#Sacred bamboo

[duxuebing]

Photography by Xuebing Du

[plantstudyspace]

Sunday, 6th March, 2022 💐

[faguscarolinensis]

Nandina domestica / Heavenly Bamboo at the JC Raulston Arboretum at North Carolina State University in Raleigh, NC

[dfl-inc]

AI image generation

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[kaninchenzero]

the bamboo hat, in martial arts fantasy stories, feels not unlike making an x with your forearms at a vampire the masquerade larp

okay, bamboo hat saberman, we're just going to pretend to not recognize you until such time as a Dramatic Reveal becomes appropriate

[jakethefurry]

Lol im making an anime

[andy-wm]

Say it with flowers

My thoughts on the SGMB live recording video.

I've had this in my drafts for months. It's one of those moments that I just can't move on from. If this has already been discussed at length I won't be surprised but just in case it hasn't....

WHO gave Jimin those flowers...?

When the SGMB recording video first dropped, i saw comments that the flowers were from Loco or from Big Hit or from the SGMB band.

I cannot agree. Did the commenters not SEE the flowers?

I believe the flowers to 'support Jimin's future endeavours' were from Jungkook.

Because of course they were.

And for those who need an explanation, here's why:

This is not a bouquet of flowers you would get from colleagues, or your management company, or even your friends. This bouquet screams PASSIONATE LOVE. It is so obvious that i can't even imagine giving a platonic friend these flowers without a lengthy explanation (or a confession), let alone a professional acquaintance.

Let's take a closer look at Jimin's bouquet:

I took the time to research all the components of the bouquet to make sure i wasn't overreacting (Me? Overreact?! Never!!)

Here they are:

Red roses - passionate love, romance, and desire - 12 of these roses if I counted correctly, which represents a declaration.

Mini red chrysanthemums - in red, the chrysanthemum means love and passion, or truth

Sacred bamboo (Nandina) - the berries represent changing hardship into good, the end of hard times, and prosperity. It also wards off evil. (7 is the leaves of the Sacred Bamboo)

More red roses - either bush roses or a smaller variety. Love, again.

Red viburnum - "To make red hot". Passionate love, Love stronger than death.

Silver Wattle - hidden feelings, hidden love. (wow)

Sacred bamboo (leaves see #3 for berries)

Difficult to identify but I think it's either Veronica or Salvia. Veronica symbolises loyalty, fidelity and love. Salvia is for protection, and red salvia means forever mine.

I think this might be pink muhly grass. It doesn't seem that common in floristry but it is a very romantic and beautiful seasonal grass in Korea.

Barley grass - time for relaxation, free time, or prosperity.

Those flowers are a grand gesture

They're a declaration of love.

Jungkook is after all the king of grand gestures...

... and he knows a thing or two about the language of flowers.

So it seems perfectly fitting for him to make his heart known with a huge bouquet.

Naturally the theme of the bouquet is very much in keeping with the theme of SGMB,

The central tenet of the song is the truth untold and, these flowers certainly tell the truth, loud and clear.

I find myself thinking about whether he chose to do it in front of a crowd of people and I actually don't think he thought too much about them. Based on what I know of JK's personality (admittedly very little, having never met the man) I believe he thought of Jimin, and Jimin only.

Did he take a gift that would not only celebrate Jimin's achievement, but also show his commitment to that love and to not hiding?

Both heart and my head say yes, that's exactly what he did.

💜💛

I also believe JK was at the SCMB live recording

Here's why:

Having seen AYS, we know Jimin does this parody of the SNTY choreo to tease JK. Would it have been as amusing for Jimin if JK wasn't there to see it? I doubt it, as the payoff (JK's grumbling) wouldn't happen. Where's the fun in that?

And also:

Jimin: "Can i come over for a meal?"

Loco: "We can all go together" points to someone off-screen

[Remember that Loco is friends with Jay Park, who Jungkook is also friends with]

Jimin: *looks at person off-screen* Dammit. So much for secrets

And also:

Jimin, looking to the right of the camera, which is where everyone else will be looking in a moment.

Yup, we see Loco, Pdogg, and several of the dancers repeatedly glance to the right of the camera. They seem very interested in something there, sharing their attention between Jimin and the distraction off-screen. It would seem rude if it weren't for the fact that Jimin himself is equally distracted.

And also:

Pdogg's cute head shake at this situation tells me there's more going on here than we can see.

This song remains one of my favourites. The lighthearted joy and humour that runs through the live performance, the choreo, the melody, and the lyrics is everything I want for Jimin.

I hope his happiness lasts decades, our beautiful flower boy 💛

While we're on the topic of flowers, let's recap on the meanings of the oversized flowers on the set of SGMB:

According to Korean floriography (that's the study of the symbolism of flowers)

Blue anemone - anticipation, and protection from evil

Purple aster - love triumphs

Orange lily - cheerful love (strikingly similar to JK's birth flower)

White Poeticus daffodil - connection to youthfulness and the awakening of desire, rebirth, hope (young forever?)

Butterfly - happiness and transformation

I do have a gazillion references for the floriography, which i will add.

Its such an awesome and fascinating topic. I never knew that it became not only popular, but empowering, because so many 18 century women were unable to access an education and were therefore illiterate.

