know.”

She blinks up at him. Did she hear him right? He’s always struck her as such a knowing, confident man, one that has a reason for everything. He won’t meet her eyes, his are glued to the pattern of books in the case ahead.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “It’s something you do. I know it’s on purpose.” Guilty as charged, she glances away momentarily. It’s hard to say that’s not the case when she had a whole breakdown at Tobi’s feet over how that is very much the case.

“But.”

And but, she agrees, though she needs his lips to explain what she plays out. What does he have to say “but” about?

“But it’s...sincere. It’s damn on purpose because you mean it.” It’s a grumble he speaks; is he angry? But Kakuzu knows deep in his many hearts— each and every one— that he’s never held anger for her. An emotion that defines him, allows survival...it is lacking with her. That’s what the problem has been, the imbalance that’s thrown him so off. How do you navigate without something that has always guided your way, struck clear the path you haven't trod before?

Perhaps another emotion is needed, one she has plenty to spare.

“I think I’m allowed to make one silly decision for its own sake.”

A pause is allowed for it to hit her: this is a joke. She blinks once again, now curious instead of worried. “Silly?” she repeats. He grunts in affirmative reply. “Oh…” And then, like lighting a candle, she brightens slow but sure; perhaps they have middle ground after all. “...I’ve always thought life isn’t worth it if you can’t be a little silly,” she comforts.

What odd advice. He’s the last person to accept it. Perhaps that means he’s the first to need it. The man puts aside his sense of dignity to humor her, this relationship he has allowed to fester being his own fault:

“I think I’m too hardened for your philosophy...duckling.”

The word is arsenic on his tongue, poison that tastes sweet as it goes down the esophagus. Duckling. Duckling. Duckling. He’s never said it, not once since that second day together, but it’s echoed in his mind ever since. A nickname so ridiculous, so flagrantly dumb...that he could never forget it. That he can’t stop hearing it in the back of his head whenever she does something simply he cannot comprehend, from the way she moves her legs so far forward when she walks to how she smiles even when he's done nothing to earn it. Silly, silly, silly.

What is it that she’s thinking, the way she looks back so blank? Are her feelings hurt? Did he put to much emphasis on the sarcasm, the strangeness of it all? Oh no, no. Quite the contrary, the performer bursts into laughter, so suddenly he can feel her bounce with each shout even from his end of the couch. Never before has he heard her laugh much less like this. But the ugliness, the snorting and the wheeze stuck in the back of her throat and the way she covers her mouth...yes.

It is sincere.

Perhaps he’s not making a mistake, after all. Perhaps even briefly, it can be indulged without consequence. Her cheeks are still flushed with the color of roses, but it is in something closer to bashfulness than shame, even as he considers if it’s the latter Kakuzu experiences for himself. The woman he named, his silly little duckling…

The treasure he keeps so hesitantly, as if it’ll make him human again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Read this one to me.”

How lax things have become since the conversation started with her needing to hold her instrument simply to feel prepared to speak, to perform her words to be understood. Chin propped onto her palms and elbows propped onto the couch cushion, looking up at Kakuzu, her finger gestures to the book he had set aside upon her entrance, the one that provided him unfortunate but important memories.

“...Sure,” he answers, picking it up and flipping open again, but he has misgivings. “Don’t think you’ll like it, though.” The woman purses her lips, big eyes pouting up at the man.

“Why not?”

“It isn’t happy enough for you,” he answers bluntly, as he always does.

“That’s okay.”

Oh, so we’re going this route. The book flops onto his lap as wrists go limp, his gaze on her pointedly. She is undeterred, seemingly to the point of denial. “It’s nonfiction,” he tries to clarify. But she just lights up.

“I love nonfiction!”

“…” His eyes narrow down at the lady who has positioned herself much like a child would near his lap, waiting for a bedtime story. “...Are you saying words just to hear them?” But she shakes her head, eager as ever, especially just after being emboldened to be so goofy— a fatal mistake on Kakuzu’s part.

“Nonfiction is easier for me than fiction,” the stranger explains, and the quickness of the answer leads him to believe she’s said this aloud before. “With nonfiction, you get to be more detached, you get to learn. It’s silly—” As she always is. “—But stories are...hard for me. I get emotional really fast.” And then, softer: “I like knowing how stories end before I begin. I get to feel prepared.”

Oh? That’s not something Kakuzu’s ever heard before, not once in all his years. Usually fairy tales and the like are used to escape harsh feelings. That’s why he never liked them; hard emotions made him stronger. As he mulls this difference over, the girl continues, her tone bashful:

“And...I kinda...need to learn about you guys. About where I am.” Ah, here we go again. Kakuzu is as neutral as possible on whether or not the nonsense she spouts about another world is literally true; it is clear as day, regardless, she has a lot to pick up about the world she is currently in. Sheltered or spiraling from another dimension, it does not matter. She has to be educated...so she’s got him there. He sighs the way he so often does, not a vocalization but a release of a breath to prepare the next one.

“...I suppose so.”

Pages flutter like wings as he aims to skip the so-embarrassingly slanted narrative about the Hokage that ruined his life. Green irises blink at something they spot. Oh, that’s appropriate. She can at least become a better liar if the time comes to protect herself. He tries his best to ignore the way her plump cheeks squish in her palms, though he can’t manage to turn his head far enough to push it out of the corner of his eye. He reads:

In contrast, the Land of Bears homes the ancient Hoshigakure. The oral tradition states that the village was formed following a meteorite striking the earth after falling from the heavens. It produced such a spectacle and affect upon nearby societies that the staggered groups gathered to worship the “star.”

For such a gruff voice...it makes a wonderful narration. Kakuzu’s words are easy to follow, neither too dull nor too enthusiastic. Her gaze softens as she drinks his sound and knowledge in. He’d make a lovely audiobook actor, the way the gravel so gently tumbles in his throat. Kakuzu ASMR...the performer ponders, half-closing her eyes and seeing if she gets the well-known “tingles” sitting so close to the source of such pleasant, low sound.

A merged society formed as travelers mingled and exchanged culture, eventually large enough to dub themselves “Hoshigakure”: the Village Hidden in the Stars. Although unrecognized by the Five Great Shinobi Countries despite the insistence of the Hoshikage, it is nevertheless a successful economy, largely self-sustained but still receiving notable tourism for its clear view of the night sky.

She’s quiet now, a dreamy but troubled look upon her face as she no longer sees Kakuzu but through him, watching her own thoughts wash over his shape in a haze. Distinctly, her smile is gone. Perhaps she was hoping for something a bit more grand for her crazy backstory, Kakuzu notes, but he’s off the mark.

The performer doesn’t end up singing for him like she planned on, walking in with her guitar. She’s got other things on her heart now. Other things she needs to figure out first in rehearsal.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Knock knock.

It isn’t like Kakuzu to receive visitors after bedtime, but today’s a special kind of day. It somehow even surprises him that it’s the woman he named is the one at the door tonight. He sees her face first and his eyes crawl down the length of her nightgown second, them alone moving and nothing else as his bare arm holds the door open by its thinnest side. The gaze finally comes back up to where is appropriate to look at a lady, and he finds his tongue. “Can I help you,” he says more than asks.

“I…” she stammers for a different reason this time than the hours before. Kakuzu follows her stare past the shape of his glossy hair, draping like a curtain down as he tilts his head forward, and then it hits him. Oh. That’s right. He decides at least one of them should dress appropriately.

THUMP.

The door closes in her face, leaving her stunned. “I...oh…” she deflates. The dreamer considers if it’s better to walk away or try again, as if another knock will fix everything, and the decision hangs until in as quick as a flash the door reveals a different man, mask thrown on and the Akatsuki garb buttoned shut, lest she ogle at his stitches any longer.

Unlike some hours before, this time she does need a good prodding. “Speak up,” he commands.

What had she seen…? It was so fast that she begins to doubt if her eyes are starting to play make believe. He looked so…so...—

...Nerves and rudeness are swallowed, aware she’s leaving him in wait. “Can I talk to you about something?” But Kakuzu’s eyes narrow. They’re talking now. Get to the point. A couple seconds pass before she elaborates: “...Outside?”

…

A strange request is answered with yet another sigh, the man exhaling as the gift he did not ask for so bizarrely requires they be under the night stars. Shame on him for signing up for this, for feeding stray cats and not expecting them back for more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The grass seems even taller and wilder after hours cooling in the midnight. The thinnest sliver of a waxing moon gleams down the edges of leaves and budding dew that waits to be seen in the morning. The insects sing, chirps and cheeps and chirrups becoming a symphony that if you listen too closely, the vastness in their unified melody will begin to overwhelm, begin to make you realize the world is so much bigger than just you, than just one little cricket. Many people and many crickets there are...and another thing

Another thing, which is what she can’t let go of.

She looks ghostly in her long sleeve nightdress, pale and frilled under weak light. The barest hint of yellow gleams from the gangly weeds, a gold complimenting her silver. “I’ve never seen this before,” she whispers as if it’s a transgression. As Kakuzu finishes trailing behind, he looks at her back; she won’t turn to see him, to evaluate a response as she so often seeks. 

“What…?” He tiredly turns his head for something to blame, him being woken up this late. Something rattles in the grass. A bug, he quickly identifies with a sharp eye. But she doesn’t look at it.

“...Hn,” he mumbles to himself. A shape swirls over a small boulder. A snake?

But she doesn’t show him that, either. No, not a creature low to the earth just as she may be. She points.

...She points up at the sky.

He tilts his chin up to follow. It’s a quiet night, clear as clear can be with not a cloud to hide the heavens. His brow knits under his slashed headband. Perhaps a bird? No, not that either. The answer is hidden in plain sight. Her hand falls as the thing hypnotizes her, leaves her mystified till numb.

“Stars.”

The word is tinged— deeply, deeply sad. She had heard about it— had accepted it— and yet you cannot miss what you don’t truly know. Even when she visited family in the farmlands, the nearby cities still lit up the horizon, still tainted the view of the firmament that was once the birthright of every living creature. The stranger never realized how far the light clouded, how much vision it took away. She did not know until now that this, as it is tonight, is how the sky is supposed to be. She’d seen it before, even in this world, yeah...but not as clear as now. They aren’t mere dots, mistakable for satellites. They swirl with color and shades across the rainbow, a prism of everything holy, a glisten made for the dressings of God. They twine such shapes and depth that now, suddenly, she understands what constellations really are.

How they’re more than just imaginary lines on black space.

A man raised by suffering and time steps forward to her side, tilting his head down to watch the reflection in her eyes, the galaxies and planets that yearn to find home within her soul. The stranger’s pupils are so wide like maybe if they’re big enough, the night can slide right in and fill her till she’s stars inside and out. She’d like nothing more. Kakuzu’s shoulders rise and fall with a sympathy-laden breath he wishes to lessen the load of.

“You’re not going to get far if you can’t pretend you haven’t seen them all your life.”

An abrupt awakening, but it isn’t as rude as her ears first mistook. By the time she looks back to him, he’s averted his gaze, studying the lights themselves. He gestures up too, briefly to redirect those big watchful eyes off himself, and he lets his arm swing back down. “Hoshi is the village of the stars. You remember, don’t you, girl? You’ve seen them all your life. You know them.”

…

The humor in his voice is rare but not so foreign to the performer’s ears that she can’t, eventually, follow.

“...Are you offering to teach me how to lie to people?” The mask doesn’t hide how the underneath of his eyes crinkle, the fact that he’s smiling.

“Not at all...Just filling in the gaps of your piss poor memory.” Almost quick enough to make her flinch, his hand rises again, but the direction it picks is right over her head. “Look,” he instructs. “Tell me what that is.”

She does a double take between him and the spot of space his fingertip tries to touch. Confused eyes blink.

“...A...star?”

“Wrong.” Well, kind of right but for their purposes wrong. “Leo.” His firm stretch aims a little lower. “This,” he demands. The traveler guesses his pattern:

“...Virgo?”

“Gemini.” The target returns to the first point of interest. “This.”

“...Leo.”

“Here.”

“Gemini.”

“Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Knock, knock.

...You’ve got to be joking.

The bounty hunter pinches the bridge of his nose as for the second night in a row he is asked for at an ungodly hour, though having sense to learn from mistakes and put on his cloak before opening the bedroom door to the woman he named. “What the hell is—” Once his rubbing stops, so do his words. Lifting eyes see her, fully dressed not only in her pastel sundress and sweater but her hat, shoes, sunglasses, and letter-shaped bag. Blue and white and pink, this is a lot to take in at 12AM. His cheeks pinch upward, lifting the bottom eyelids into a more scrutinizing stare. The sight makes him forget he hasn’t yet hidden his face, the shape of it memorizing in her brain like an afterimage when you look at the sun too long. Lips part, held open for a couple seconds before forming a single syllable she gets to ogle at: “...What.”

“Please come outside with me,” the performer insists, voice quiet as to not alert anyone else asleep behind walls but urgent nonetheless.

“Takara��”

“Please.” Despite it being a word common in her defensive politeness, this is also way the woman makes her demands. Kakuzu isn’t so naive to not know this. To ignore this means to have it happen again, night after night, until he gives in.

“Fine.” The ridiculous girl will be humored despite the grumbles from his unmasked mouth. She sees it now, every minute twitch and leer and frown. She’s gotten so used to reading just the upper half of his face that abruptly it’s like he’s emoting twice as much as before. He’s almost a whole new person.

But she has gotten what she asked for, and a hungry gaze will tear away in order to carry on as planned.

They weave through the corridors, go outside, step onto the porch. The air is brisk, like the stars are ice cubes dropped into the galaxy and poured around them.

“...Another lesson,” Kakuzu presumes, tilting his chin at the sky once more. He has no idea how correct he is.

One of his five hearts stops beating as she takes his hand and runs.

It’s an easy pace to keep up with, of course, as she is no ninja nor even a runner, but the adrenaline is contagious. He finds himself unwilling to argue— perhaps even too stunned to— as they traverse the length of the small plain in front of the adopted home and slip into the forest. They’re mere specks, their shadows simply blades of grass taller than the others, moving underneath the vastness of velvety night. No explanation from her lips come, no matter how urgent this seems. Once they hit the line of trees and out of sight of the house, he has to ask:

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see!” is all he gets, breathy and giddy. “You’ll see!”

Kakuzu second guesses himself, as he has come to do each time he is in her presence. So much younger than he, but he trusts her. So much more ignorant than he, but he believes her. So much different than he...but…

But as she takes him somewhere he finally needn’t worry about others judging, he understands her. He understands all too well.

“This.” The traveler puts it simply as she catches her breath, and indeed such magnificence needs no further introduction. Her hands guide one of his as they walk through the final layer of brush to a short cliff-side. The world is so vast, an expanse of woods shaded in different indigos and purples underneath the blanket of an unpolluted night sky, rolling until you can no longer see leaves, then branches, then individual trees. It’s a depth of detail so beyond the human eye that it makes you understand what the impressionist movement of art was about, trying to capture the things photos cannot. Underneath it all is the clearest view of the heavens, even more so than at her new home where she’s learned the horoscope.

Underneath it all, the stars are twice as many. A pool reflects them all back up, nearly as bright. Thrice as many, shining in her eyes.

“This is what I was talking about last night,” she reveals, sweet as nectar from her mouth. That’s all a wary Kakuzu needs to piece it together: She snuck out, ran home, and he was the first she told of what she found. A dangerous adventure. It deserves a scolding.

“...You’re not coming out here again without me.”

A now familiar tone, even if rare, even if he frowns. His teasing is oh so welcome, and she wouldn’t want anything more. The smile she provides in turn is as mischievous in kind. A couple giggles slipping past containment precede her punchline. “...Can I give you my song now?”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

One of the frogs wading among cattails in the water below has already started, long before the next main act arrived. It’s a sound that vibrates deep in one’s chest, the little croaks. Kakuzu’s eyes hood, and gradually, one corner of his lips rise in a smirk. It makes her heart flip, having such a look to match the voice. He’s so much...younger than she expected, at least younger looking. He speaks like he’s traveled the universe, end to end, seen everything there is to see.

“...What a trick to pull. It’s impressive.” The performer takes the opportunity to wink. Gotta know something in her brain full of cotton and glitter. She sits down at the edge of the cliff, legs over the side, and pulls her guitar off her back.

“But,” Kakuzu adds.

Her smile is gone.

“I still don’t want it.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

They’re taking turns now, him once silly and her now serious. The scent of lake water fills her nose and wafts down the throat, puts an aftertaste in her mouth. “Can I ask why?”

“…”

Silence is the reply. He doesn’t want to enjoy it. How can you put that into words without seeming weak? He didn’t live this long being vulnerable. The performer beats him to the punch:

“I thought life wasn’t worth it unless you’re a little silly.”