The symbolic meaning attached to flowers became an important communication tool for them.

🌻🐰💗🐥⚘️

Edited to add references (these may not be all of them, I had SO many tabs)

https://simplybeyondherbs.com/daffodils-flower-meaning/

https://www.freddiesflowers.com/blog/floriography-the-lost-language-of-flowers

https://greg.app/articles/

https://en.namu.wiki/w/%EA%BD%83%EB%A7%90

https://kukka.kr/farmersmarket/

https://www.lovetoknow.com/home/garden/meaning-symbolism-different-color-chrysanthemums

[thehmn]

I’m currently listening to Maren Uthaug’s book 11% about a world where most men have died. I should probably wait until I’ve finished the book but I’m so fascinated by the world building.

As of now it’s still unclear why the men died but when the story takes place there’s a mix of older women who fucking hates men and young women who have only met drugged up men at “breeding centers” and imagine “males” as violent boogeymen but otherwise don’t really care and just want to live in the new seemingly perfect society their grandmothers fought for. The only people who still fight for men’s rights are witches who believe masculine energies are as natural and Of Nature as feminine energies, but even they sound more like animal rights activists, standing outside breeding centers with signs every Friday. Their most provocative sign is a picture of a man with Human written on it.

Christianity has been completely transformed and is now run by priests (they don’t call themselves priestess) who can only hold ceremonies when they have their periods and snakes are their most sacred symbol because they gave knowledge to Eva and God is called The Mother.

Trans men exist but are referred to as Man Women and they all seem to be sex workers who have functional silicone penises, though I’m not far enough into the story to know if they have other jobs. They generally also still have breasts because working as a wet nurse is another source of income for them. Testosterone treatments is not an option because it would make them too masculine and dangerous to be allowed into society but they all have male names and everyone use male pronouns for them.

A really fascinating aspect of the world is how people want to get rid of the old “patriarchal architecture” of straight lines and boxes but refuse to tear it down with machines, instead insisting on letting Mother Nature reclaim it. Only Rat Girls are actively trying to destroy the old buildings by releasing hoards of rats into them and planting bamboo to break up the concrete. New buildings have round shapes and are build in ways that make them blend in with cultivated nature and inside they’re painting in beautiful colors with no hard edges. They sound a lot like colorful hobbit homes. Also, locks are considered uncivilized and of a time when violent men roamed the earth and made life unsafe so nothing, from front doors to bathrooms, have locks. For a while after most men died women would go for Night Walks to relish in the fact that they no longer had to be afraid, though they liked to visit the witches at night because it felt a little spooky, which the witches thought was good fun.

The story is naturally about a middle aged witch who is hiding a young boy illegally and gets milk from one of the trans men in the red district while also sleeping with a Christian priest who struggles with her sacred job because her periods are irregular.

I’ll come back with follow up thoughts once I’ve finished it. Unlike what you might think, Maren Uthau isn’t a scary man hater. I’ve listened to most of her other books and this isn’t a recurring trope so clearly she has something to say specifically with this story and it’s rated pretty highly by both male and female readers. I think I’m in for quite the ride.

[evilminji]

Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

[aulostheremin]

Trying to understand the zodiac animals in Black Myth Wukong

this post is pretty much me trying to gather much info on these four characters. due to their little screentime and limited backstory, this intrigues me immensely.

so how about we start from the beginning, what are the 12 Chinese zodiacs. (keep in mind I mostly take these info from Wikipedia and the game's Wiki page)

According to the common legend, The Jade Emperor's decree that the years on the calendar would be named for each animal in the order they reached him. To get there, the animals would have to cross a river to reach the heavenly gates. (another popular myth is that the Jade Emperor orders 12 animals for the race to be his guards) The first animal to win is Rat and the last is Pig.

interestingly, they are called Zodiac Deities in the game. but why only 4 zodiacs? what about the rest? that will be touched upon later on.

now let's talk about them one by one and working out their timeline within the game.

Shen Monkey is the first zodiac we met in chapter 1. He's simply shown as a drunkard with a simple and carefree attitude. However he's quite knowledgeable on brews and tonics to give to Destined One. He knew the other monkeys on Mount Huago and possibly aware of Destined One's reincarnations. After his descent to the mortal realm, he brought treasure troves with him and only spent his days drinking in a lush and lovely spot of the Bamboo Grove.

Xu Dog is the second zodiac from chapter 2 near the Sandgate Village entrance. He's a profession in medicinal arts. He's quite neurotic and anxious all the time. apparently after his descent, he became a regular dog to a Daoist who's known for creating an ancient formula for an immortality pill. unfortunately, the Daoist died from a furnace explosion. Xu Dog returned back to his normal form, pitying his owner and disappeared.

Chen Loong is the third zodiac from chapter 3. When first encountered him at Bitter Lake, Chen Loong will be hostile and attacks the Destined One. Upon his defeat, he begins lamenting of his fall from grace and cries of his wish to consume a Resurrection Pill from Xu Dog. Chen Loong has the most important lore of the zodiacs. after their descent, The Sacred Divinity (Erlang Shen) gifted him the Ruyi Scroll that leads to a secluded and tranquil retreat.

Yin Tiger is the last zodiac and we can only meet him in the Painted Realm village. he is a fierce and serious blacksmith. he used to do his craftsmanship in the Hall of Yuanchen (I've searched if this place existed in jttw but nothing shows up. however, it does existed in real life. it is a hall dedicated to worship the Goddess of the Great Dipper and Sixty Taisui Deities. if anyone is more acknowledge on this part, let me know cus I'm afraid i could be wrong).

One day, he was visited by Sun Wukong who requested him to make the monkey king a better armour. But Yin Tiger refused as the gold armour is already excellent.

what's interesting when l look at the Tiger zodiac elements, it fits perfectly for Yin Tiger. they were quite clever for this.

now finally let's lay out their lore timeline with some help from headcanons and speculations.

After the great race, the 12 animals became Deities that resided in the Celestial Court. some of them became close to Sun Wukong, referring to each other as brothers. After Wukong's imprisonment by Erlang Shen, the four Zodiac Deities were banished to the mortal realm. some time after, Erlang gifted Chen Loong the scroll for their safety. however, Chen Loong, Yin Tiger, Xu Dog and Shen Monkey decided to go on their separate ways and planned to reunite on an appointed day. only Yin Tiger stayed to guard the zodiac village. perhaps they knew about Destined One and wanted to help him out on his journey.

another speculation I have as to why Dragon, Dog, Monkey and Tiger are paired together cus only four of them are mainly associated with the Earthly Branch symbol. in fact, their first names are a reference to it.

these are only my personal headcanons for the zodiacs. it's also unsure what happened to the rest of the zodiacs. were they spared and still stayed in the Court or were they also banished? who knows what the game devs have in stored.

[croquis-el]

Authentic Japan in Gyakuten Saiban pt. 1

Those who played the Ace Attorney localization know that all the names authentic to Japan were either changed to common ones, or more or less explained by the characters watched movies/TV series and so on.

And what about the original Japanese version?

We encounter the decoration of a Japanese house in 2-2, when we visit the Kurain village. And what is noteworthy is that Naruhodō is well informed about such items and actively comments on each of them.

For starters, the curious name of one of the locations

同日 某時刻

綾里家・わたりろうか

Dōjitsu bō jikoku

Ayasato-ka watari rō ka

Same day, at a certain time

Ayasato family, Watarirōka

渡り廊下 (watarirōka) - passage

The word consists of the following kanji:

渡り (watari) - transit, ferry, cross

廊 (rō) - corridor, hall

下 (ka) - below, down, descend, low, inferior

I have an idea why the localization called this location "Winding Way", but I'm not a native speaker, so I can't be sure of the correctness of my conclusions. "Wind your way" fits the meaning quite well, but in my opinion, there was no point in reinventing the wheel and calling the "corridor" something else.

___________________________________________

灯ろうに、ししおどし。リッパな庭だなあ。

tōrō ni, shishi odoshi. Rippana niwada nā.

Tōrō lanterns and Shishiodoshi. What a nice garden.

････遊ぶには ちょっとせまいけど。

asobu ni wa chotto semaikedo.

... It's a little small to play in though.

でも、あの焼却炉が気になるなあ。

demo, ano shōkyakuro ga ki ni naru nā.

But I'm curious about that incinerator.

鹿威し (ししおどし) [shishiodoshi] - water-filled bamboo tube which clacks against a stone when emptied, device for scaring birds from gardens

___________________________________________

床の間。････ぼくにはどうも、 この空間のイミがわからない。

tokonoma. Boku ni wa dōmo, kono kūkan no imi ga wakaranai.

Tokonoma. ...I don't really understand the meaning of this space.

事務所にこんなものがあったら、 あっという間に物置だな。

jimusho ni kon'na mono ga attara, attoiumani monookida na.

If I had something like this in my office, it would just turn into a storage room.

しかしここには、きれいな花とシャレた掛け軸がかざってある。

shikashi koko ni wa, kireinahana to shareta kakejiku ga kazatte aru.

But there are beautiful flowers and stylish hanging scrolls here.

Tokonoma is an alcove or niche in the wall of a traditional Japanese home, one of the 4 main components of the main room of a Japanese aristocratic house.

Tokonoma should contain only art objects, such as kakemono - a scroll with a painting or a calligraphically written saying, motto or poem. Also, a small flower arrangement (ikebana) is a common attribute.

Interesting fact: according to Japanese etiquette, the most important guest sits with his back to the tokonoma.

Now pay attention to where and how the futon is located, on which the guest in the beret slept (if she had sat down on the futon, she would have ended up with her back to the tokonoma). Here you have a "simple student studying the occult".

Well, the fact that Naruhodo sees no point in having such a space in the house and is ready to use it as a warehouse, completely ignoring its original purpose, tells us that for him it is considered a relic of the past and has no sacred meaning (even as an art object). He is a modern resident of modern Japan, where there is no place for such traditions.

___________________________________________

そういえば、障子を見るのもひさしぶりだな。

sō ieba, shōji o miru no mo hisashi-burida na.

Now that I think about it, it's been a while since I last saw a shoji screen.