The way his lips curl in disdain is utterly delicious, no possible better response to the pastel clown, the way his silky brown hair drifts down at an ever-so-slightly different angle as he tilts his chin lower. “...You said that,” he chastises. “Not me.”

“But you didn’t disagree!” Her own irises become half covered by their lids, an expression somewhere between playful and challenging. She raises a smooth but accusing gesture of her open palm, reaching forward to welcome excuses. “And you called me ‘duckling’!”

His glower narrows even further as he’s presented the truth. ...Touche. Let’s get to the point, then. “Why do you want to give it to me?” he counters a question with his own. She’s ready to the draw like a pistol’s at her hip.

“Because I love you.”

The bluntness of it…!

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Kakuzu snaps. It’s clear now that the upset on his face since being accused of lightheartedness is, in all entirety, real. She is making a grave mistake. “People will misunderstand you.” She loves everyone...everything...people will take it personally. People will take it harshly. People will simply take it— take her as a possession.

How hypocritical, he knows. But that doesn’t stop it from being true. Something else is, too, she counters:

“But I mean it.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even if she does, even if somewhere in one brain cell, in one iota, one molecule of her being...even if she loves him, then...—

Kakuzu spits the answer back.

“...Then you shouldn’t love me.”

He’s so beautiful in the moonlight, even when he’s mad. Maybe especially so.

“And yet I do.” A patient tone, as if she knows everything, as if facts do not change at all just because you believe in them. The back and forth is too quick for his liking; this is something she has given thought, a script to follow. It needs to end here...no matter how painfully.

“I’ve killed, Takara,” he explains, cold as the water, cold as the furthest star, throwing a list of reasons over his shoulder at her like knives. “You know this. Among killers, I am the worst. I’ve created nothing but dead bodies and stacks of cash, neither of which you’ve expressed interest in having. Stop loving me.”

He’s done it. He’s said it all. There’s no way for her to squirm out of this, to make-believe an answer she wants instead of one she needs. The hunter’s brow pinches further as she loses the joy in her face. His frown stretches wider to reveal teeth as her sweet lips part. His eyes shake in their sockets with the effort he takes to lock onto her, to make it seen without a shadow of a doubt that he is not, will never, be worthy of her trust.

But even the frog knows to stop singing when it’s time for truth to ring. There’s only silence until the woman finds her voice.

And merely, once again, she smiles.

“Kakuzu… Do you think I’m stupid?”

What? In a flash, his confidence gone, wiped away in millimeters of shifting muscles that make his expression from one of faux rage to that of stupor. The performer, in all her practice, has the upper hand of changing faces with ease.

“There’s a reason I’m like this, you know.” Smiling, smiling, and it reaches her eyes— it reaches her eyes, so it must be true. It boggles Kakuzu, even more so as she goes on. “I know what death is. I know about starvation and poverty and the goddamn feeling that nothing you can do matters. Kakuzu—” Her voice raises, “—That’s why I’m here!”

It’s so sweet, her voice. It’s saccharine, words dripping from the humidity in the air to trickle down his throat. It’s like he’s tasting arsenic again, horrid as his dismissive, childish nickname for her. Duckling. Oh, silly duckling, what did you do? What do you know?

“I fucking killed myself because I lost my goddamn job.”

The hell…? Suicide… Kakuzu could have believed she didn’t know what suicide was if you had asked him only yesterday. Literally or otherwise, clearly the woman means something grave by the tale she’s weaving. Why then why does she sound so hopeful?

If he’s in a world of shock, then he’s about to be electrocuted to the other dimension.

“I’m in debt 40,000 fucking dollars on a useless degree when my parents didn’t even teach me how to open a bank account, when they instructed me to slave away a decade of my life to get said degree to keep myself alive.”

The performer begins to talk with her hands, arms stretched wide with the massive stage backdrop of dark blue night. She is an actress, and she gets to spin the tale of her demise just for him to see.

“I know that even though things are really different here, humanity is still shitty and there’s always going to be assholes and politicians and war.”

One, two, three. She’s stopped looking at Kakuzu and instead using her index finger to point where she imagines the three words to be.

“That sometimes, no matter what you do or pick, things aren’t going to go well. If you’re the worst person I’m going to meet...I don’t care!”

Palms face up and open the space in front of her in full, sarcastic welcome.

“I’m dumb and silly and do stupid things as a choice because I don’t want fear to keep me from doing anything at all. I did it all already!”

Quieter, now. He is helpless but to stand there, to listen, to feel but even a sliver of what has happened to her to make her like this.

“I did the serious life and talked to no one except who I had to, worried about so much as existing in front of other people that it has become ingrained in my FUCKING DNA.” A firm pinch on the skin of her forearm before letting it go, letting her arms sink. “...That I’m just a nuisance that doesn’t know how to talk to anyone. I did it all. Did it all without a goddamn thing to show for it. Kakuzu, I didn’t expect a round two at the whole ‘life thing.’ If I end up dead for giving it another shot…” The woman shrugs, casually with nothing she can do to change fate. “...I have nothing to lose!”

Kakuzu has no mask to hide how his lips part, how his jaw drops. She motions dismissively with both hands, palms downward and flat as they cut sideways in the air as if to part it while she stands up.

“I’ve had enough!” she puts as simply as giving up her place in line at the DMV. “I told you how I felt and that’s all I can do. Not gonna wait for other people again. You can find me if you need—”

He grabs her wrist. All confidence leaves her voice, turning it into her mousy squeak once more.

“...Me.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The silence is long. It is awkward and painful and so very, very desperate. Even such a calculated mind needs time to sparse the details, effort to read past the raw emotion.

The question he has is, perhaps, not the first she expected, so soft it’d be unheard if he wore his mask:

…

…

“...How much is 40,000?”

A hum and a glance to the side before she returns to him, calm as can be. “So you know how a cup of soup costs 300 ryo?” He grunts. “That’d be like...six dollars.”

His brow furrows, though eyes stay wide as he runs the math, darting eyes counting with stars on an invisible abacus. “How,” he can merely breathe, “Did you get 2 million ryo in debt?!”

It’s criminal how she only shrugs to that number. That’s one that’d create a domino effect for a small nation, let alone ruin a single human being. There’s only one way you can speak about the bullshit, of course, and it’s with irony and humor, something the old man should be more than familiar with. “It’s the normal,” the performer sighs boredly. “Whole generation of kids got indoctrinated to believe that if you pay for higher education, you won’t be homeless. Hiked up the prices of college, and voila!” Her arms spread in presentation, a shit eating grin on her face, which she then points a finger into either cheek and twist around till it puts red marks on her skin. “You get a societal failure like me!”

Ineptitude of this grandiosity is impossible to wrap his mind around at the pace she’s running. Fake or not, this is quite the concept to imagine. “And you say this is normal?”

“YES!” He has never, ever, seen her more passionate about something, even singing, and perhaps he never will.

“The hell did you learn worth gambling your soul over?”

“Sociology,” she answers sharply with a point of the index finger; he’s beginning to see where she channels her body language from when performance is needed. She is, indeed, angry. He didn’t think it possible. She claps her hands every fourth word in the next statement. “I studied to be a goddamn sociologist because that’s what I’m interested in! Guess what I did for a living!”

The woman slaps her knees in rhetorical wait for a guess. She’s nearly manic, fire scorching in her eyes.

“I worked CUSTOMER SERVICE! I had to go to work the day my grandma died because they said they’d fire me if I took a day off, and then I performed so shittily that I got fired anyway!”

Kakuzu has never had so many questions in is goddamn life. “Specialization like yours...—” He tries to remember. Sociology...the study of societies, yes? That explains a lot about her, he guesses. Her tolerance for things, her willingness to withstand even Hidan’s religion. “—...worthless.”

“Apparently! But I’m not special.” Kakuzu follows her weaving of an economic nightmare with ease after seeing many in his own time on earth, words quiet on his tongue. Understanding doesn’t make it easier to swallow, though. He has to summarize, lest it all escape him:

“...An entire society of people so vastly in debt that they’re in servitude for all eternity.”

“Yes!”

“Despicable.”

“I know!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“And that’s how my country successfully functioned as a war-based economy.”

Kakuzu is beside himself, laying on his back next to her as they stare at the constellations, some of which she can name. He only managed to delay the inevitable. He did, after all, stay up till morning with a woman who should really be in bed.

“I…underestimated your knowledge.”

Too tired to add much more, she just shrugs. “It’s okay. I can’t blame you.”

But it can’t stop there; he has to wrap around to something she mentioned so briefly in passing, minutes and maybe even hours behind several adjacent topics of conversation. Question is...if it’s all theoretical or otherwise.

“...You said you killed yourself.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The frog continues on his own as she’s quiet now, no longer just thinking of herself as a statistic, as a symptom of a weary and sick society. The stranger is her own person, the only one that can be responsible for herself. Such care is overwhelming, exhausting, and so she can’t manage to repeat herself. Kakuzu sighs, this time finally in a way meant to be heard.

“...This is all hard to believe.”

“I know,” she answers, unaffected, eyes missing above. “You don’t have to.”

That’s something they have in common. They don’t have to believe any of the details about each other in order to know the core of the matter.

But that does leave one more thing…

“Don’t tell anyone. Okay?” He stares, stares with his whole uncovered, stitched face, but even if he’d beg, the woman couldn’t bring herself to look back as she pleads for her life. “That’s the only thing interesting about me… That’s...my whole backstory. Okay?”

Defensively, that ‘okay’ is said. Tired eyes draw closer to shut, lost in space, lost in wherever her soul may have flown off to so long ago.

“...That I’m a fucking failure.”

She whispers her deepest sins, sans pity-worthy details. Somehow she cries even more over the welfare of two bloodthirsty ninja than her own poor self, not even a tear. Perhaps they’ve all dried up long ago over this thing, this ghost that haunts her.

“I didn’t even kill myself right.”

There’s no choice in his mind. He has to touch her. He has to bring her close. He begins by reaching forward, slow as not to frighten the delicate creature. His palm merely brushes against her cheek, merely asks it to move to face him through the chilled grass instead of force it to. But he can’t make her eyes look back. She’s biting the inside of her lip, both to shut herself up and to punish for that which she feels shame. She talks too much. Thinks too much.

Yet not enough at all.

She’s so tired of trying to figure it out. What more does he want? What can she say to make him feel better, stop worrying? The whole speech she gave was supposed to make it better, to make him less upset. She’s still a fuck-up. Such a fuck-up...

“I don’t have more to offer,” the dead dreamer consoles, wondering if he can feel her disgrace through a shiver she has in this night air, upon the near-morning dew. “People are...being so nice to me. Treating me precious. Your leader thinking I’m special.” A bitter chuckle. “...I think if the whole ‘Jashin plopped me down from the stars just to meet Hidan’ bit was true, it’d make more ironic sense. At least God would be funny about the whole damn thing.”

Wit, resentful wit. It tastes familiar in his own mouth, but doesn’t sound the same arriving to his ears. Not from that voice which puts tales of fairies and unicorns to shame. It’s too pretty for this. And yet…

And yet.

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

He has a solution, at least of some sort. Kakuzu replies to his musician:

"...More ironic than finding success?" It stings. It fucking stings. Her eyes squeeze shut, teeth grit, and Kakuzu’s afraid to move even an inch, even to take his rough hand away. Tears finally find a way out. They’re hot against his skin.

His skin feels like home. Even if she doesn’t know what that is.

As a hand with no ring comes up to clasp his, the bounty hunter notices something he’s never seen before. His whole life, he’s been one color. Let’s say...blue. He sees others, the way they affect one another, and sees their colors hope to make something beautiful but begin to muddle, begin to be unsightly and regretful and permanent. He keeps his hands to himself; he will not take part, not any further than the betrayal of his homeland turned the sclera of his eyes bloody, bruised red. And then, so long down the road, it surprises him when someone brave enough to ignore the warning signs grasps his hand herself, holds it so lovingly. She’s yellow, like tart lemons and stripes on bumblebees. She catches onto him long enough to dye him, at least a little, the stain reaching further and further up his arm like watercolor on wet paper. Being yellow means he is no longer just blue; he is no longer what he knows, what he can control. It’s scared him. So foolishly, it has, and yet he had reason to fear; his dyed hand, after all, is the one that hurt her.

What he didn’t see till now is that she’s more than one color, too. A drop, intense as condensing all of the ocean but small as the beads of dew, has found its way from the top of her scalp, dripping its hue downward in a line over her lips. She is changed. It just took time to bleed down from where cool-toned fingers pat a warm head of hair.

In front of him, his blue is crawling down her body. He’s feared it all along, and yet...it is not the worst, not the thing he truly did not want.

Despite it all...he never realized he was blue at all, that he was acting so defensively. That he had been afraid of being anything. It’s a lot to realize about yourself all at once:

That he is changed, too.

Sunshine’s aura washes into the fingers of his that touch her, from too the fingers of hers that touch him back.

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The quivering of holding back sobs eases away. Eyes drenched crack open. Her thumb evaluates how stitches feel. Calming, lake-toned azure eases her suffering, at least dulls it into a more distant throb than a sharp pang. His skin feels like...leather. It matches the color, a soft shade of brown. She wonders if this is part of why threads weave into him so easily. "Kakuzu..." He returns, not with her name but what she is to him:

“Takara.”

She still does not know what her name means. She asks something nearly the same as asking for that:

“Why are you so nice to me?”

She speaks of it as if it’s worse than her trying to die.

“I don’t know.” But he does. But it’d taint her more to admit it. Gently, oh so gently, she moves their hands to be clasped over her heart.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispers, soft as soft can be, like even a feather could tip the balance and collapse it all for good, things too good to be true crumbling until it turns to dust, the ashes of her cremation. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready for the dream to end.”

…

Kakuzu makes a gamble. He imagines her hand in his as rolling the dice, feeling luck and magic on his fingertips, making him breathless with risk.

“...Then make me a promise.”

“Anything.”

…

…

“You say you love me,” the man finally speaks. His volume so small matches hers, matches the wicked feelings. “How much do you love me?” There’s no time for her to interrupt his answer. “Enough to live?”

The most he could ever ask of her. It’s the challenge of a lifetime. His voice, so soft, so low, sends tingles down her spine. The answer is clear, even if impossible:

“Yes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, she finally does it. Rose-tinted glasses and bow-tied hat on, she holds her guitar in the piano room and has told everyone she has a song to sing. But it’s for him.

It’s for all of them, but it’s for him.

Kakuzu ignores Tobi’s excited shoving of Hidan’s arm, bumping the Jashinist into his side. The swearing washes over him, distant and meaningless. The piercing gaze of the Uchiha is no more, nor is the sharp teeth of the animal he calls his partner. Everyone is here, but all eyes are on her.

A strum of the strings, a flick of her wrist, and she practices making a second chance worth the while.

It’s a childish song, the dreaded “s word” that Kakuzu has thought so much, heard too much. It’s about a man that grew out of the ground with a goofy grin on his mug, follows you around like a smiley-face tick. You carry on with your mundane, useless chores, sappy and homey and ridiculous all at once. You change one another.

For better or worse. Bad things happen. Tragedy is inevitable.

Oh...oh...oh… Her melody hums, thick as honey from her tongue. Kakuzu is certain this song is about him, and it is. But it’s also about her. And she’s not willing to let this song end as badly as a prior lifetime. The last “oh” starts low, but it soars, high and hopeful to the heavens. Her stance widens and she looks up to the sky as if it’s hers to claim.

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

She wishes she knew how to drive a motorcycle, longs for the wind in her hair and the excitement; it’s what she feels, it’s what would be appropriate. She closes her eyes and arsenic has the aftertaste of adventure. The image pops in her head: her hands on the handles, coolest leather vest in town as a leather-textured boy hangs on her back, her for once in charge of there they go. She has no idea that this is the case all along. Wherever Kakuzu’s arm is dragged, he now follows his treasure to the ends of the earth. The lyrics repeat, the names unknown but the sentiment as clear to the treasurer as their starry night sky:

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

Yellow and blue make such a refreshing shade of green.

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

'Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

Yeah, we're the bitterest guys around

It’s far too audacious as she abruptly walks over, goes from one man to the next, how she finishes by leaning into Kakuzu’s free side as if he’d have nothing to say about it. He is cloaked, garbed in red clouds of death and a dark mask to conceal his face. To everyone else, he is pretending not to notice...

...But to the stranger, he cannot hide how the smile reaches his eyes, even if he's still unsure to welcome the emotion or try to shove it away. He’s learned so much from the person he’s intended to teach.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“AAAAAAH-!”

The woman screams as she’s tossed unceremoniously up to the clouds, feeling the force of gravity first in the way that her body attempts to break it, climbing up and up and up with the power of his throw. A couple of times on roller coasters have prepared her instincts well: her stomach sinks in anticipation for the rest of her, just as the acceleration slows and the drop is about to begin.