___________________________________________

青あおとしたサカキが まつられている。

aoao to shita sakaki ga matsura rete iru.

A blue Sakaki tree is enshrined here.

Cleyera japonica (sakaki) is a flowering evergreen tree. It is considered sacred to Japanese Shintō faith, and is one of the classical offerings at Shintō shrines. In Shinto ritual offerings to the "gods; spirits" (神, kami), branches of sakaki are decorated with paper streamers (shide) to make tamagushi.

It turns out to be quite interesting - if a person is not familiar with these interior items, then not only will he not tell anything about them, but he will not even know what they are called. Naruhodo, whose childhood fell at the end of the 20th - beginning of the 21st century, could have learned about this only in a couple of cases:

1. He had been in a traditional Japanese house before, saw these items and was told about them by older relatives;

2. He independently studied old interior items (which is not surprising, because he studied art at the university).

This is also confirmed by his comment about shoji: "it's been a while since I last saw a shoji screen".

That is, he saw all this with his own eyes, but quite a long time ago.

Naruhodo is quite well educated in the culture of his own country, although some things have already lost their sacred meaning for him and are not used by him (and, possibly, his family) in everyday life.

Let's continue in the next part.

[faguscarolinensis]

Nandina domestica / Heavenly Bamboo at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC

[cegiel-athelia]

Snowfall Absolution

(Sequel to Zayne’s Master of Fate Myth)

In all honesty, the storyline broke me. It was not tragic like Foreseer’s myth, but it was by its own standing still devastating. I was crying at the end of it.

Writing this piece required some degree of research into the Chinese practices and culture. It was interesting and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Admittedly, I am somewhat glad that the developers left the myth open-ended because that meant we could form our own ending.

Hence, my need for closure has made me write this unofficial sequel.

There are some Destiny Cafe interactions which I felt alluded to a reunion and I have incorporated those lines in the story below.

Genre: Angst, Reconciliation, Fluff, Smut (sweet vanilla - ‘cause I cannot, at this time, imagine Master Zayne in any other manner, at least not when it is their first time together)

[An extended version of this fanfiction (involving ‘boom shakalaka’) is only found here on my Tumblr]

Friends from Insta and/or TikTok, welcome to Tumblr. Do drop me a note to say hi and/or share your thoughts on the story. :) I hope this helps to ease the heartbreak of the myth.

===================================

Sleep-ladened eyelids fluttered open as consciousness gradually returned to you and the stiffness in your body eased. The daylight which poured through the long oriental windows splayed across your face, making you shield your eyes behind your forearm. Your eyelids were still heavy from sleep and your temple throbbed as though you had been asleep for far too long.

Laying in bed still in a daze, you watched through your mind’s eye as frenzied visions raced through it. Visions that that felt so real, so alive, that it blurred the line between dream and reality.

In your dream, you had been searching for him for so long that you had almost given up any hope of ever seeing him again. Until one night, you found him. His face lacked the warmth you expected from him, but it was the fact that he had forgotten about you which broke your heart.

On hindsight, you could hardly say that your visions were dreams, but rather, a collection of nightmares, which massively snowballed with you caught in its path, never able to escape from it.

“Snowball…” you muttered tiredly, voice fresh from slumber. The distant melody of the wind chime seemed to grow louder as your mind focused on it. ‘Wind chime… A wind chime?’ Your eyelids flew open and your irises narrowed with sudden realisation. “Zayne!”

Never have you ever sprung out of bed so quickly, but you soon found yourself on the floor, the wooden boards creaked under your weight. You felt a pull in both your calf muscles as if you had not used your legs for months. Your breathing strained as though your lungs had not been used to its fullest capacity. Pushing these oddities from your mind, you strove to gather yourself.

Your eyes scanned the room, coming finally to rest on the long bamboo-printed drapes which swayed slowly side to side, assuring yourself that you are indeed remembering correctly. This is his abode.

‘But what if he isn’t there? What if I am still alone?’ Doubt filled your thoughts as you fought against every stubborn muscle to pick yourself up, ignoring the strain in your legs as you raced towards the doors, forcefully sliding them open.

A flash of sunlight blinded you, causing you to squint involuntarily and hide your eyes behind your fingers. Still, you persevered. You stumbled clumsily over lush green grass, quickening your pace once your eyes had adjusted to the light, heading towards the one place you knew you could find him.

The steady thumps of your feet against the crushing grass carried you as you neared the location where Sacred Tree stood. From where you were, you could already see the top of the tree. Its white flowers outshining the green leaves, painting the tree a pure white— like snow, except that it was warm.

You halted your approach when a tall figure standing under the tree came into view. You assimilated this person from afar. The man wore the very familiar navy blue and white garb; its long sleeves gracefully cascaded by each side of his elegant robe. His long black hair which was held together with a single embossed sliver hair clip swayed captivatingly in the wind and in his hand, was a jiǎndú— a bamboo scroll which he was immersed in. He was as magnificent as you remembered him to be.

Your heart pounded deafeningly in your ears. It was all that you could hear. He was so close. The need to touch him was palpable. You needed to know that he is real and not simply a figment of your imagination or dream. Your eyes stung from tears that rolled down your cheeks.

Before you realised, your feet had lifted off the ground as you sped towards him with all the strength you could muster, colliding hard into his back. The scroll which he was reading thudded softly onto the grass.

You did not care for the shocked gasp he exhaled on impact. All you wanted and needed was to hold him. Your arms wrapped around his torso so tightly that it would take two strong men to free him. You held him as though he would disappear at any moment. Gripping onto his robe, you desperately wanted to appreciate the tangibility of his person. ‘He’s real!’ You internally repeated this to yourself. With your face buried firmly into his back, you soaked in the warmth of his frame.

His body relaxed in your hold and a familiar sigh drifted to your ears. You had never thought that you would feel this elated to hear him sigh.

“You’re as restless as ever.” He murmured in the low tenor that you missed so dearly as his hands came to rest over yours.

Your emotions completely enveloped you as you sobbed brokenly, face still buried in his strong back. As much as you hated for him to see you in this state, it was beyond your control. It was telling from the dull pain in your chest that your broken heart was aching; and it was aching for only him. The revelation overwhelmed you. It was not that you had simply enjoyed his company during the time you spent together or that you missed him in that strange, vivid period of dreaming. You love him.

Gently prying your hands away from his waist, he manoeuvred around to regard you. His arms reached around to pull you into an embrace. You lingered long in his hold, breathing in the sweet floral scent on his clothes and feeling a sense of calm washing over your being as your wayward emotions progressively steadied.

Withdrawing just slightly from him, you finally looked upon his face only to find him returning your gaze. The expression that he wore was soft, almost endearing. You found yourself wholly mesmerised by the emerald of his eyes.

“Zayne…” His name rolled from your lips.

His palms cupped your face; thumbs stroking away the residual tears staining your cheeks. “I thought you’d come when the snow stopped.” He chuckled softly. “It is now midway through Spring.”

A smiled crept onto your features, but you made sure to let out an annoyed click of your tongue at his teasing and brought your fists to rest at your hips. “Don’t be mean!”

Now free from your hold, the master proceeded to retrieve the fallen scroll and made his way to the Sacred Tree, settling comfortably under it. With a tiny tilt of his head, he beckoned you to join him as he resumed reading the scroll. Accepting the invitation, you sat quietly next to him. Your mind wandered to how puzzling it was that you were missing him so much, when all of it was merely a bad dream.

You rested your head lightly on his shoulder, appreciating his presence now more than ever. Simply that he did not react adversely to you, comforted you.

“Zayne?” You called out quietly.

Not averting his attention from the scroll, he answered, “hmm?”

You hesitated a moment before speaking. “I had a really bad dream. I dreamt that you and Bai left me in the mountain while I was asleep. I was reminded what it felt like to be alone...”

Zayne remained silent.

“When I awoke, my power was gone. You had left me a snow-covered umbrella, but it broke in the fourth year. Thereafter, people around me began acting strangely as if…” Your voice trailed off as you painfully recollected the dream. “As if I was a monster— like in the past. Except that, I was nowhere near a safe place and I survived by running from town to town.”

“I pursued tavern-gossips of a travelling old mage and it led me finally to the temple of Si-Ming..” Lifting your head off his shoulder, you leaned in to peer at Zayne whose eyes remained affixed on the scroll, but his gaze appeared distant.

“In the dark of the night on the tenth calendar year, I thought I saw you, or an apparition of you.” You braced yourself as the dream grew darker. “I recall feeling happy believing that I had finally found you after so many years, but when I called your name, you attacked me instead. Without my power, I couldn’t defend myself.”

Your fingers fidgeted with the tassel of his woven wrist bracelet, the same one you had chosen for him at the village during the day of the Nuoji— the Spring Sacrificial Ceremony.

“The last thing I remember was the cold ice creeping up from my feet, swallowing me whole. I was certain I was going to die by your hands…”

Allowing yourself engage in the emotions that you felt, you said half-teasingly, “And to think that all those years, only thoughts of you consumed me! It was those thoughts alone that kept me going. I had even bought you a pouch of those forever blooming flowers, called Jasmines, which I knew you’d love in case I found you at the temple.”

Zayne continued to keep mum as he watched your fingers twine and untwine his bracelet. You had expected him to at least smirk at your last line and deny any involvement since it was only a dream, but he only remained quiet with eyebrows furrowed.

You caught the momentary flitting of his gaze to the tiny white and green pouch sitting on the table. A feeling of déjà vu washed over you as a memory of a merchant placing a similar coloured pouch in your palms replayed itself. Your mind was reeling. You saw another vision of the pouch falling onto the temple’s cobblestones when you had dodged an attack by the Zayne in your dreams.

It was then that realisation dawned on you and a heavy weight pulled on your heart.

“Zayne.. Please, tell me that it was all a bad dream.” Your voice left you more brokenly than you expected.

He sighed, “I cannot,” as he took the pouch and poured its contents onto his open hand. Little white flowers coated in ice glistened under the sunlight, refracting a myriad of colours around you. He had cryonically preserved them to last forever for reasons that were best known only to himself. However, the beauty of the flowers was lost in that moment as your mind struggled to cope with the disbelief, waiting for him to explain.