“AAA—” … And she waits for a fall that does not come. “...Oh…?” The first thing in her vision is the bright blue sky in contrast to the vast forest. Wow...what a view. It’s open like she’s high above—

—Oh. Oh Jesus. Is she really two stories up in the air? TOBI?!

A heavy, heavy sigh is heard from an open window nearby, practically behind her ear. It wakes her up to look down, first at the guys staring up at her from the ground, then a bit closer to her own self. Black threads wrap around her body, around from her back and then loop over and over around her legs; it feels as secure as, well, if you somehow warped metal straight out of the flame to a custom fit just for you. The sight of herself is enough to swallow further shrieks, much to the relief of he who has rescued her from such reckless affairs.

Kakuzu leans down, open fist outside the threshold of the window pane with threads weaving out of rips in his skin that keep her in place. Menacingly, his glower rolls down to the ants below. "You...stupid motherfuckers."

"IT WAS TOBI, JACKASS!" Hidan quickly accuses, pointing to the culprit. A growl and a death glare is all it takes for the masked man to whine like a scared puppy. That’s good enough to appease Kakuzu. For now.

Ironically enough, it's his turn in this ridiculous game: "Come on, then..."

The three watch as the woman flies back into the house, a small eek on the back of her tongue and window promptly shut behind her with a slam. A moment of silence, all four men staring up to where she was spirited away.

…

…

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” Hidan states without any urgency, glancing over to the orange spiral. “He’s kind of famous for that.” And though Tobi fakes shaking in his boots very, very convincingly, everyone else still thinks he’d deserve it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What a mess, Kakuzu thinks. He exhales, fully undressed besides a pair of pants, no face covering nor shirt to cover his unnerving stitches. Thanks, Tobi. A small “oof” is muttered as the woman is set down on his bed without a second glance, man himself turning around to retain what little respect he has left. It's an opportunity for the performer to briefly gain her bearings. Kakuzu’s room, she vaguely recalls. Really has been inside it only once— no, not even inside . She’s only seen into it less than a handful of times. Frankly, it’s pretty...ordinary. It’s clean. It at first seems to lack hobbies. No piles of clay, no sword to polish (re-wrap??? Samehada is a stick of bandages, after all), no circle to pray in. But it becomes apparent that what he has instead of things to humor him is...finances. Receipts and bills are nicely organized or are in a pile waiting to be, a bingo book of wanted criminals open that perhaps may promise enough funds to keep this makeshift horrid fucking family alive another day. A couple of briefcases are neatly lined next to his desk, metal and heavy looking as if to transport valuables.

Her head shifts side to side. Grumbling, taking no heed, the treasurer has walked over to his closet in search of attire to make him better suited to be around a lady. He forgets so easily that the strangest thing about him isn't just the stitches but what they lead to on his backside…

"What...?"

Thinking this is about the metal threads, he looks over his shoulder as she finally looks to him and speaks. “They—” he begins. But, oh. Oh, no, it isn’t those her eyes are locked on; the threads have slunk back into his hollowed body already. What he sees, instead, is her pointing squarely at the masks. There's four of them, different animals and colors.

"Are those...attached to you?"

Ah. Right. Damn . He exhales yet again, not moving so she gets a good long look, ogles to her heart's content at the freak he is, get it out of the way. Guess it was inevitable she find out. "Yes." Then he reaches forward, a tank top chosen off the shelf with an open back for these creatures. It’s more comfortable, for one, and for another makes it easier to fight if they don’t have to pop through and ruin a perfectly good shirt. Never can be too prepared. Not too fast as to not scare, he turns his front back around despite his bare chest facing her. She looks so small, somehow, head hunched down and eyes angled up as she sits upon the edge of his own bed. How do they always get off the wrong foot when they don't even try?

"I'm sorry." Because of course she is. There’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

One thing is sure: "Don't be."

A thread drifts away from his bicep like an autonomous, thin tentacle, locking the door just in time to hear the nob shift futility and Hidan knock ever so impatiently to be let in. His head turns sharply, a snarl on his face. She notes how the way his eyes scrunch up is such a common expression above his usual mask; does he always frown like that when they do? "Give the girl ten damn minutes without your nonsense!"

Vague but clearly angry response muddles through the closed door, but Kakuzu's expression stays and so does his order. A moment of silence and gradually the arguing fades, something about promising to be back later. The hunter’s tense brow relaxes and so do the corners of his lips, and red and green eyes stop bulging. In. Out. He catches his breath and turns boiling rage to a simmer. For her sake. Calm down, for her sake.

The stitches on his face move with his cheeks, she can tell from where she grips the edge of the bed; they are, most certainly, not just burns or scars or face paint. His eyes catch hers, a challenge in them that regains a sliver of the anger he managed to beat back, daring her to call him a monster. Unnatural. Hideous. It’s all true, just get it over with. A flash of something else was before that, though, on his face. It's an emotion that feels familiar in her own chest.

Despite his expectations, she reaches out to him, slowly raising her wrist with a begging, upward-facing palm. He doesn't flinch, eyes starting at the woman’s fingertips, trailing up her arm and to her face.

"...What?"

How can she say it? Both palms, now, come back, gesturing together for him to come here. Out of pure confusion and desire to know what the hell she means, Kakuzu simply obeys.

Shaky hands go to the brown arm as he grunts with the unexpected contact, even as her touch is more gentle than he could have imagined. Maybe even especially so. As she sits on his bed, one hand goes under his palm to steady it in place while the other wanders up to explore, both visually and tactilly...

The bounty hunter…has two tattooed bands on his forearm. At first she assumed that's where they come from, but no, the actual stitches are higher up, unmistakable as the source of his eldritch-seeming threads. She traces up to the shoulder, then under his chin. There's even more of these lines on his torso, seen far, far too easily as he hasn’t yet slipped on his top in this unexpected intermission, and she can tell they all lead like train tracks to the masks embedded into his latissimus dorsi. Her eyes consume him, taste him, know him. She's far from the first to witness him like this, in battle or otherwise, and so he ignores the sense of novelty that washes over him and behaves with expectations that are tried and true. Something Kakuzu and his musician have in common is how they’ll insult themselves with the truth before you can turn it against them first.

"...I know. I know what I look like." But she acts like she hasn't . She's seen him before, though, the times she barged in at the peak of midnight...why is it different now?

Sometimes trauma heightens the senses, lets you take in things better than before. The quivering touch of the performer moves to reach further upon his skin, still. In awe, fingertips barely brush against his chest and most unbelievably, he doesn't stop her.

Tears well up on her eyes, which to his surprise turn up to his own instead of staying locked lower down on his ugly, deformed self.

"Does it hurt?"

...That’s not something he's been asked before. IF it hurt, yes, when “it” happened decades ago. If it does when hearts pump out of his back to attack and spew the elements at his enemies. Yes and yes, answers to both as well as if others have been so brave as to inquire directly to the bastard himself. But does he hurt now , merely existing with this curse? It's been so long with the aches stitched into him that he's forgotten, so he searches the numbness under his skin for what the answer may be.

"...Yes," he discovers, despite how it might make her cry. He knows she likes the truth. "...But it's better than before,” Kakuzu softens. In several ways. Better off with than without them. Better off than being fully human. Better off than being dead.

He sits down next to her and unbelievably, after rubbing the saltwater from her face, this woman shifts. Yes, yes, he is not mistaken; this woman now crawls onto his lap.

And he lets her. 

All hearts pounding in discordant, unmatched pulses, he lets her. Legs wrap around his side, thighs seated atop his own. She trusts him. Even after everything, even seeing him like this...—? Oh so delicately, with a hesitance that draws her away before curiosity pulls her back in, this soothing lady traces the metal woven into him. The way he is… It reminds her of something. Something distinct. A visceral sort of memory, one from long, long ago…

…Kakuzu notices before she does that his performer is humming.

It's a tune both sweet and melancholy, befitting a creature like her and somehow, too, the way she approaches a beast like him. His gaze softens, lips no longer a stern, stretched line, and he drinks her wonder in. Kakuzu missed the songs that used to always tinge her voice, and this is the first it’s come back since she has come back home to him, even if so, very small.

“...Oh…!” The woman pulls back, somehow both after too long and far too soon, and she...smiles up at him. This…who he is…makes her happy? “...You remind me of...a rag doll.”

…

Dark brown hair drifts past his face as he savors that nickname, elaborates to himself on the implications. He’s been called it before, yeah...usually just before deciding to detach the person by their arteries. How can it seem so... kind from those lips? So adoring…? She has an answer, and it’s silly just like her.

“When I was little…” the performer tries to explain with stilted words, as plainly as she can so as to not confuse, “...I loved a story. It had a rag doll...who...stuffed herself with leaves.”

The Frankenstein's Monster stays silent, does so regardless of if there’s more for her to add. The slightest, softest inhale and the humming begins again...this time closer to the singing the Akatsuki miss, just without words. Down, up, and up...down… Down, up, and up...down… Lovely indeed, whatever it is, even if simple and bouncy. It was, after all, one of the first melodies she memorized on her own volition. Idly, she traces him again, finding a spot just at his collarbone and right at her line of sight. The threads are stiffer than they look, less like woven fabric and more like surgical staples. How do they move with such lithe grace, so little effort?

As she ponderers this question, one of his own springs off Kakuzu's tongue like a diving board.

“...You never sang when you were alive?” To his relief, the humming doesn’t stop; it’s such a piece of her, this melody that she can do it without thinking. A free hand wipes her eye again, and despite the nature of everything, her tiny smile does not waver nor flinch away as she answers.

“...I wanted to,” she murmurs after a moment, voice light and wispy much the same way as she seems next to someone rough like himself. “I wanted to be a singer...a musician…” A guitarist, a keyboard player, a...star. A performer. “I...learned...to stop doing it...just because I felt I had to, and started doing it...for fun by myself.”

Eyes close, and she tries to identify these marks on him with touch alone, tries to narrow down exactly what he feels like skin on skin. Kakuzu wonders if she can feel how his pulse is stronger than one any normal person should have.

“You could have been.” And she is now, he reminds himself. Or at least she will be once this nonsense is said and done and she can get back to a nondescript civilian life. But...she shakes her head.

“Too scared,” the woman says, “Too shy.”

“How do you know that? Did you try?” Perhaps foolish to challenge; the thing she is surest in besides the persistent strength of humanity is the failures of her own making.

“I had the chance...I was offered...to be in a play…” The smile widens, showing teeth and hiding a grimace. “...I was too little and too scared. And I never…”

…

She doesn’t continue that thought.

“Why didn't you try again? You were just a child, right? Children are allowed to be wrong.” But as soon as he says it, he knows this isn’t true. He knows from experience. So does she. A long, painful silence...and then her eyes open. The humming continues, sweet and sad. She reaches up into his hair, delicately, to see if it feels as smooth as it looks.

"She falls in love with someone...who can't see his demise coming,” the woman explains of the rag doll with leaves. His brown hair is silky and soft. “She tries to help. In the end...it gets her in trouble. He realizes she's in danger and saves her." Kakuzu raises a brow, stitches at his mouth exaggerating a purse of his lips.

"What monster pairs with a living rag doll?" And to his surprise, she beams once more:

"A skeleton!"

...Oh. He grunts, his way of chuckling without being so vulnerable as to give off actual mirth, eyes hooding and smirk forming. "I know what you're going to say, Takara...that that’s like us."

The combing stops, big eyes blinking their befuddlement as the curled fingers pull away. "Excuse me?"

...Oh, dammit. She has never even seen Hidan's ritual form, and so Kakuzu feels his face flush at making the connection himself. Goddammit… As if Hidan could ever save him. It's always the other way around...

"Am...am I...a...a skeleton?" she stutters, not getting it.

"No,” he cuts in sharply. Too sharp, in fact— “I mean— ...never mind."

…

…

The now free hands of the woman fidget index fingers, pressing tip against tip. "There's another character...that's filled with bugs," she adds, as if this is helpful in any way whatsoever.

"…" Kakuzu answers, gaze narrowed and mouth in a straight line.

"I like bugs."

And so he exhales yet-fucking-again. "Takara, you're very fortunate I happen to be tolerant of the dumb shit you say." Hidan owes him for that, too, really.

"Oh." The woman on his lap doesn't need to say: she's sorry. She gets shy and withdrawn and her hands drift even further away. Exasperated, Kakuzu takes them into his own grasp.

"...But it's better than you never talking again."

He can't touch her with his own hands; surely he's too rough, both literally and figuratively. The threads come instead, strange and cold and inhuman. It only makes her remember what it was like to hold him by the fingers, though, as she did once when Kakuzu taught her how to read the stars.

"...Can I ask you something rude?"

What a weird thing to ask. He shrugs, just barely so not to shake her too much up and down as she sits on him. Is this fine? Is she safe so close to him? Is it proper for a man to let her do it? And yet he can’t bring himself to pull them apart. "Alright."

"Why is your skin... so...?"

It isn’t a sigh this time as he releases air from heavy lungs, but a chuckle. You can tell it comes from deep in his chest, even if quiet. "It'd be rude if you ignored it. That's just how I am now."

She blinks again, lashes fluttering. "You weren't... always...?"

"No. I was someone else a long time ago."

"Like me?"

…

He thinks about this, long and hard. This girl does, after all, remind him of who he used to be. So what does that mean of her before? He recalls her mentions of a life before a death, an existence riddled with agony, debt, and servitude. A broken loyalty to a system that felt nothing for her, and waking up to abandon it by any means necessary. …So, perhaps, they have switched lives. Silly boy to serious man. Serious woman to silly girl. Funny how life works out. They both had a death of sorts in between to make it happen, and here they are.

"Sure. Like you, I guess."

"Thank you," she responds inexplicably, despite the implications he sees, an emotion so bright dripping from her mouth like honey from a hive. There isn’t even a blush on her face; with the next action, it’s all whimsy and instinct and no thought whatsoever. It has to be, to be so silly.

The woman leans up and presses a kiss on his forehead, for once bare of the headband marked with his betrayal. A sensation tingles down his own cheeks, down his neck, into the depths of five dark hearts. Despite it all...he feels joy. It makes him tense up. Alas, this is so easy to pick up on with how close they are, and she jerks back immediately, crawling off his lap just as quickly as she got on. Now her face is red.

"Sorry…! I—... Sorry."

Sorry... That’s the right word for giving a guy like him the time of day, the warmth from a sixth blood-pumping organ somehow tied inseparably to his quintet. "It's fine,” he responds in calculation, choosing not to tell her how much he enjoyed it. “Just...be careful who you do that to. Alright?"

Instead of asking why, she simply says, unable to look him in the face: "I'm bad…" And calmly— oh so calmly compared to a moment ago— he retorts, his own voice murmured and already longing for her song.

"I didn't say that."

...

"I meant it,” the taki-nin elaborates, both as a comfort and an admonition. “We're all like this, Takara. ...If not outside like me then on the inside. Keep your wits about you. Save your affection for those who are deserving. It isn’t you that’s wrong, here. If someone has to be called 'bad'…" Childish worldview as it is, to be so black and white, the answer is undeniable. “...It’s us. They threw you, for god’s sake.”

"But...I...—"

"And if you can't," he adds selfishly, and the next is a whisper. "At least be tactful about it." The scariest part about what happens next is that he does, indeed, mull it over before it’s done. The outcomes are considered, the details poured over, and the fool still does exactly as he's warned her of.

A press of his world-weary lips comes from out of nowhere yet arrives so, so gently, just as soon pulling back before she can even tell what's happened. And though he isn’t brimming with sunshine like Takara can, this old man still can’t hide he’s making a silly, silly choice. "...Duckling."

And that’s it. There’s the slightest smirk on his face as he slinks backwards off the bed, visible until Kakuzu turns around and throws the signature cloak of his ilk over leathery-textured shoulders. The traveler gapes, what she thought as her mistake now his confirmation—

“Oi!” another guilty pleasure beckons impatiently behind Kakuzu’s locks. The bounty hunter huffs, allowing the woman one last opportunity to see a widening grin before the mask slips back on.

“Perfect timing.”

Before she knows it, another, paler set of arms come around the performer, Hidan complaining with his chin upon her head of her terrible, unforgivable absence for all of ten minutes. It really is over so very, very quickly. It has to be, lest the choices grow poorer and poorer between a half-naked man and a lady not even back to herself.

But he hums the lonely rag doll’s song back to himself all the same in private the rest of this day, up through dinner, in the bath, hell— maybe even in his sleep. It somehow sounds just fine on his old, gravely tongue as a mind re-walks the life it’s led just to work up to something as stupid and risky as this. Dead leaves fall down past the window where the zombie scooped her into his waiting lap, and he wonders what it would be like to stuff them underneath his patchwork skin.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Are you serious?”

A response like that and it's obvious why the woman squirms in embarrassment, looking away and locking her knees as she holds a prized possession tightly to her chest, though it hasn't been with her as long as the phone she shared with Deidara. Book to her chest, she nearly looks like a schoolgirl; that is, if she was a schoolgirl from Hell. Kakuzu narrows his scrutinizing stare. He’s wearing his face covering and hood, but only the eyes are needed for Jashin’s worst disciple to feel his harsh judgment.

“It’s never...felt like the right time!” Yeah, sure. The lady has time to tell Kakuzu she’s a suicide victim from another dimension but not any to tell her supposed "first friend" she can’t fucking read. Silence alone is capable of speaking this aloud, whether it is from the immortal or if it is her own making. Regardless, the truth of her hypocrisy is enough to make her hum with agitation, skin upon her face bright red. “I know, I know...I’m sorry.”

Kakuzu can’t help but lower his head and pinch his temple at that nonsense. “Takara...it isn’t me you need to apologize to.”

“I know—” The defense is quick...but then hits the reality, and her shoulders drop. “...I know,” she repeats, softer and wiser, hooded gaze locked on the lefthand wall, though it isn’t far enough to keep Kakuzu out of her peripheral, and that alone is enough to make her realize she’s hiding, even if metaphorically. Lids shut and she exhales hard, slumping her shoulders. “I just...don’t know where to begin.”

It is so, so tempting to be a smartass right now, but the tone she carries tells him that’s the last thing she needs. An exhale of his own, lighter behind his mask, and the stitched man reaches forward and gestures with an exasperated “give it” gesture. And though she hesitates, it is only because she wishes she did not have to. All the same, Hidan’s wretched, literally bloody bible is put into trusted hands.

“I’ll do it just this once,” the old man grumbles, though he has no idea what is going to stop her from asking again and him from giving in so readily to those big star-reading eyes. He feels the woman sit by his side as he observes the book itself. “I still can hardly believe he managed the damn thing.” The front cover, barely attached now with how hard Hidan tried to carve his own sigil onto it, is folded open. Hands so practiced with flipping pages feel the age of the ones upcoming, a finger tracing over the folds. “The blood certainly didn’t help the damage this one already must have had…” he laments. Not his kind of book, whatever sort of fairy tale this used to hold, but still seems like a waste... Though perhaps, since it was abandoned, becoming something else at the hands of a crazed prophet was the next best thing.

...The woman is so close, her cheek resting on his bare arm, usual cloak draping on the back of the couch instead of over his shoulders. A palm moves to rest on his thigh, and the way it feels makes him look over to her. To his own surprise, he speaks not with admonishment but with concern. “You’re tense,” Kakuzu observes. She nods.

“Kakuzu…” the performer mutters, looking lost in letters on a page that could mean absolutely anything. “...He made this so long ago...what if there’s something he’s meant for me to know this whole time? Working on the assumption that I just...get it and agree?” She’s already hardly on board with the whole ‘kill people’ thing, if even that. Hidan’s...a lot, to say the least, but what if...what if…?

...There’s a lot of what ifs, all of a sudden. That’s why she hasn’t told him yet she hasn’t read it.

“Like what?” Hidan’s partner prods, trying to decide if he’s savoring the sensation of her touching him so tenderly or merely noticing it, based on how much it’s sticking out to his attention. But she’s just quiet, the words she wants to say either nonsensical or merely impossible to describe. The resulting action is that she sinks ever closer, like she can disappear under his skin.

“Can I tell you something?”

That’s her way of saying she’s asking for emotional labor, which is honestly appreciated to consent to in advance. “...I suppose,” he allows.

Ah shit, where does she begin? There’s a thousand layers with a thousand more strings threading them together, stitching her heart into a whole human being. It’s just something so fundamental that it’s overwhelming to consider, to try to help someone see how you see without getting lost on the way there. Perhaps the only thing that can be done is start at the beginning…

“The...the day we first met,” the woman ties to explain, and she wonders if he can tell how her pulse is racing. “Hidan took me out to eat...and when I told him I was kidnapped...he said I wasn’t pretty.”

Kakuzu’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at first, though they soon narrow to nearly slits. “...What.” She squirms yet again, burrowing a little lower into his side.

“It...made sense in the context,” she tries to defend once more, “Talking about...why I might have been kidnapped.”

That doesn’t solve that much for Kakuzu, however. “So what?”

…

So everything, really. Her lungs empty again. What comes next may come across like a non sequitur, though it’s far from it for the traveler.

“Kakuzu...you— you were my first kiss...you know?” And finally, finally, she shifts to look up at him. All of a sudden, it makes sense; face so innocent, hands so scared, heart so gentle. Far, far from how Hidan and Kakuzu have lived their lives. And she picks them...? “And…” a smile flickers, genuine despite her anxiety. “...It was...wonderful.”

It’s his turn to heat up now, though it’s hidden behind fabric. He tilts his head to glance down. This is the first they’ve talked about it since it happened... A quick glance to the exit he faces, a quick sensing of chakra— at least as well as he can— and he decides this is safe, so long as their voices stay low.

“...I’m flattered you think so,” he replies sincerely, though so, so tempted to joke that it isn’t much of a compliment if she has only kissed once. The squiggly, shy smile she gives is more than enough reward for holding his tongue so obediently.

“I love you…!” But then...her expression so slowly drops. “I...need to tell you something." It's so, so worried. "And it’s okay if you don’t like it. You just have to know.”

He blinks with a short grunt. What could that mean? “Whatever you say won’t be as bad as you think it is,” Kakuzu assures. But she shakes her head in disagreement.

“You might not like me anymore,” she says, despite every alarm in her brain telling her to stop here. “And that just has to be okay.” Just as she turns to look away, lest she lose her nerve to talk at all, a leathery hand, as delicately as a brute like him can, takes two fingers underneath her chin and pulls her back. The only part of his face visible, still, are his eyes, but that’s all that’s needed.

“Tell me,” he says. And he means it. No anger, no harm, will befall her today. “It’ll be just fine.”

And maybe, just maybe, it will. The woman’s smallest smile comes forth, a teardrop welling in one eye that she shoves away with the back of her hand; Kakuzu’s own pulls back, allowing space. “Okay…” she promises, steeling herself.

With only the books on the shelf to hear, she tells him a secret. The woman had no idea until...well...the exact day is unknown. It more so...crept up on her. Little by little, it became apparent that a piece of her was becoming more prominent...something she never thought would have opportunity to be heard...and not everyone may understand.

“There’s...something from my world,” she starts, though backtracks already. “Though I suppose it may have a name here, too.” Surely it exists, but is it known? Is it accepted? “It’s...it’s like..." she struggles. "You know how people say they give their heart to you and only you?”

He does, though perhaps he's experienced it in a more literal manner. ...Damn, he’s on fire today. Shame it’s not the right place or time to be stand up comedian. As such, Kakuzu allows the woman to continue.

“I...never really understood it,” she admits, making herself so small, and though something deep inside tells her to feel guilty, her heart and mind both know better. It took a long time to get so far as to recognize this is how she is, let alone speak it. “I always thought of love as...bottomless. You know? Like how it can be unconditional. Energy is real and finite, yeah, but…”

You’re halfway there. Just spit it out.

...

...

“I don’t...feel...love...the same way others do. At least...how most others seem to. I can feel love...for more than one person at once.” And you need to elaborate: “Without feeling the need...to...choose.”

He doesn’t move. Not an inch. That could mean anything.

“Y-y-you don’t have to spend time with me,” she apologizes in so many words, tumbling fast as they can before Kakuzu can interrupt. It’s already unbelievable she’s been kissed at all; what if he doesn’t feel that way anymore? What if she just threw it all out the window?! “If that makes you uncomfortable.”

…

…

A shake.

Her eyes pop wide. She feels him tremble. Bit by bit, the stirring inside him grows. And it scares the shit out of her, so much so she sits straight up and stops pressing skin against skin. It scares her...until…

…

He squeezes his eyes shut...and...

The man chuckles.

To her amazement, from deep in his chest and five hearts, he feels joy. She watches in both confusion and awe, gaze flicking up at down over him as he raises a hand to cover a mouth already unseen. Almost like hiccups, a few more laughs come before the man takes in a steadying breath and opens his eyes once again to look at her. There's mirth in them that perhaps no one else has gotten to see.

“Is that all?” And it’s so silly how she perks up in surprise at that. “Listen..." he elaborates, "I’ve been alive longer than most. Certainly longer than you...unless you’re immortal too.” ...Did he tell her that yet? Well, damn. Explanations can come in due time if necessary. “I’ve seen a lot of unbelievable shit. And duckling?”

Duckling, she hears the word ring in her ear like a sweet, sweet bell.

“That’s far from it.”

...It takes a second before her mouth knows how to talk again. “You...you don’t mind?”

“Again. Far from it,” he snorts, tilting his head and hooding his eyelids so coyly, putting an arm over the top of the couch so as to exaggerate his relaxed state. “I knew from the start. You...just love everyone.” And a raise of the brow with enough pause to make sure she sees it. “...Didn’t I tell you so? That’s why I warned you.” Warned her to be strategic about her affections, that is.

And now her mouth is merely open because she is dumbfounded. “You...knew?!”

And he nods.

Blink blink. “I...oh…” And though her cheeks never stopped flushing, somehow the blush takes on a whole new meaning. Kakuzu...understands. He...understands!

“I’m guessing you’re worried Hidan might not get it, too.”

There it is. The heart of the matter. He regrets hopping right to it, as it makes her shrink up just as much as before, but it needs to be done; she didn't bring this up for nothing. And indeed, she did have purpose: “Well, yeah...but...that’s not really the issue, per say. He just...doesn’t...like me that way. And that’s fine! It’s just…”

…

“You want him to.”

She nods, guiltily. “But the one thing I’ve learned is you can’t force people to change how they feel. You can only change what you do about it.”

“Wise words from a silly little duckling.” And though she smiles again, it is still more nervous than happy, so he has to explain. “Takara...I can’t pretend to know that. What he really thinks.” Of course not. “But. I can tell you what I’ve seen. Even he doesn’t ‘love you’, whatever the hell that really means...the damn man is changed. Trust me. I spend every waking moment with the bastard.”

She spurts a giggle, indignant.

“You laugh, but really,” he returns with the slightest dismissive raise of his wrist. And then he turns forward again in his seat, grasp to return to Hidan’s writings meant only for his disciple. Kakuzu lifts it up in demonstration. “No matter what is in this damn book...he’s not the same man he was when he made it, I figure. You of all people should know that affection is so fucking tumultuous… Who gives a shit if he thinks you’re pretty? He’s your friend.” Then the clincher, asking her to think for herself: "Right?"

That's the hardest part. The bottom lip, already scarred from similar, prior action, is bit. Unable to take it, Kakuzu exhales once more and cups her chin again, leaning close so she can focus on nothing else. If she admires him...he's going to make use of it. The next words are whispered.

“That’s something I never thought he had in him.”

The gentle fingers linger away, the woman’s eyes fluttering as she drinks it all in. “He’s...my friend.”

Kakuzu dips his head affirmatively. “Yeah." But enough of that; too many emotions already. "Now let’s get this over with and read this goddamn book.” Then...a sharpness in his stare, a mischievous gleam. “...Unless you want to tell me more about how the likes of me was your first kiss.”

Though it isn’t the sort of easy choice Kakuzu meant it to be for her, the intended answer is still obvious. Still in disbelief, like it’s all a dream, she nods again herself and slides back next to the large rag doll, so warm and kind despite how hard she makes it to be. Whatever is in that book, it has to be okay.

“Let’s see…” he murmurs, soon as she's nice and cozy. No backing down now...

And the minutes pass like nothing, smooth as melting butter. Hidan’s written word begins with mostly what is expected— the best way to draw your ritual circle, the preferred sources of blood both for individuals and for the spots on their body, the nuances of modern dririmancy— but then, page by page, it drifts into something more...metaphysical.

Kakuzu never really gave due credit before how eloquent his partner can be, how well thought. Of course, he has a whole mindset— a whole religion to justify his actions— but the elaboration of it...the depth of introspection Hidan took...Kakuzu becomes wrapped up in it.

And there comes a point that he begins to read out loud less for the performer and more for himself, his own enraptured curiosity.

There comes a point where a man, immortal or not, has to admit his shortcomings. I’m not a genius. I’m not dumb, but I only know what I know. The thing I pray for most, each time you see me put the pendent up to my face, is an answer. I don’t know what it means for there to be a neighbor I don’t want to lose. That’s Jashin’s core tenant, after all: slaughter your neighbor. But what does it mean if despite all that...I got all this fervor and dedication and hot blood for the slaying...I can’t shake it. There are few people in this life I care about, so maybe that’s it. Maybe all my neighbors have just been dirt under my shoe. Takara, my angel—

Kakuzu, at the time this was written before they traveled to the desert, had never heard him call the woman “Takara” nor “angel.” The remainder of the writing rolls of his tongue less like he’s saying it and more he’s being possessed.

What’s a man to do when someone’s more than just a neighbor?

The man takes a gasp as a sound comes from the person pressed to Kakuzu’s side. He looks to her and instead of a similar expression of shock, she is as relaxed as can be. She exhales, low and soft...and he sighs.

Goddammit...when did she fall asleep?

His deep, gravely voice has put adrift a weary woman, so emotionally exhausted from the events of today, to her dreams at the ocean. He turns back to the book, the words meant just for her from a reaper so desperate for a listening ear, and he wonders how much of their conversations on bounty hunts and religious killings were just talking and ignoring instead of really comprehending. Kakuzu’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t dare read the last page of this book out loud.

I want you to tell me if you love me, too. Maybe then I’ll know what to do about it.

Hidan either knew all along she never read his book, or he’s been waiting all this time, wondering if she’s just sparing him his feelings. Kakuzu, realizing this, throws the back of his skull onto the back of the cushion, hearts so heavy and light all at once he's left to stare at the ceiling. The zombies really, really need to have a talk...especially before whatever these two idiots feel come to a head with all that's been left unsaid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“ACK—!”

She hears her first sound, Hidan grunting despite gritted teeth and bracing for the impact. Kakuzu has no remorse for how harshly he sews the pin cushion man all back together. Damn fool deserves this and so much more.

“What the HELL were you thinking?!”

She tries to answer but she can’t, tongue mute. Fate has decided this is not a conversation for her to partake in.

“Kakuzu, I—FUCK!”

The thread loops into him, though the exclamation may be from the way the named man grips Hidan’s shoulder tight.

“What in your perverted, twisted brain made you THINK-?! No. No. You didn’t think at all!”

“Kakuzu—!”

“Do you know…?!” he leans in close, nice and close so Hidan can see nothing but haunted gemstone eyes, the spirit in them aflame with fury. “Every day...we are one inch away from being THROWN OUT and NEVER seeing her again,” he hisses, deep and low. The reaper’s sneer could be from either his physical suffering or his emotional one. It isn’t enough. Nothing will be enough.

“We started this...with everyone being suspicious,” the rag doll continues. “And we nearly. Lost. It all. When they found that bruise.”

The damn bruise. Maybe that was enough. Maybe they did deserve to never be near her again, if this is what was destined to happen. Maybe then they wouldn't be cowering, recovering where no one can see, in the inn where Hidan tried fish, where Kakuzu began to wonder if he could still find some semblance of a good life. Good fucking riddance to that.

“We were let back in," he seethes, burning and burning with coal of hatred in his chest. "And YOU… You…!”

The grip gets tighter. Hidan hacks again, but no fighting back.

“You may have ruined everything we had.”

Bit by bit, shaky violet eyes unclench, a stutter in the reaper's throat:

“I…” he tries to explain, as best as he can, “I...tried to save her—”

A smack as Kakuzu holds him by the collar and cracks his knuckles into Hidan’s head.

“FUCK!!! Asshole, that HURTS!”

“HOW DO YOU THINK SHE FEELS?!”

And just like that, he’s awake and coherent, at the spur of a woman’s autonomy on the line. “THAT SHE HURTS! THAT’S WHY! That is WHY—!”

His punctured, mutilated chest heaves up and down, a still weary set of lungs catching breath now that it’s been injected with righteous fury. Mask over Kakuzu’s face, all you can see on him is his green, red, glittering anger. Hidan spits, blood in the saliva from somewhere in his impaled guts.