“I did what I must to protect you.” He was always one of few words and this time was no different. Zayne returned the jasmines into the pouch and set it back on the table preciously.

Your gaze travelled from the pouch to stare blankly at the grass and your fingers grasp tightly onto the hem of your skirt, afraid to hear the answer to your next question. “…How long has it been, Zayne?”

“A century.” Nonchalantly, he leaned forward to lift the clay teapot. The fragrant notes of the pu’er cha permeated the air as tea streamed into the teacup.

“I’ve been asleep for a hundred years?!” You exclaimed in shock, placing your palms on the ground before you and leaning in to check his expression to ascertain if he was joking.

The master merely shrugged, while sipping from the earthen teacup. “Well, you did sleep for longer than I had anticipated. It is midway through Spring.”

Your mouth was agape. A joke at this time did not feel appropriate. You rolled your eyes at his bone dry humour and puffed out your cheeks in a pout.

With a chuckle, he returned the tiny teacup to the table and then, reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, while wearing an expression that was gentle and kind. It was impossible to be angry with Zayne.

You scooted to sit in the space between his legs. His green eyes followed your every movement. “Zayne..” you returned his gaze and gingerly, placed a palm on his cheek. With utmost seriousness, you revealed all that you were keeping in your heart, “please, don’t ever leave me again. At least, not for my sake, but only for your own, if you must.”

A gentle smile graced the lips of the Master of Fate as he grabbed you into an embrace. His chin rested atop your hair as his voice resounded clearly inside your mind, “Then I will never leave you. Not even if fate wills it.”

====================================

Your fingertips traced over the finely woven material of his robe as you basked in his embrace, resting your head against his broad chest. His heart was resonating a steady and consistent beat in your ear. The serenity of his presence and that of the Sacred Tree made all of this feel so surreal that you hoped that you were not actually dreaming. A hundred years was way more than enough.

Zayne felt the slight change in your aura when doubt started to fill you and he released you from his embrace to gaze upon you.

He was extraordinarily handsome, even more so when he wore this kind expression. It was hard to not be completely mesmerised by him. Your focus trailed from his eyes to his lips which was a mere distance away such that his gentle breaths tickled your nose. A whisper of his name glided from your lips as your fingers grasped onto the material of his cloak. You yearned to close the gap and you wondered if he felt the same since he did not seek to put distance between your bodies. You pressed your palm to gently cup the side of his jaw and your lashes hooded your eyes. The tip of your nose brushed against his, hoping that this deity would oblige and grant your wish.

His familiar floral scent wafted into your nose with the breeze. It was almost as if time had stopped around the both of you. Then, you thought your heart had ceased when his eyelids lowered and his lips pressed lightly onto yours. You wound your arms round his neck and your chest pressed flushed against his unyielding one. The kisses grew hungrier with each moment that passed, both of you revelling in the newness of your shared feelings.

So consumed you were with his decadent blessings that you next found yourself being laid gently onto the grass. He barely broke away from your lips as he did. His long ponytail fell over his shoulders and onto the side of you. His robe cascaded on both sides of you, almost hiding you within it.

Unlike his icy demeanour, his body, which pressed against yours was warm like the gentle sunlight, melting away your worries. His kisses were fervent and needy, wanting nothing more than to taste every inch of you. You moaned into his mouth, begging him to bestow you with more of him. Your fingers tangled themselves in his silky long hair. Your entirety ached for him especially when a pressure came into contact with your secret place. The evident bulge at his crotch rolled against your burning center, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine which caused your body to arch gracefully into his.

Zayne hissed at the buck of your hips, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut. He was such a gorgeous man. He groaned almost ferally as he regained himself, green eyes now tinted a dark shade of desire, until a sudden look of realisation gripped him and he attempted to recoil.

“Don’t..” you held on. Thumb caressing his well-defined cheekbone. “Don’t stop.”

A pink hue glowed across his cheeks to his ears. “Is this okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

The nuance in his words made your stomach coil and your femininity pool in anticipation. “You won’t.” You leaned up to take his lips again, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, guiding him back to you.

He took you desperately. Crashing his lips into yours, he slipped his tongue past your teeth to meet yours in a passionate dance. His gloved fingers caressed tiny circles on your neck. Your kisses continued growing more heated and the groans from the both of you reverberated in the surroundings. You fumbled clumsily at the waistband of his pants from your position, that is, underneath him. It was clear what you wanted, needed. Zayne revelled in observing you attempt to undress his lower half, thoughtfully raising his body just slightly to give your hands space to work.

Finally managing to free his aching manhood from the confines of his pants, your heart momentarily faltered. Zayne’s earlier cause for concern was legitimate. He was after all, magnificently yet frighteningly well-endowed.

He was pleased with your apprehension and rewarded you by angling down to kiss you. You felt his heated, engorged tip graze against your folds, moving ever so slightly in time with his kisses, sliding back and forth only at the outskirts, and coating himself slick in the process. The deliberate loitering at your entrance and the sensual motions against your swollen peak was torturously maddening. You cried into his lips from the sensitivity; your hooded eyes pleading for more. With an inhale, he slid his tongue into your mouth and eased his tip into you inch by inch as your walls fought to snuffle out the intruding thickness.