“Kakuzu…!” He needs to understand; Hidan HAS to make him understand. There HAS to be a way—! “She...she’s sick. She’s sick real bad, Kakuzu…”

Kakuzu barely has enough tact to keep the thought of “of course she is” held back from his lips. Through Hidan’s quivering, determination, as ever, overtakes his being, even when he’s bloody and cut and beat up and at the mercy of the world’s most fucked up surgeon, literally holding him together by a single thread. Through the shake eyes have in their sockets...there lies something the old man has never seen before— not in him.

A secret can't be kept any longer.

“I ask her to hurt me to stop her from hurtin’...herself.”

And something in Kakuzu clicks. Little...by little...his iron hold laxes. More...and more...until Hidan is let go. Wide-eyed for a new reason, the masked man now grips onto his own head and falls back against the wall. Hidan’s brow curls as he watches this happen, a long pause of silence until the priest's partner manages to speak again. The rage, perhaps, is gone...or at least redirected.

“...How long?” he asks.

And Hidan knows what he means, though he hesitates to tell. “...Since we got back from the desert," the answer is mumbled. Days and months and full seasons away. And he knows— he knows before Kakuzu beats him to the punch:

“Why?" And then, more urgently, confused. "Why? Why didn’t you...—?”

But he can’t finish the thought, wretched as this all is, barely under wraps like a bedsheet trying to hide a corpse. It’s the reaper’s damn responsibility. His gaze casts down in shame.

“Never felt like the right time.”

Ironic how Kakuzu heard her say the same thing just some hours ago. Finally, finally, the man pulls off his mask lest he suffocate any more, raises his gaze in search for connections and answers. “Hidan…” he mutters. Unsure what to ask next, he simply states thoughts as they come. “There’s no way she asked for this.”

Blood rusting against the stitches on his neck, his chin tilts diagonally away. “...That’s right,” he admits. “I just...told her. I told her she could. I...showed her...she can.”

“And you thought this would make her better.”

...Hidan knows an accusation when he hears one. A magenta stare flickers up to meet the challenge, though head stays meekly down; the man is contradictions, the very thing the woman admired him for. “Better,” he repeats. “...Not perfect. But...”

Kakuzu sighs. “...Better.” Against his better judgment, he understands. He understands much more, now. His skull rests against the planks of wood that make up the inn room’s wall. Heavy lungs exhale. How naive. How stupid of him. The woman he named Takara told him so clearly how her story finished. But Hidan...Hidan…

...He looks at Hidan now, cloak open and barely draped around him, hastily thrown on pants with red seeped into its cloth. On the few missions they shared...since they started to live in that house...Kakuzu had noticed the marks. They always healed so fast. But they were still there. New and fresh and already fading. It had been noted but information not made use of. What did it matter what the guy did in his own spare time? A lot, evidently.

And that is how Hidan got to see how the woman tumbled her way towards the end.

And the rag doll presses his fingertips to his forehead, the sliced headband that eternally reminds his own betrayal and loss, and closes his eyes. Now that the girl is stable and the priest has explained...the exhaustion in him begins to overtake. He needs a second...he needs a moment lest something in him break when his strength is needed most. In this break it provides, Hidan’s spirit too searches for respite; it only makes sense he looks to the thing that’s always calmed him down.

He looks to the side.

There she is.

Laid up on the bed. Kakuzu’s cloak underneath, opened up so you can see the way her chest goes up and down when she breathes. In...out... Like a zombie, he staggers forward mindlessly, without realizing he is until he's already there.

She’s just in her underwear. Used to be something clean and pale, so it wouldn’t show under her dress. It’s a shade of pink now, splotched in different depths of it, based on how long and deep the blood got to soak. He’s standing over her now, and his stare traces all the way down, top of her head...her half open eyes...and lips...neck and breasts...stomach, cunt...thigh. The skin there is angry and reddening. Normal bodies resist the healing process so much more than Hidan’s does; he can already feel the insufferable itch that comes as cells reattach, layers close back in on their own. Hers, though...it isn’t going to be so fast.

Even with Kakuzu’s mending, it’s going to hurt for a while.

Hidan takes a deep breath and feels himself bob side to side, still struggling to focus. His grasp reflexively goes for his neck, but not finding the intended target, instead combs up into his hair, providing a sensation to try and help him concentrate, stay awake. “My necklace…” he murmurs, “My damn necklace…” To pray over her. To ask for forgiveness. Lids crack open...and something is different.

She is looking back at him.

And the whole world stops.

...And he feels like the luckiest man alive.

“Look at her…” he whispers. Because he certainly does. He’s helpless but to lean in, put his hands forward in her space until, as before, they figure out what they want to do. “That’s my angel…!”

Gentle, his palm cups her cheek and Hidan begins to sink closer down. He can feel Kakuzu watching. And it isn’t that he doesn’t care, no...

He’s asking him to see.

“Look at our girl…” And for the first time, this whole time...somehow...someway...Hidan begins to smile. His knees get onto the bed and he looms over her, closing in..and in...and in...until his forehead is pressed so reverently onto hers.

“Isn’t she something…?” he asks, a tremble in his voice. All this time, he's never forgotten the first day he met, how he felt his lord Jashin place a hand on his shoulder and behold...behold the one who will change your whole life. His eyes screw back shut, and she can feel his sharp inhale, both in pain and in marvel. “Isn’t she beautiful…?!”

And she wonders if she’s dreaming, as tears fall on top of her face. Is he...? Is he really...?

“She did such a damn good job…!” a pious soul struggles, gritting his teeth, sneering his lips with effort and overwhelming, holy emotion. And Kakuzu can only watch, no idea what to make of this, no idea what— if anything— he can do. The reaper's lone confidant is begged for once again:

“Kakuzu…”

And the man's breath hitches, a witness in the corner. The Jashinist is all but a puddle, barely held up by his own scratched arms.

“It’s our girl, Kakuzu…!”

The named man remains where he stands, entirely dumbfounded. The most selfish person in the whole world is praying over her, to her, and asks him to do the same. Stitched lips part but can’t find words to speak. He watches her...as she watches him. Even half closed, the big starry eyes are so soft, so knowing. She looks then at Hidan, and Kakuzu can already tell there’s no anger in that heart at all.

She manages...her first words.

“I’m...s-...s-..." Though inevitable, they let her finish. "Sorry.”

And quivering, trembling with adoration, Hidan tells her through sobs, “...Shut up.”

The stars begin to well at the bottom of her eyes, and the ocean, drip by drip, escapes in the saltwater that falls down her face and stains onto the pillow.

He’s only being like this because he feels bad...right? Right? She remembers what he said. “I’m not...beautiful…” she corrects, barely audible at all. “You...don’t..have to…”

And with only Kakuzu and Jashin as his witness, Hidan can't take this anymore shuts her up himself. Overtop of her, in this dingy little inn, he does what he should have done from the very start. His palms hold her face...and with all the gentleness in the world…

He kisses her.

He kisses her.

He kisses her.

In…

…

Out...

The sigh of breath as he pulls back, just enough to look her in the eyes, push stray locks off of her forehead. “I don’t care anymore,” he says, only now that they’ve reached the brink, the edge of universes and fate and faith and chance. “I don’t care about that fucking book. I love you. I love you! Jashin, damn me, I—!”

He.

Kisses.

Her.

And this time as he pulls back, she finally knows how to speak. It takes a moment of furrowing her brow and thinking past both bliss and throbbing pain. “...Book…?” she repeats, dizzy with the taste of him on her lips, blood and all. His eyes narrow but his grin widens, both adoringly and spitefully.

“So you didn’t read it. That’s it.”

A gasp. Her mouth opens.

Despite himself, Kakuzu can only watch. These idiots will figure it out, after all, despite everything and themselves in their way.

“I...I don’t…” Finally, finally. “I don’t...know...how to read.”

…

A stutter.

A twitch.

And a laugh.

Hidan laughs, slamming his fist into the pillow, bitter and relieved all at once. Before she can apologize again, he sits up, winding in an inhale of air and rolling his shoulders, finally feeling like a free man.

“Babydoll…! After all this time...!”

And she can feel every inch of him shake with the next rough, roar of a laugh, as Hidan kneels over a woman who hardly believes this is happening at all.

“Angel, baby…” The word takes on a new meaning now, next to these others. She thought it was just a nickname, an extension of sorts of their relationship...and well...it was. But it was a lot more than that, too.

But it’s hard to outright call someone your love, your light, your everything when you aren’t sure what they feel back. Finally, his eyes roll back down, and he looks more like his usual, coy self...maybe even then some.

“...You could have saved us a lot of trouble.”

Us.

...Wait.

Hidan flinches, visibly shifts. His smile drops. “Wait,” he realizes. And all of a sudden, he feels so wrong. Shit...shit...! She didn't even SAY! “I— do you—?”

A woman's too stunned, stuck within dreams of the beach and heavenly touches come to life, to fill in the blanks for him. He has to ask. He has to be the one to stop assuming, and to save them some trouble. And so he swallows his pride and he begs, one word at a time:

“Do...you...love me...too?”

In the way that he loves her. Because he never figured out what she meant when she said "love" before.

And weight of his shadow on top of her, heat of his body, the sweat on his stomach...the kindness of his face…

Silly. Silly things, they are.

“Yes,” she tells him. And she swallows the ‘but’. “Yes,” she promises him, no backing down. “Yes,” she exclaims, in spite of everything in her telling a woman that she doesn’t deserve it.

And, savoring every inch of it, Hidan comes down and kisses her yet again. Her eyes close, and it still doesn't seem real.

She does not see as Hidan turns his head to look at Kakuzu...not only acknowledge him but beckon him here. The stitched man’s jaw drops; he had thought his fun, the little bit of delight, was all over. Even if Takara was willing to share, Hidan wouldn’t.

Oh how wrong he was.

“Look at our girl,” Hidan tells him again, a cock of his head used to gesture, soon as Kakuzu stands at the foot of the bed. “Isn’t she somethin’?”

And she is. Kakuzu feels himself losing his breath, the twitch in his hands and the blood rushing in his veins. He sees what is happening—

“Hidan,” he mutters. “Be careful.” No, indeed, no rage at all, not even a bit. “She’s still hurt. She’s still scared.” The reaper snorts, giving a lopsided smirk.

“But you fixed us up so nice…!” the silver-haired demon coos, and as he combs into her locks again, the woman’s eyes open. He smiles at her, so very devilishly, longingly. There's no stopping him and Kakuzu can tell. Another secret has to be told:

“She’s never kissed before.”

...

...

Hidan rolls his shoulders and looks back; the lust in his eyes is not reserved just for one, and Kakuzu wears a target on his forehead. Fuck. “...And how do you know that, you old bastard?”

That shuts Kakuzu up right quick.

“You make it to her before me?" the younger man retorts, relentless. "Kakuzu...I’m hurt!” And before she can mumble a sincere apology, Hidan presses a thumb onto the lips of this conversation's subject. “Well...baby,” he turns to ask her now...and all of a sudden she's noticing him stripping off a cloak of black and red clouds. “You ever fucked?”

And of course she hasn’t.

He knows she hasn’t.

Couldn’t have if he was the first person she saw nude. And he’s looking right. At. Her.

"Then I get to be the first at something else."

All of a sudden she remembers how naked she is. That and the glimmer in her eyes makes Hidan so very, very excited.

“I’ll be the first to make you cum, baby.”

A gasp and her heart pounds so heard it hurts. Hidan continues, pinning her down with hooded purple irises as he talks it out to Kakuzu, lest he ruin the moment, make her even more scared.

“I promise...I promise I’ll be gentle... We'll talk it out and nothin' happens she doesn't want..." The tongue that sips blood comes out, swirling slowly over his lips. "And ain’t gonna touch that cute little garter you put on her pretty leg...no matter how much I wanna.”

She looks down. The stitches of her wound do look like a garter. Pulsating pain or not...it…— Oh shit. It took all this for her to realize what is about to happen.

...Just as Hidan places one knee...over the other side of her pelvis...and begins to straddle. That's what it takes.

“Lost your tongue, eh angel…?” he leans in close. His nose rests into her neck. “Then do what you do best…” he instructs her. “Sing to me instead. The first one. The one you said in the woods about prayin’. I wanna make you feel that way...”

So even since back then, not even a full day. That’s all it took for lonely Hidan to change his mind about whether or not she’s pretty. She swallows, and worries try to resurface and explain.

“I...I’ve never…”

“She’s scared.” Kakuzu repeats himself in interruption, and suddenly he’s so much closer, too. Hidan opens one eye and glances up to his partner, daring.

“Then help me show her,” he says. “Help me show her she doesn’t need to be.”

And then the rag doll and his duckling lock eyes. Her lips part with nothing to say but disbelief, sighs and grunts and gasps. She looks so innocent...is so innocent...but as Kakuzu sees the bob in her throat to swallow again...as she sighs...as she begs with eyes alone…

...He just needs to be sure and actually ask. No more assuming. Not this time, especially not when they're her first.

“Do you want me? Us…?”

The line between reality and fantasy blurring is the only thing that holds her back. She looks at them, two men as different as night and day… She went from having the worst day of her life to...to...this…! She’s dreaming. She has to be dreaming.

...And if that’s the case...

Then...

Then there will be no regrets.

Then she can say...yes.

The permission is mouthed and that’s all it takes. The world's most hellish want a bite of heaven. Hidan dips in first.

The man eases into it, trying to keep advice in mind, trying to go slow, starting at her forehead...then her mouth...over the length of her neck, down to her breast. She stutters...and that's when the woman catches as Kakuzu gets onto the bed, easily residing the little free space left. That gorgeous brown hair of his is free, dreadfully long and brushes the top of his muscular bust. A glance of admiration— or perhaps, rather, amusement— and a big hand tenderly takes one much smaller. The man at first just holds it, noting how soft, how selfish he is to know it at all, then raises it next to her head, pinning it by the wrist as he begins to bend down.

“You can say stop at any time,” he reminds, behind her ear in the low voice that sends tingles down her spine. But why on earth would she do that, she thinks, when she's longed for so long? “You’re in control here.”

But is she? How can she be when she is being touched, caressed, held by two men she’s wanted so desperately all this time? She’s going to lose control entirely...but she can appreciate what he means by that.

“Just...don’t...touch my leg…” She’s already whimpering; they’re going to have to draw this out, lest it end so soon. Kakuzu nods, his silky hair bobbing with the motion. He picks her hand back up and traces it onto his stitches...over his chest...down his stomach.

“Do you like this?” half sincere, half teasing. “Don’t flatter me for its own sake.” Of course she nods. And on her own, to answer that question, her hand moves further down.

For someone who hasn’t handled a man’s cock before, she’s damn good at it.

The stiffness already forming firms even more, Kakuzu so hard underneath his attire, coddled in her touch. How many times has he touched himself, imagining something like this? In the bath, getting undressed...one hand balancing himself against the wall while the other pulls?

Maybe as much as Hidan has. Maybe as much as she has.

As Kakuzu moans, so does Hidan. “Angel…” he praises, a palm over her other tit while his mouth takes a break from the first. Not even sex can keep this bastard from talking, though she doesn't mind, not at all. His words just make it all the more incredible. “Look at us, angel. Two of the biggest and baddest and you’re gonna make us cum in our pants like it’s nothing… What a good girl, eh…?”

And he raises up, if only to watch the cute expression she makes as he squeezes, sees the give of flesh between his fingers. The bra just gets in the way.

“Let’s get that nonsense off…”

A flick from his pocket and she’s set free. Kakuzu hums in satisfaction. “Damn kunai...good for something after all…” All the same, he watches the woman for a reaction, just in case it’s too much, being reminded of the weapon. A bit of a glint in her eye, a vocalization of startle—

Hidan catches on first. It’s thrown to the side, far away from where the blade can touch her again. Doesn't need it anymore. “Rest I’m gonna do myself," he says. "Gonna make the old man watch. Can you do that, girlie? Come on...show us how wet we make ya... I'm sure you are...!”

The strap of her underwear is pulled down, and it confirms how right he is. A big, big grin stretches in satisfaction. With that, there's only one question left:

“How do you want it, angel?”

…

It takes a moment for her to realize what that means.

“Face up? Face down? Me? Him? Both of us?” So quick he goes back on his word, his desire to tease the partner he wants so much to beat. Just the sight of the mounds of Venus and all a man wants is to get her off. Choices given, they both give her time to collect, to coherently choose. With some reluctance, Kakuzu takes her hand off his crotch, and Hidan lifts himself up by the palms to get a good read on her face. Sweet little thing...already so hot and bothered. She really hasn’t fucked before. If there was any doubt before, certainly isn’t now…

The woman looks at them both, two men radiant with adoration and lust after holding it in for so long, no outlet for it until everything fell into place. A perfect storm. Surely they want to get inside her...and she nearly asks for this—

...But.

But.

She is still afraid. Even if a little. Even if only because she does not yet know her own body quite so well as they may. And so, despite how much she wants to give, it has to be okay if she takes, instead. Surely they won't mind.