Your body worked on overdrive just trying to accommodate his endowment. His girth so thick that it filled every inch of you. You cried out to him, fingers desperately gripping onto his biceps for dear life. Your constraints clinged onto every part of him, successfully ripping a groan from his throat when he finally buried all of himself deep inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, guiding him impossibly deeper into your depths as your eyelids grew far too heavy for you to keep them opened. His elbows rested on the grass at either side of your shoulder as he set a slow and steady rhythm.

His face was buried in the crux of your neck, lips hovering at your throat, every one of his exhalations burned against your skin. He then closed his mouth over your hastening pulse, causing your insides to clamp hard and elicited from you a whimper which you failed to contain.

“Am I hurting you?” His voice was evidently unsteady as he battled against his desire to ravage you without care.

You shook your head, looked into his eyes, and said, “no, I want to experience everything with you.. and about you..”

Zayne throbbed within you at your words, and released a growl into your nape as his hips surged forward in an uncontrolled thrust. You gasped beneath him. Fingers grasping onto his garment with one hand and the other pressing its palm to the back of his head, the metal hair ornament underneath cold against your touch.

Your body rocked in sync with his now surging tempo. His corybantic pants at the side of your ear was telling of how close he was to relenting to his gratification. His length plowed with utmost precision into you, extending deeper and hitting harder, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut from pleasurable pain. The curve of his shaft so perfect that each stroke into you rubbed against the one tender spot that made the blood rush to your head. A burning coil in your insides already accumulating dangerously. It took all of you to keep your mind from reeling.

“Zayne, I’m close.” You rasped between breaths, the glorious sensations making it difficult to think of anything else but the impending rapture.

“So am I.” His words faltered as he slipped his arms between your back and the ground to scoop you up to straddle him, your thighs above his. The deepened contact of his manhood against your cervix was sending mind-blowing jolts with each thrust. Your back arched onerously as he brought you closer and closer. You were losing control of your own body, your insides clamping down erratically as you neared your release.

He groaned at the tightening of your walls around his shaft. His hips bucking upwards to plunge himself into you with urgency while burying his flushed face in your nape to muffle his delicious moans.

The tremendous pleasure he was building inside you was threatening to burst forth at any given moment. Every stoke drove you closer and closer to the edge. His name rolled repeatedly from your lips; one more urgent and pleading than the last, as you could no longer form coherent thought. All that was important and needed now, is him and only all of him.

Then, a blinding burst of white light flashed behind your eyelids and pleasure overtook you, completely invading your senses. Your fingers gripped desperately onto anything it could hold onto. Your body arched involuntarily into him, trembling with each jolt of euphoria.

Zayne gasped as your release overpowered your control of your movements, your walls pulsating fiercely against his length. A wave of tingling pleasure rippled under his skin as he struggled to withstand the overwhelming sensations in futility. As a last spurt, he bucked upwards unbridled and unrestrained, allowing himself to finally succumb to his climax with a strangled grunt. He shut his eyes tight and emptied rope after rope into your vacant space.

Shuddering as he came down from his high, he collapsed, laying his ear on your heaving chest. Both your breathing laboured and uneven.

“Are you alright?” He asked shakily, gathering enough strength to gaze into your eyes.

“Mm.” you nodded, giving him a faint smile. Your fingers brushed the misplaced strands of his black hair back to where they belonged. “I love you, Zayne.”

His jade orbs sparkled in the light as he chuckled softly. “Is that so?” Pressing his lips to your forehead, he whispered, “I’ve loved you before I met you. Hold me and never let go.”

[adannamdi]

INCORPORATING IGBO CULTURE INTO MY NOVEL

Bringing Authenticity to My Story Through Language, Traditions, and Daily Life

As I continue researching and expanding my knowledge on this topic, I’ve realized that incorporating culture into a story isn’t just about adding traditions—it’s about immersing readers in a living, breathing world. Whether you’re writing a novel, a graphic novel, or any other form of storytelling, cultural elements can add depth and authenticity.

Modes of Communication and Transportation

The primary mode of transportation in traditional Igbo society was walking, while communication relied heavily on word of mouth. In my video, I gave an example from my story where an individual is tasked with spreading announcements within the community.

You might wonder if horses or donkeys were used, but in reality, they weren’t common in Igbo land. Even today, horses are a rare sight in Eastern Nigeria. Instead, the animals most commonly seen are goats, cattle, and poultry.

Traditional Housing and Cutlery

Traditional Igbo houses were built using mud, with bamboo structures as support. However, market spaces and shops were less developed, often featuring bamboo frames and mats used to divide sections.

Another key cultural element I incorporated into my novel is Nsibidi symbols. These symbols were historically used in communication and could often be found on walls, gates, or even attire like the Ukara cloth.

When it comes to traditional Igbo cooking, firewood was the main fuel source, and clay pots were used for cooking, storing food, and fetching water.

Calabash vs. Clay Bowls

At first, I found it difficult to differentiate between calabashes and clay bowls. Here’s a simple breakdown:

Clay bowls: Used for cooking, storing food, and ritual practices.