“T-t-touch me,” she pleads under her lost breath, words she’s held back for so long. “P-p-please…!”

And she’ll be touched with hands and mouths as hungry as they are vicious.

Darker lips hold onto hers, matching palms taking their turn massaging nipples and feeling her moan into his mouth, letting her feel the moan from it, too. Her legs are spread open as a man tastes the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of tracing his tongue around. In between kisses, she sings as requested, even if soft, even if broken up, even if hardly said at all. Even if it feels a little bit silly. It's all that they asked for, so it's what she's got to give. She begs of them:

Take me to church

Waves of her are ridden, unintentional bucking of hips. Her breath quickens...and raises...and loudens... Until she’s begging, until the sound of her crying and screaming in pain is far, far away. Now, it is ecstasy.

Kakuzu holds her hand as she grips tight, and he pulls away just enough to see the look on her face for what comes next.

A moan.

A clench.

...And with her lovely, lovely voice...a release.

Hidan looks up at her, magenta eyes hooded and something thicker than saliva dripping from his lips. A drop of blood is staining into the rest of the liquid. Just as the story started, the girl gets her finish with a reminder of Jashin, of the blessings he bestows. He laps it up, long and slow to savor the taste. To show her how good it is to be in his position.

But a good girl still needs a break before it’s the old man’s turn.

She gets to soak in the hot spring and watch as Hidan decides to finish, next, what she had started, holding his partner's dick like that, getting him nice and hard with nowhere to go. She holds around Kakuzu as he pulsates and moans, and he stretches one arm and pulls her in to brace himself. She whispers to him that it's okay, she likes him holding her tight. The rag doll, with that permission leans his full weight, cheek pressed against her head as he uses his other hand to grip Hidan by the hair as he so wonderfully sucks him dry. Kakuzu worships no god, but he can see the appeal in having a goddess. A goddess and her dutiful priest with a big mouth to shut up.

He can at least understand now...what makes someone worship something outside of themselves.

An exhale and the woman is there to feel his entire body relax. Silver locks drip as they emerge from the surface, a lingering kiss on Kakuzu's jaw and Hidan inhales deep, catching his breath, and wraps around him and his angel, legs and arms and all. His nose finds home in the other side of her, so she is so warmly, snugly flanked by two S-rank missing-nins who will never let her go.

Three of the undead, three who by fate...or luck...or whatever the hell makes life work...ending up like this, together. Fucked up, fucking, and fucked. Sensations unending at least until it’s time to go, lest the others wonder where they ran off to.

But not just yet.

If anyone asks, though? They have two zombies to get through. That assurance alone...helps their treasure feel safe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s been a long time since Kakuzu first thought of the world in blues and yellows. Together, they make the color of money— at least that of most nations. Fortune. And, of course, the word “fortune” leads to the word “treasure.” He doesn’t believe in fate— not really— but it amuses his otherwise cold, hardened soul to see the connection to the woman he named, however unintentional. So why is he thinking of her? Well, it’s hard not to— not when the piano is drifting back and forth in a jazzy flit, somehow both purposeful and ditsy.

...That’s a good description for her, he thinks. He smiles ever so slightly, feeling the stitches upon his cheeks bend with the twitch of his lips.

An open book in his hand, a man has let his hair down and leans over the edge of the couch of the library. He can barely hear her as she plays in the music room, the soundtrack to his increasingly ironic and bizarre life as a man made for murder begins to enjoy letting his skills waste away. There’s a mental note that if anyone besides him dares to joke he’s in retirement, he’d kill them. He's already far too comfortable, mask pulled down and cloak unbuttoned, red clouds draping over him more like a housecoat or a robe.

Lookin' up at a yellow girl

...Yes, he agrees as the woman croons. Yellow is a good color for a soul like hers…especially in these days where the sun seems farther away. Bright...happy...and silly. Same color as the childish nickname she chose for herself.

…

The old man huffs at his own musings. It’s just useless nonsense, mulling over ideas such as souls having color and him having a predestined fate. But one silly thought easily brings a cascade of others. Especially when the words on the page, no matter historical relevance, sort of go along. Kakuzu feels the leathery texture of his toughened skin as he idly bites his thumb, now distracted once again by the bullshit he's reading. Not the actual words, no, but rather what they describe:

Marriage and courting rituals...pheh. A man like him would never have use for those. Not anymore. Kakuzu would ever...— wait.

She won't cut me free

Kakuzu silently loses his breath. For yet another time, this girl is capable of making him feel things he never imagined he’d harbor again. What is it this go around?

Of her vanilla curls

And the rest of this song she started begins to fade as a realization echos— louder...and louder...and louder, and louder, and LOUDER– until a quiet truth becomes a screeching announcement. This emotion he feels is, undoubtedly…

Embarrassment.

“GODDAMMIT!!!”

Someone his age shouldn’t be so flustered, but yet again...someone his age should know better. His fist slams against the coffee table, envigored with the rage he feels against himself for being such a fucking idiot, imbecile, pig. A face split in black and white stares from the doorway, and he begins to have second thoughts.

“I’ll...talk to you later,” White Zetsu mutters before the amalgamate sinks into the floor, lest he incur the wrath of a fellow too old-school for his good, someone who has realized he’s seduced a poor, naive woman without so much as half-assing an attempt at proper courting. He can’t believe it. Kakuzu cannot believe it.

And sweet yellow soul she is, the performer has nary said a word against such misdeeds.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“We need to talk,” Kakuzu growls.

Hidan is, perhaps, exemplary of everything Kakuzu thinks of him right now— ignorant and perpetually covered in viscera. Drops of red drip onto the snow, almost like trickles of a melting icicle, except instead of an icicle it is Hidan that is hanging from the tree. Upside down by the knees, to be precise, and with that baton of his struck through his middle. His partner is willing to overlook that, so long as Hidan will listen.

“Eh?!” The younger immortal does his best to glance behind himself, as the way he dangles puts Kakuzu facing his back. “I came all the way out here to be ALONE and you really think it’s the best time to talk to me, huh…?” But it’s never a good time for Kakuzu to interrupt a ritual, really, shared love or no. In fact, the mention of it is about to make the bounty hunter’s blood boil just a little bit more:

“You still soft for me, old man?” the younger guy teases.

Kakuzu’s eyes pop just a little bit wider. “Hidan, take me seriously.”

“I am, I am!” With a grunt, the priest gives a few final words to his lord before the piercing stick is yanked out of his chest same way you’d take off a bandaid— quickly, lest you hesitate and make it hurt worse. He spits reflexively as the red stuff falls off of his chest and into his mouth, but he quickly swears under his breath an apology and makes sure to taste it, so as to not let good holy blood go to waste. “Geez…” Hidan mumbles afterward, then easily flipping onto his feet so as to stand to attention, however lackadaisical. “You make this sound like a big deal!”

“It is.”

“Then?” Hidan responds, voice getting louder with impatience. “What is it?!” He’s starting to get antsy now, widening his stance and looking side to side. “What, is she gone again?! Is she—?!”

“NO!” Kakuzu interrupts, feeling the heat of his face tenfold with the mask encapsulating it close to his skin; he doesn't remember pulling it back up. Finally having the silver haired demon’s attention fixed on him isn’t helping. “We…” the taki-nin attempts. Take one fails.

…

“We never.”

…

Take two fails.

“Hmmm?” The shirtless man groans, raising a brow. “Come on, man, it’s COLD out here!”

…

He doesn't even try for take three.

“Kakuzu, you’re freaking me OUT...!” he urges.

But Kakuzu is embarrassed now. And that isn’t something he’s had to train for, not since the shame was beaten out of him and he ran away from it all decades and decades ago. That’s kind of the whole problem, isn’t it? Getting caught up in these...emotions he’s not used to...before thinking what to do and say. Yes. That’s exactly how this situation came to be:

“We...never courted her.” It’s said now less like the urgent realization he initially had and more like it’s an admission of guilt. Hidan, however, just gets more confused.

“...Hell you on about?”

“Don’t be thick-headed,” Kakuzu scolds quickly, gaze firm and narrowing. “Don't you know how it looks?”

…Take one of explaining this to Hidan fails.

“How it must feel?”

…Take two.

“Hidan.”

“What!”

“Hidan, we— we DID that to her without so much as—” It’s too much, and he spins around, hiding as well as he can from judging eyes. “Dammit...”

“Kakuzu…?!”

“...She deserves better,” the masked man admits quietly. “That’s all.”

This leaves the reaper in quite the predicament. A second ago, everything was right as rain— well, besides the shit-ass cold battling against restless urges. What is it called...cabin fever? Yeah, that. But that’s a HIM problem. The performer… Hasn’t she been doing just fine…? “I didn’t—” the younger man stammers. “Realize we did anything wrong.” A glance to the side. “Besides. You know.” The stabbing thing.

“I know. But...we did.”

“But she never said anything was wrong,” the reaper objects. “She likes us! ...Right?”

“That doesn’t mean it is right.”

“Who cares!”

“I CARE! In this wretched world, we’re all she has. Can’t you see?!”

“Well, you never courted me!”

Just as Hidan comes around to Kakuzu’s shoulder, the old man twists away again, unwilling to make eye contact while talking about such indecent things. It’s clear Hidan is saying this to diffuse him a bit, and so he’s trying to keep his fists to himself, unlike the innocent table he smashed. “Shut UP.”

The Jashinist gestures with palms up, both beseeching and to convey a lack of anger— a safety net for his partner to continue, to talk about what the fuck they even are now. "Just sayin’!”

...But that doesn’t work. Kakuzu has nothing more to say. Not until he clears his hearts, a job five-fold more than the average lovestruck fool.

What comes, instead, is a strange, somber silence. Hidan up until now thought he had done everything a good man could to honor a good woman— that is, to say, not kill her and make her orgasm until her brain explodes. He never got a courting either, after all, and Kakuzu was more than happy to get it on with them both. Modern days didn’t need stupid old rituals like that; he thought his partner understood! With the reveal that Kakuzu is an old fart in more ways than just his age, the literal bleeding-heart yu-nin frowns and curls his brow. Hidan doesn’t quite have the vocabulary to explain his discomfort yet; in that department, Kakuzu is ahead. Still barely able to speak on it, but ahead nonetheless and therefore leading the way.

And the way to go is starting to look a little bit like ruin.

Kakuzu finally, barely looks over his shoulder. The sliver visible of his bi-colored eye carries a bizarre kind of tender shame. “Do whatever you want,” he tells Hidan, fed up. And then he makes himself a promise: “I’ll figure it out.”

And just like that, one perturbed man leaves another in his wake, a religious immortal standing in his blood-stained snow and wondering what it’s all for. Ah Jashin...why’d you do this to him?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It is awfully convenient that other people are occupying the traveler while her first immortal loves take some time to recollect— that she has distractions as they’re all trapped together in this hell house frozen in time.

Kakuzu, meanwhile, is in a pickle. It’s winter. Full-blown ice and snow. What does the girl like? Flowers! What’s dead in the winter? Flowers! He’s pacing back and forth in this tiny room, hand holding his chin, a small fish in a tank staring as dumbly as the bounty hunter feels. A sudden twitch of the animal is all it takes for Kakuzu to reflexively swing around and glare at it—

...Bubble, bubble. Round, black eyes and a puff of its scaled “lips” are all he gets. He exhales...and begins to close his eyes.

…

”Hm?”

Just as he’s nearly shut his lids, the narrowed vision makes him notice the reflection upon the glass tank— by other glass, to be more precise. A turn of his covered head and Kakuzu sees the culprit. A dainty vase with forgotten flowers. They don’t look like the roses from her garden— it’s hard to tell since they’re so old and dry, but the shapes make it clear enough. His mouth purses behind his mask. This will have to do. It is better than nothing.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take one.

“Takara.”

She looks up at him, blinking so softly, as she always does. Something curdles in all five of his hearts at the prospect, but he does what a man needs to do anyways:

A hand weathered with scars of war rises up, a delicate dried flower held by the stem given as an offering. It is beheld a moment before she knows what to say.

“Hydrangeas!” she recognizes, sitting straight up and eyes widening so as to twinkle with more stars. Kakuzu is more than ready to let it slip from his fingers into hers, happy to be able to clench his fist with full frustrated strength once more at his side. She coos so thoughtfully, a fingertip brushing the edges of petals much like one may comb the hair of a doll.

“I had forgotten about these…” she recalls. The smile on her face is beautiful, and he finally feels some semblance of relief— “I gave them to Kisame, I think. There was a hydrangea festival...”

Oh.

“K...Kakuzu?” But he has turned around and walked away, off to find another solution to this problem he’s created, one that does not remind her of another man. Unknowing of his struggle, the woman gets a sinking feeling in her chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take two.

“We’re going for a walk.”

It’s about an hour or so later that the old loverboy comes up with his second idea worth trying. His subject of experimentation looks back and forth between him and the outside, the crusted frost on the window and the world beyond. “Oh,” she stalls, politely as she can. “Um.”

There’s such intensity in his gaze that he can’t hide. No matter what she feels, the performer decides reluctantly, it is something important to him. That’s enough reason to abide, enough to swallow her reflexive alarm and follow where he lead. She could do it before for Sasori, and she can do it again.

“...Okay,” the traveler finally concedes, a worried look on her face. “Let me...get my cape.”

Out one person goes and in comes another, an already tall person with likewise tall hair having to duck to enter through the doorway. He grunts with a smirk, having caught the tail end of their conversation. “Ah. Where are you two going in such a hurry…?”

“Out,” is the simple answer the shark gets. Kakuzu isn’t prepared for the sort of expression Kisame makes to that.

“Is it for...a reason?”

Kakuzu narrows his eyes, already having disdain for this shark today. “No.”

Kisame blinks, smile lost and triangle teeth exposed instead with a skeptical frown. He looks outside. Snowflakes are falling, big and puffy and soft— idyllic, really. It’s perfect for a day of staying in. That’s not the plan, however.

“Don’t tell her I told you…” Kisame warns, still concentrated on the white ice, feeling in his gut how it could feel. “...But she told me the winter makes her...uncomfortable.” No, he won’t use her precise, damning words, just enough so his coworker gets the idea. “She won’t enjoy it. Just be prepared.”

And it’s just about then that the woman of the hour steps in again, winter cape over her shoulders and a brave grin on her face that doesn’t cover up the worry in her eyes. A brief stare is all it takes for Kakuzu to break.

“Never mind.”

And once again, he walks away.

Mouth agape, the performer doesn’t know what to say or think until he’s already out of sight. She looks back and forth between the space where Kakuzu was and where Kisame is now, sputtering noises that don’t quite make words but still convey her great dismay. The sort of blighted heartbreak upon her face isn’t something Kisame was prepared to see, and likewise he doesn’t know what the hell that was all about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Did I do something to make Kakuzu mad?” she whispers, but the only one who would be listening in is the one she’s intending to hear her now. That’s the whole point, really; if someone would know, no matter how wary she is of him, it’d be this guy. Zetsu watches as she rubs a tear from her eye, perhaps predictably having mixed feelings on the matter. On one hand, it is oh so fun to see such fantastic failure. One after the other after the other, attempts for something ridiculous that do not need to happen falling to the wayside with misunderstandings. But on the other hand…

She sniffles as the teardrops keep coming, despite her best efforts. The visible half of his face frowns.

...It never feels as good as he thinks it will to see his little ghost upset.

“He is attempting to court you, I believe,” the sweeter voice ultimately explains. The deeper one adds in: “Whatever that means to him.” And sweet again: “I presume he’s failing at it marvelously.”

The direction of her gaze staggers up, almost doing a double-take like a cartoon, as she raises her head to look at the amalgamate in surprise. “He’s...what?!”

“Courting you,” he repeats. “Those are the words he used.” Green hair shifts ever so slightly as Zetsu’s head tilts so the paler side is closer to his shoulder. “Do you feel courted?”

She squints. She squints so hard you can barely tell she has eyes. Zetsu makes note that this is not how you court people, then. With the answer obvious and the nuances of her confusion lost, the lighter voice continues. “So if he’s failing...what then? I’m curious now… Are you going to accept his failure?”

…

Her expression softens. She knows what to do. Even if she doesn’t get why, it’s going to be done. Zetsu will witness how to properly court someone after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take three.

The only proper time to do this is the middle of the night, so that’s step one. A knock on his door— that’s step two— and it’s been just long enough since she did this last that he doesn’t expect it to be a strange woman in front of him, even if it has been every time before. Despite their intimate history, he feels naked like this, even if it’s only his face and chest that are bare, and Kakuzu’s gemstone eyes widen. A girl, dressed like the royalty she is before the likes of him— full length dress, lacy cape— reaches forward with a gloved hand, one so petite next to someone like him. She learned from his reaction before; the flower of choice this time is one of her long-dead roses, nothing obviously attached in sentiment to someone else. Stupefied, the man takes it.

“Get dressed!” she whispers, leaning in and excitement like electricity on her tongue. “And meet me at the front porch!”

And it’s her turn now to leave before someone else gives the final word on the matter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kakuzu arrives as commanded, buttoning up his cloak as he cracks open the front door and feels the cold air seep in. She’s standing at the base of the stairs— hard to tell, the snow is so tall that it matches the height of the last step. At sight of him, she hops with joy, clutching one hand to her chest while another reaches out to him. There are snowflakes in her hair, dappling it like crystal-ended hairpins. Baffled, Kakuzu mutters the secret he knows only once he’s close enough to take it.

“Don’t you hate being out when it's winter?” he asks. But she just takes his hand and smiles.

“Not tonight. Not when it’s with you.”

And as they did back in the summer, a man and a woman run off together in the middle of the night. His pulse races stronger than any other person’s could, and the way she looks over her shoulder and back to him makes him feel…

…

It makes him feel...young.

Is that bad?

As before, as he predicted, they forge ahead until they reach their seat on the cliff again, overlooking the lake transformed by the passing seasons. The frogs and toads hibernate under the frosted mud, and the top of the water is iced over like a mirror. The moon and sparse clouds drift both above in the sky and below under their feet. The world is quiet here. No amphibians singing, no rustling of leaves. It is dead silence besides the crunching of snow as they crouch down and any noise these two human beings make themselves. Despite how the winter scares her, at least it can give her that politeness.

Finally alone in the way she wants them to be, she turns her head to him as she catches her foggy breath and smiles proudly.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks.

“I heard...you wanted to court me.” And bafflingly, she adds: “So I decided to court you!”

Kakuzu grunts loudly, physically recoiling back to get a better look at her face. Did he hear her right?! No, he did. “That’s— that’s not how it works,” he stammers, fiery cheeks fighting the cold air as he gets red beneath his face covering.

“Why not?”

“Simple: you’re the woman, and I’m the man. It is MY responsibility. It is MY job to...to…”

...She lets him try to think it out.

“...To make up...for everything.”

...

A statement like that is hard to ignore.“...What do you mean?”

“I love you,” he admits, as he does once in a blue moon. “That’s why...I…”

She tilts his head, starting to catch on. “You feel bad?” the traveler prods, gently as she can. “Like...you have to trade actions for the ones we already did?”

The questioning murmur he makes lets her know she needs to explain.

“You know...you don’t have to earn anything. You already did. You told me you loved me. Before, I mean. And...I consented to being sexual with you.” His expression changes as she finally says the unspoken— the sex. She shrugs. “That’s enough. ...Honestly never thought I'd even get that far,” she admits under her breath.

“It isn’t.” Even if he isn’t sure of everything, that’s one thing Kakuzu knows. She’s not a paid worker, not a passing fling; he wouldn’t give a shit, then. She...is different. Intentional. Long term, even. That makes the requirements so much more. He has no idea what her culture is like and what she needs and what HE needs, and…—

His head is spinning. But he still knows:

“You’re worth...more.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

And in spite of how he feels about it, that means more to her than anything he else he could give. A hand is put over his, and she nudges just a bit closer to the man by her side. “...Will you tell me how?”

“You’re worth all the nonsense. All the back and forth, the dumb damn game men and women play to get to...where we’ve gone. You’re not a one night stand. I don’t...want you to feel like one.”

The palm on his begins to squeeze.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He doesn’t answer. Under the moonlight, he could have done anything. He could have been a jerk, a thief, a murderer. He’s all of those things. Do you know how when artists want to convince you something is pure white, they tinge it blue? Kakuzu has a blue soul to oppose her yellow, to match the particles that line the leaf-stripped branches and dust the rocks on the side of a forgotten winter pond.

And then her other hand pulls his mask down.

“I want to make you feel that way, too,” she whispers. The naughtiness finally gets him to crack a smile, through his guilty, angry veneer and the bitter cold that seeps through his stitches and lays onto his sinful tongue.

“Silly.”

“And you love it.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh yeah?”

And now the glove of a lady does something unmistakable: like a prince, she picks up his hand, raises the back of it to her lips, and then presses— barely, she presses— a kiss onto his ring. Despite it all— despite everything from before— this is somehow the most tender, romantic, and enticing thing that has ever happened to Kakuzu in his whole long life. He always assumed he wasn’t the lovey-dovey type, the kind that gets lightheaded and numb and irrational. Maybe he just isn’t as experienced as he thought he was. Goddammit.

“And I’ll do this every night until I’ve earned a kiss on your lips,” she promises, eyes level with his knuckles peering all the way up to his.

Okay, that’s quite enough. “Takara.”

“Yes, sir?” she teases in the way only she is allowed to.

With every ounce of his body, he exhales. It breathes her stupid goddamn nickname that makes her happy and makes him want to hide his face. It means he will concede:

“Duckling.”

There’s a reason he’s so bad at courting. It’s because he doesn’t like it. Never imagined himself doing it even as a young boy, and if he did it ended with a shiver and a bad taste in his mouth. So thankfully, that means the woman won’t have to play this game to kiss him on the lips. She’s going to get it right now.

...And if it wasn’t for the freezing snow pillowing them and all these layers of clothes to fumble through, Kakuzu would consider her getting a whole lot more. Too soon, though. Maybe later. Maybe later…

For now, the taste of her is enough as cloth-covered fingers trace over his stitches and the chilled wind combs starlight and frozen diamonds through his silky, dark brown hair that she's reached around and untied. They both think— individually, mind you, though a pact all the same— that they don’t deserve one another.

[goldfades]

🍁with mark estapa?

congrats on 100!!🎉

MARKERRRR AHHH I LOVE HIM

this was also a very hard decision because he's just taylor swift coded tbh (i say that ab every man i find hot) but i decided on mine because LIKE ??????? HE'S SO SPEAK NOW.

HE IS THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER BEEN OURS.

you felt sick to your stomach, anxiety running through your veins as tears brimmed your eyes.

in the dimly lit living room, tension hung in the air like a heavy cloud. you sat on one end of the couch, while mark occupied the other. mark sat across from you, his face in his hands as he sighed loudly. this was the worst fight in your relationship this far.

you both had been arguing back and forth for the entirety of the day. the fight was about one of mark's close girl friends, who he had been close to since the 7th grade. ever since you guys had started dating, she had been a constant strain in your relationship but this time, she had crossed one too many boundaries.

she been constantly texting and calling mark, even late into the night, about her relationship with one his other friends. it felt like she was purposely trying to get closer to mark and cause a strain upon your relationship.

the final straw was when she confided in mark about a major issue in her own relationship that you considered highly personal. you had tried to bring up her weird behavior, but mark had always brushed it off, saying she was just going through a tough time and needed someone to talk to.

this behavior had been a source of ongoing tension, but today's argument had escalated to the point where you were questioning mark's loyalty and commitment, which you never had before.

mark sighed frustratedly loudly after the long silence. "you just don't get it, do you?"

"no, i get it mark! you're the one who doesn't get it-"

mark got his head out of his hands to face you. "she's just a friend, you're the one who doesn't seem to get that!" he raised his voice slightly which made your furrow your eyebrows.

"i know that, mark!" you yelled, matching his anger as you finally sat up from the couch. "i'm not saying you can't be friends with her, she just is getting way too personal and not to mention, touchy-"

"touchy? y/n, she's like a sister to me!"

"god, i'm so tired of you saying that!" you yelled, your face getting flustered out of anger. he rolled his eyes out of annoyance. "i get it, she's like a sister but i'm your girlfriend, and if you can't understand that then, i guess we are done."

you felt the tears slowly start to fall as you grab your bag from the couch. you started walking out of the living room, ignoring mark's calling of your name.

before you could walk out onto the driveway, you felt mark grab your arm and pull you back. "let go of me, go choose her, i'm done being the second choice!" you cried out.

you felt pathetic for crying even though you knew you were in the right. you also felt pathetic for wasting all those months with someone who seemingly didn't care enough to simply maintain some boundaries.

"no, y/n! look, i'm sorry! okay, i'm sorry." mark had finally broken the laid back facade he had been doing. you sniffled as you looked back at the brunette teary-eyed.

"you're sorry? that's it? that's all you're gonna say, mark?" you shouted in frustration, pulling your arm out his grasp. "you're like every other guy i've ever been with-"

"don't say that, please, y/n." mark sighed. he was distressed, he wanted to pick you, he really did. "if i talk to her, it would cause so many more problems with our families back home. she'd cause a big old scene, you know that."

"do i know that, mark? god, i am really that much of an inconvenience?" your tears had began again and this time, you swore you wouldn't be able to stop them. "i'm done."

before you could walk back to your car, he continued. "no, i will. i will for you, i've been wanting to do something for a while but now i.. i need to. i can't lose you, y/n." his voice slightly broke at the last part.

that made you stop in your tracks, "i don't want you to just do it for me."

"i'm not! i just, i can't lose you, if that means causing a whole thing back home, then so be it."

that was all you really needed to hear. you turned around slowly, tears still falling as he reached for your hand. you gladly took his and sighed as he pulled you into a hug.

"i'm sorry, i really am." he sighed as he pulled you closer into his arms, kissing the top of your head. "i won't ever leave you alone."

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

[shannonsketches]

Actually I need to talk about this real quick re chatting with Tiny about Vegeta: In the manga he's just generally reserved and observant, and his more Loud Villainous Behavior is an extreme reaction to feeling threatened by something Specific, but Toei writes him like he's threatened by everything.

Like, his behavior in the android saga reflects how he was panicking on Earth when Goku wouldn't just die, which makes sense! Dude was a highly successful imperial lord now getting slow-roasted in peaceful earth customs for a year after being revived by mistake, then he's told he's the first one to die in an attack three years from now, then he's told he's gonna be a father in half that time, and then finds out that future kid is his future kid and he came back in time to make sure Goku didn't die, because that's the life that's going to make a difference!!

kicking biting scratching clawing snapping growling and putting in overtime to make sure everyone, especially himself, understands that he Does Not Care About These People and regain some kind of control over his life/self is pretty normal in abused abducted scared stressed people. Which is exactly what happened when Goku came back in the Buu saga. Vegeta realized he had 24 hours (and one (1) fight) to validate all of the time he's spent working his ass off between that very first retreat and now, and he gets desperate and spirals overthinking about how he's not who he was anymore.

Goku has to tell him to his face that he knows he cares about his family when he's trying to do what he did in the android saga, back when nobody knew him well enough to call him a liar. But that's the great and infuriating thing about Goku in the manga, he lacks all sense of formality and shares Honest Observations with his Whole Chest, so Vegeta knows if Goku points something out, it's the truth (which is also why it was such a big deal that he lied to Krillin in Super but I digress!!), which is what makes him resign to that truth (Which is also visited again in Super, that Vegeta is not who he used to be. The difference is that, by then, he's smiling when he says it).

Anyway this is me once again being old man yell at clouds about how Vegeta is done SO dirty throughout the anime old and new, and it kneecaps so much of his character arc, and why the other characters want him around at all, much less for over a decade (because !! he's NOT a dick all the time, turns out!! He's clever and grounded and highly controlled and extremely competent most of the time!! Even ROSHI points out Vegeta's Majin behavior isn't like him. Which is how he survived the Freeza Force for thirty goddamn years, Toei. I can't beLIEVE you would cut out the casual water cooler banter between Geets and Freeza while Goku's sitting there bleeding out what's wrONG with you that is the funniest part of the movie askldjas)

[queenofcats17]

So, I saw a very funny TikTok, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And then I ended up writing this.

This is completely unserious and just an excuse to write baby Jing Yuan having a big old crush.

Does get a little sentimental near the end.

===================================

Jing Yuan was definitely paying attention.

He was definitely paying attention to what Igor was saying and had not spent the last however long Igor had been talking being utterly mesmerized by every aspect of the red-haired outworlder.

Despite the deep and profound sadness in his eyes, Igor spoke with such energy and determination. When he got excited, as he was now, he became especially animated and boisterous, speaking with an infectious passion. Jing Yuan could have listened to him talk for hours. Not to mention Igor had just finished a fight and was glistening with sweat. Sweat that dripped down his chiseled jawline and onto his chest to pool between his voluptuous pecs-

....

….Okay, maybe he hadn’t been paying attention.

But he couldn't help it! Igor was just so captivating. Trying to act normal around Yingxing was bad enough, but this was even worse. It wasn't fair for Igor to simultaneously be so utterly stunning and incredibly noble and heroic! He'd gone all across the universe to try and rally support for his home planet, and no matter how many rejections he faced he never stopped.

It was amazing.

And it didn't hurt that he was a very handsome man.

"Ah, I'm sorry." Igor suddenly paused, letting out a sheepish laugh. "I must be boring you."

"No! Not at all!" Jing Yuan quickly replied. Perhaps a bit too quickly.

"Are you sure?" Igor asked, raising an eyebrow. "You seemed to have your head in the clouds if you'll excuse the pun."

"The only thing I was lost in was your eyes..." Jing Yuan whispered. And those beautiful muscles.

However, he didn't seem to have said this as quietly as he thought he had, as both Igor and General Huaiyan (who Jing Yuan had completely forgotten was there) made noises of surprise. And perhaps amusement, in Igor's case.

"What was that?" Igor asked, clearly trying to stifle his laughter.

Jing Yuan felt his face beginning to grow warm.

"Uh, nothing!" He said. "A-Anyway, you were telling us about how you learned to box, weren't you?"

"I was," Igor confirmed with a smile. "Five minutes ago."

Jing Yuan's face grew even warmer. "Oh." He squeaked.

Thankfully, Igor didn't seem particularly upset. In fact, he let out a booming laugh at Jing Yuan's reaction.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist." He reached over to pat Jing Yuan's shoulder, something that only served to make Jing Yuan's heart beat even faster.

"In any case." General Huaiyan politely cleared his throat, causing Igor to step back and remove his hand from Jing Yuan's shoulder. "It has been wonderful speaking with you, but I do believe Jing Yuan and I have some appointments we must attend to."

Appointments? What was the general-?

Jing Yuan suddenly stood up straighter as the realization hit him.

"I'm late for training!" He yelled.

Oh, Aeons... He would probably have to do so many sword drills to make up for being late.

"I'm so sorry, Igor, I really need to go. I'll see you later!" He quickly bowed to Igor before scrambling off toward the courtyard.

As much as he hoped Jingliu had also become caught up in War Dance preparations, he knew she would never be late for training. He didn't know if she'd been late to anything for the entire time he'd known her.

Sure enough, as he approached the courtyard, he could hear the sound of her sharpening stone against her sword. His stomach clenched. Hopefully, Jingliu wouldn't be too upset with him. He hadn't meant to be late. General Huaiyan would be able to back him up!

"I-I'm sorry I'm late!" Jing Yuan gasped as he skidded to a stop in the courtyard.

Jingliu didn't look up from her sword. Jing Yuan breathed an internal sigh of relief that she didn't seem upset. Her movements were slow and fluid, not jerky or forceful as they were when she was irritated with him.

"Normally this kind of tardiness would earn you an extra hour of practice," she said.

Jing Yuan stifled a groan, his arms already beginning to ache at the anticipation of the extra hour of sword drills.

"However," Jingliu continued, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Given what I imagine are the special circumstances of this tardiness, I think I'll spare you. Just this once."

For a moment, Jing Yuan was confused. Special circumstances? What did she-?

Suddenly, it hit him, and he felt his cheeks begin to grow warm.

"Special circumstances?" He squeaked.

Jingliu nodded, continuing to sharpen her sword with a calm and unhurried motion that made Jing Yuan feel all the more mortified.

"I heard you've been quite taken with a certain War Dance contestant," she said.

Jing Yuan wanted very badly for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Had he been that obvious? He'd only talked with Igor a few times, he couldn't have made that much of an impression on everyone else in those few times.

"He's a very inspiring figure," he said. "I think there's a great deal I could learn from him."

"He is quite inspiring," Jingliu agreed, although from her tone Jing Yuan could tell she didn't believe that was the only reason he was drawn to Igor. "I hope your admiration for him won't affect your fight against him, should he reach you in the war dance."

"Of course not!" Jing Yuan immediately shook his head. "It would be an insult to all he's worked for to go easy on him!"

Jingliu smiled, clearly satisfied with this answer as she set her sword aside. "Good. Now, we've wasted enough time. Let's begin our training."

After that, Jing Yuan had hoped no one else would comment on his evidently obvious crush on Igor.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him.

"Heard you got a crush on that red-headed boxer."

Jing Yuan resisted the urge to scream as he watched Yingxing hammer away at the molten metal of his current project.

"Has everyone heard about that by now?" He groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Okay, so, admittedly he might have deserved this. He had dropped by to distract himself from his certainly unrequited crush on Igor by using his almost certainly unrequited crush on Yingxing. Surely, he'd thought, watching a shirtless Yingxing hammer away at a molten piece of metal would take his mind off the mental image of Igor in his undershirt trading blows with a sparring partner.

Yingxing gave him a sly grin that sent butterflies fluttering in Jing Yuan's stomach. "You haven't exactly been subtle. Everyone's seen you making eyes at him every time he's around."

"Wha-! I haven't been making eyes at him!" Jing Yuan sputtered.

He had definitely been making eyes at Igor. He knew he had. But he hadn't known he'd been so obvious about it.

Yingxing's grin only got wider. "Uh-huh. Sure. Then what do you call what you've been doing?"

Jing Yuan's face felt like it was on fire, and he was sure it was as red as the coals powering Yingxing's forge. "I don't know! Looking at him with admiration?"

"Uh-huh." Yingxing just kept watching him, still smiling wide.

"I just think he's very heroic!" Jing Yuan said. "And very knowledgable!"

"Sure you do." Yingxing nodded as he turned his attention back to his project.

"I do!" Jing Yuan insisted.

"Mm-hm." Yingxing was still smiling. "You know, he does seem to like you too."

Jing Yuan immediately perked up. "He does?"

"From what I've heard, at least." Yingxing shrugged slightly. "But you should probably ask him if you want confirmation."

"What... What does he like about me?" Jing Yuan nervously fiddled with the hem of his uniform.

"I don't know." Yingxing's hammer fell on the metal. "You should ask him.

Jing Yuan squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't want to just ask Igor. What if Igor thought he was weird? After all, Igor was on a noble mission to save his homeland. He probably didn't have time for Jing Yuan's silly little teenage crush.

"I can hear you overthinking it." Yingxing's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Just talk to him. From what I've heard, he seems to think pretty highly of you. I doubt he'll react badly to you asking what he likes about you."

"You're... sure he won't think I'm weird?" Jing Yuan asked quietly.

"I'm not," Yingxing admitted. "But I doubt he will."

Jing Yuan frowned. That wasn't a guarantee. He did trust Yingxing's judgment, but... what if it turned out badly?

"Just talk to him," Yingxing pressed.

"Alright..." Jing Yuan conceded. "I'll... I'll go now."

"Good." Yingxing nodded in approval, shooing Jing Yuan away.

Jing Yuan made his way out of the forge, slowly heading toward the War Dance arena where he was sure Igor would be practicing. He could do this, he told himself. He could talk to Igor and not make this weird. It would be fine. He would be fine.

However, whatever plan he had went right out the window the second he saw Igor, sweaty and exchanging blows with a training partner. Worse still, Igor visibly brightened upon seeing Jing Yuan, gesturing to his partner to take a break before hurrying over.

"Jing Yuan! What a pleasant surprise!" He said. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon."

"Ah, uh, well, I... wanted to talk to you." Jing Yuan forced himself to smile back, even as he could feel his hands beginning to shake.

"Well, I'm more than happy to talk to you," Igor said. His smile was so warm and bright. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I... Uh..." Suddenly, Jing Yuan's mind had gone blank.

"Yes?" Igor waited patiently.

"Yingxing said you like me," Jing Yuan finally blurted out. "What do you like?"

Igor looked slightly confused by this declaration but did laugh.

"You're asking what I like about you?" He asked.

"Um... Yes." Jing Yuan nodded.

Igor's expression softened. "Well, I like how genuine you are," he said. "You have a good heart, Jing Yuan. I think you're going to do great things someday."

Jingliu had told him before that she thought he was going to do great things someday, but it felt different hearing it coming from Igor. It felt.... special.

"I'm sure you're going to do great things too," Jing Yuan said. "You'll definitely save your world. I know you will."

Igor's smile fell a bit, although he tried to hide it. "Thank you. I... hope so too."

They lapsed into silence after that. Internally, Jing Yuan was starting to freak out. He'd said the wrong thing! Now Igor was upset!

"Do you want to spar?" He asked.

The sadness left Igor's smile as he laughed and nodded. "I'd like that. I'll need all the practice I can get if I'm going to have a chance against you in the War Dance."

An edge crept into Jing Yuan's smile. "You know I won't go easy on you, right?"

A similar edge entered Igor's smile. "I wasn't expecting you to."

Jing Yuan's heart fluttered as he followed Igor back to the sparring area. No matter what happened after the War Dance, no matter how much time passed, he would always cherish these memories. He was never going to forget Igor. He was sure of that.

He hoped Igor would never forget him either.

[alexquisites-blog]

|Tempest Unleashed- Chapter 2: 2019|

Years Ago

Charlotte was already up and awake as she was setting up everything for the big day ahead as she saw Kate awake and grabbed her camera as Charlotte grabbed her's before standing besides Kate and the two of them snapped a few quick photos of the system ahead of them. The two looked at each other before doing a tornado spin with their index fingers and began heading back to the site behind them Kate went to Jeb and the others to wake them up as Charlotte was looking everything to make sure it was perfect as Kate went to the van and honked the horn.

"Storm's here guys let's go!" Kate announced as Maya walked her way over to her cousin. 

"Nah, nah, I got way too hard last night." Javi complained.

"Javi, get up, come on!" Kate yelled as she went to pull  his sleeping bag over his head.

"You should really listen to her man. She's on it today." Charlotte chuckled, sipping her coffee.

"Come on, why are you on her side? I need more sleep." He groaned as Charlotte walked over and smiled. 

"Because I feel today is going to our best shot at doing this, and Kate agrees." Charlotte crossed her arms.

"It's so early, just a few more minutes. It won't hurt." He groaned.

"Nope, and now I'm stealing this." She grabbed the sleeping back before stuffing it back in the van.

"Ugh, fine." He said getting up.

**

As Kate was recording her video with Jeb recording, Charlotte was helping her brother with Dorothy.

"The Doppler doesn't show a storm until the afternoon." Praveen said. 

"Well, the data doesn't see what Kate sees." Addy explained.

"And that's for a fact, Kate sees it all." Charlotte popped up.

"How about Kate sees a few more hours of sleep?" Javi suggested.

"Nope, sorry you're going to have to live off of what you have for today." 

"Praveen. What are you doing? Dorothy's not a desk." Javi explained as Praveen took the computer off of Dorothy.

"She's very special." She said, patting the container. "And helped us beat that son of a bitch Jonas." She muttered to herself getting a small flashback to when she was in her preteens. "Fashionably late again, Jonas? Fashionably late! Gimmie kiss, baby!"  Before she continued working.

"Come on. Get in. Get in!" Kate was guiding everyone to get into the camera frame as they all got in. "Ready? Do you know what today is?"

"The day we save a tornado!" Charlotte, Javi, Praveen, Addy, and Jeb all yell at one.

"I'm going to yak first." Javi walked off. 

"I'll make sure he doesn't yak too much." Charlotte chuckled, patting his back.

**

Later the group began driving towards the system that was ahead of them. Javi and Charlotte were in the van softly singing Salio El Sol by Don Omar and snacking on Hot Cheetos.

"Do you see the coloring? It's beautiful!" Charlotte called out, trying to get a good view of the clouds.

"Yeah, yeah, I see it." Javi said as he grabbed the radio. "Alright, how are we getting this thing? Me and Charlotte need a southwest position to read the sensors."

"Yeah I'm coming right up." Jeb spoke into the radio as they turned right. 

"I call next song." She said, grabbing her phone and picking Vivir Mi Vida by Marc Anthony.

"Ooo okay Charlotte go perfect choice." Javi smiled, driving down the road as she was singing her heart out until the group stopped on the side of the road to work on the mixture.

"There she is!" Javi called out.

"She's looking mighty big and strong." She said following him and gave him the computer as the two walked up to Addy continuously pushing the button to open Dorothy.

"Hey, gentle, gentle, light." Javi requested as Javi hit it. 

"Hey, she didn't need that." Charlotte pushed his hand away.

"Whatever, now try." Javi requested Addy, pushed, it didn't work. "Usually, it works."

"Apparently, she just needs some talking to, don't you girl, you will get this data." Charlotte said as Addy tried pushing it again. "Never mind then..." 

"This thing is so old." 

"Hey!" Charlotte muttered.

"I mean, it's old, but it's field tested. Charlotte was literally there when it started back in the day."

"See!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"You know, unlike Kate's science project over here."

"Javi has a point." Charlotte muttered. 

"It's our science project." Praveen explained.

"There's no time, Charlotte, Javi. If Dorthy's not working, then forget the data, okay? We'll worry about it later." Kate said.

"Forget the data -"

"It's not going to wait for us, Javi... Charlotte." 

"Kate... Jeb, the data is a crucial part, me and Javi both need this." Charlotte crossed her arms a little upset. "Data is the most important piece out of storm chasing."

"There's a death rate setting in. Look both of you. This is probably our last chase of the season." 

Charlotte put her hands up. "You know what it's equally as important." She muttered, containing her emotions.

"No matter what, we gotta get these barrels in the air and see if they can make a tornado vanish, okay? It's more important." Kate explained as Charlotte takes a deep breath, putting her hands on her sides.

"No, how about that it's equally as important, we do both right?" Javi suggested.

"Exactly!" Charlotte jumps in.

"If you make a tornado vanish with this, but you don't get the data with this. Who's gonna believe it?"

"No one guys. That's the answer they'll just think it's some stupid thing with the air or whatever." She said as Addy pushed the button again and it opened. 

"Oh, got it!" Addy exclaimed as Charlotte grabbed a sensor and gave it a quick kiss for good luck before putting it back in.

"Fine, the two best cousins better get us that data. Whatever we need to win a big fat grand." Kate exclaimed before Charlotte began to make her way over to the van as she watched the four drive off as Javi joined Charlotte in the van. 

"Alright here we go, I feel today's gonna be the day." She smiled.

"Agreed." Javi said nodding watching the radar with Charlotte on his side.

The two are in the van watching the computers as a radio comes through from Addy. "Javi, Charlotte. How's Dorothy's GPS?"

"Coming and loud a clear." Javi said as Charlotte grabbed the walkie talkie

"It's definitely some system just be careful guys." Charlotte said before giving it back as she got up a few minutes later and grabbed a snack before throwing one to Javi as he smiled. "Anything from them yet?"

"Nope not yet." Javi said as he opened his bag and began to snack as so did Charlotte as another few minutes past.

"Okay we dropped the trailer." Kate said through the radio. 

"Alright this better work." Charlotte said nervous.

"Now let's see if it takes the bait." Javi added as moments later data was showing. "Woo Baby!" He said high-fiving her. "We just shot up 10,000 feet." 

"Hell yeah!" Charlotte screamed.

"It's rising 30,000 feet." Javi radioed.

"Javi it's not weaking..." She said before getting up getting the other computer. "Shit, shit."

"Dorothy can't tell you that..." He explained as Charlotte panicked.

"Tell you what?"

"If the wind speeds are wearing. 40,000 feet, your tornado isn't shrinking Kate. 50,000 feet."

"Javi they need to get out of there as soon as possible this isn't good." 

"This isn't right." Javi said before trying to go do something.

"Yeah no shit! Wait what are you doing?" She watched him as Addy's voice was repeating.

"Guys, talk to us. Talk to us. Talk to us."

"Sensor's just shot up 70,000." Javi radioed as Charlotte looked at him.

"Tell them they need to get out of there quick!" Charlotte said nervous.

"Guys whatever is in there it's big and it's moving fast. Drive. Get the hell out of there!" 

"Like now, just go! Go!" Charlotte radioed after Javi as she stood close to him anxiously. 

"Repeat you guys get out of there!" He radioed but no response. "Kate!" Javi looked at Charlotte.

"Shit, why aren't they saying anything!?" Charlotte panicked. "Guys!" She tears up holding onto her cousin. 

"They probably found somewhere to take cover, I don't know look we just have to sit it out." He said keeping her close. "I know we want to know what's going on but we just have to wait."

As the storm passed after a few minutes, they pulled up Dorothy's radar before driving along the route to find Kate and the others. As Charlotte and Javi were driving, they saw the SUV flipped all broken on the side of the road as Javi was rubbing Charlotte's shoulder. The two parked the car due to debris covering the road as there was a cop car and a blonde girl. Charlotte instantly recognized it was Kate before she ran over with Javi behind.

"Kate thank God your okay, where's the others?" Charlotte asked hugging Kate slowly.

"T-they didn't make it, they're all gone, and it's my fault." She said in tears.

"Kate, it isn't your fault. You didn't know it was going to become an F5." Javi adds.

"I can't do this anymore..." Kate looked at the two cousins.

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Gonna rant off-topic for a second?

There's something very bizarre about seeing my favorite childhood show (Fairly Oddparents), which ran on too long and lost my respect way before it was eventually cancelled, makes a revival whose episodes are (for now?) behind a paywall, and a bunch of my mutuals suddenly are talking about it. Not good or bad, but weird hearing them make serious and angsty headcanons about adult Poof and Doug Dimmadome's (grandson?) I never would have expected angst about a Dimmadome. It's like if someone made a 2 hour serious analysis video about Dingleberg (I mean that could exist, I'd watch it lol). Not sure if I want to watch the new show, Im still not over the original. It's like, Im still at the funeral even though the show's been dead for years, but people keep talking about a baby with the same name but Im not ready to meet that grandchild no matter how many people gush about them, No hate I mean Im sure they're cute and all but it's not the same :(. That's how I feel for now.

Still salty that a youtuber I like said that the new main character was an improvement of Timmy Turner (I dont know much about the new character but you didnt need to insult the legend, for shame ), and that Timmy was a largely boring unrelatable character. Timmy was an Adhd unpopular kid having a crappy childhood, what do you mean he was unrelatable? "Average kid" being in the theme song was just to make him seem relatable, how can you watch the old show and say he had no personality?? Also, I know this is old-man-yelling-at-clouds but I wish it was in 2d again.

[tagedeszorns]

What's boring you about the fandom? Sorry to hear you're struggling with that at the moment.

Just wanted to say though, it is normal to go through stages of fixation and ambivalence, especially if it feels like you might have plumbed the most exciting depths of your preferred niche. (I have felt like that so many times in other fandoms lol...) Maybe it's worth exploring other parts of the fandom, you might find something that ignites your passion again. Alternatively, if you need a break or feel the need to branch out, do it. The fandom will still be here when you feel like engaging again.

(Also, if you feel like it sometime, please tell us more about your minis and joytoy figs. Are they named? Do they have backstories?)

I'm not bored. I'm just having a severe "old man yells at cloud"-moment, like I do semi-regularly. 😉

When I came to the Tumblr-branch of Warhammer-fandom it felt so very exciting - artists and writers regularly got 80 to over 100 notes in a few days on their texts and pics (not just memes and/or shitposts, mind you! The real stuff!) - and not just likes, a lot of reblogs, comments and so much discussion! So many HC were developed here for everybody to see and to participate.

But this all changed. No fire nation, though.

I'm getting a bit tired of saying it over and over myself, but in my opinion it still is true: Discord is slowly killing fandom-permanence. Discord isn't good for conserving things. Ideas vanish. Pics get consumed like fast food and digested just as fast, leaving no nutritional value for viewer or artist. Thoughts get lost, because they wander down the chat-drain and vanish into nothing. HCs get no engagement, fade and die.

The slow, ugly decay of Twitter didn't help. A lot of new people not getting how Tumblr is supposed to be played and take the easy way out to Discord, too.

A Tumblr-blog is a very intimate showcase of a person's journey as a fan. It's like a geological slice of their interests and thoughts. I love that. I want to keep that. I want to get to know other fans. And not the shallow, fleeting way of Discord.

Yeah, as I said - old man yells at totally uncaring cloud. I can't stop time. I have to adapt or remain behind.

And the other thing is my "ceterum censeo" of being bitter about people just paying attention to Primarch-content and don't care about the guys from second row who are in my opinion so much more interesting and colourful. And if they get the spotlight it's just some meme-shit or being waifu'd to hell and back.

I love being silly about characters I like. I love making up shitty sidestories, silly AUs and other absolutely hilarious OOC-stuff. But if that's all that remains from a character, that's just sad.

I need way more Credible Hulks who love quoting the books as much as I do, around me!

But anyways, I'll come around.

That I had quite a few not so very good books this year didn't help either. I need both the Eidolon- and the Xantine-book to be good, next year! And St. Martin better NOT writing any shit about Lucius attacking Fenris (I mean, WTF, St. Martin! That short story was the worst you ever wrote, man!).