Calabashes: Made from dried gourds, used as dishes, bottles, cups, and cooking spoons—but not for direct cooking over fire.

Using Igbo Language in My Novel

One of my favorite aspects of world-building has been incorporating Igbo language into my story. Here are some of the names and words I’ve included:

Character Names:

Ijeoma Maduka – The main character

Obinna Chetachukwu

Amobi Nwakaego

Nduka Jidenna

Dike Azubuike

Deberechi Obiora

Igbo Words & Their Meanings:

Anwụansi ojii – Black magic

Eze Ọjọọ – Dark Lord

Ebe izu ike – Resting place / grave

Nkwu elu – Palm wine

Enyi m – My friend

Ike mana – Strength

Dibia – Physician / doctor

I have also divided the use of Igbo language in my novel:

The gods, goddesses, and priests/priestesses speak Igbo fluently.

Common people speak it incompletely but use key phrases for rituals, greetings, and traditional contexts.

This distinction adds a mystical quality to the language and makes it feel like a sacred part of the culture.

What’s Next?

In my next video, I’ll discuss more aspects of traditional Igbo life, including food, daily rituals, and beliefs.

Have you ever incorporated elements of your culture into a story? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

New World (10)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: embarrassment

Word Count: I deleted Hinge. Turns out I am too lazy to talk to boys and set up a date to hang out with them. Guess I'll be single for a good time. Also I have some unknown allergy that won't stop making me cough. Fanfic Gods! If you can see this, make this go away! We need to complete so many works!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Are you still mad about failing to complete your mission?" The children play in the temple grounds, cackling under the morning sun with clear skies and a day that feels lighter than usual. It feels so mostly because their parents are not after them, hissing them back inside their homes. Instead, the men are out gathered by the local tavern, drinking their homemade wine, while the women are collected under the community tree playing cards while smoking pipes. The bamboo village feels like a welcoming place today. Fukaboshi sits on the top of the stairs which is the entrance to the sacred ground. He is looking at Toge, who sits next to him, lost in some thought while he continuously flips a coin in between his fingers. Fukaboshi is patient, looking at his student with nothing but adoration. Toge finally tsks, throwing his coin down the edge of the hillside. "It's not your fault, Toge." Toge closes his eyes with an internal wince. "Tell that to my conscience," he grumbles before getting up and walking down the hill towards the village. Fukaboshi sighs, lowering his head, knowing his internal dialogue is no different than his student's. A crow sits atop a nearby tree, watching the events unfold before taking flight towards the next hill, gliding down the roof of one of the cottages where the Konoha citizens stayed the night. With one smooth transformation, the little creature morphs into a human, entering the room through a window.

The room, unlike last night, is empty. The bed, where Itachi had left you last night, has been made, the duvet neatly folded and placed at the end of the bed, the pillow fluffed up and the sheet crinkle-free. Itachi stands there for a long minute, revisiting the chapters he memorised last night, all of them comprising of every tiny feature of your face. But as much as he flutters through the pages in his mind, the images do not seem enough.  He walks out of the room and through the hall towards the other rooms; only to be met by Nami and Naruto midway. Both are carrying their bags, ready to set out. While Nami is nibbling on a tiny piece of sugarcane, Naruto has his face stuffed. “Where’s Y/N?” Naruto tries talking through his full mouth but Nami shuts him up with a smack of her hand to his stomach. “She’s already left. With Kakashi.” No hint of emotion passes through her features. But her brows morph into confusion when she witnesses Itachi go blank. No emotions surface behind those dark eyes. Just a neutral blink before his head finally gives in and does a 45-degree tilt, akin to a puppy wondering about this new situation. “I didn’t see them-“ Nami takes in a lungful. “Kakashi took her out of the village under the radar. She…did not want any more attention. They will reach the inn in about two hours. We are travelling with you so you better keep us safe, Uchicha-san. That’s a threat.” Nami nods and signals Naruto to walk out with her. Itachi does not follow them. Instead, he stands looking into infinity with brows that are too uncomfortable to be furrowed for such a long time. Why did she travel back with Kakashi, Itachi’s brain is already calculating multiple scenarios to justify such an act where his chest does not squeeze with such pain. Why am I not travelling back with her? A crow caws somewhere outside to fill in the silence of this cosy guest house that is suddenly empty.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A day passes. Then two. Then three. Everyone has returned home. Itachi has joined Kakashi at the Hokage’s office to submit the mission report and enlighten her about their sensitive information being leaked by opponent villages. She is not here, he finds his internal voice declaring the fact out loud to this existence. “Itachi, of course, was quick to respond to any threats,” Kakashi’s voice breaks his subconscious monologue of reasoning your absence; never wondering why Nami and Naruto were not there. Tsunade hums. “We need to do something about the rock village before they get on my nerves," the Hokage fumes slowly behind her desk. "The Anbu are already on it." "And who else do you think knows about our-" Tsunade inhales, rolls her eyes a little and waves her red nails generically in the air- "empath, for the lack of a better word." "The information was sold to five villages-" Itachi does not wait for a pause- "Mist, Sand, Bamboo, Wood and Seashell." "Seashell doesn't sound-" Tsunade pauses her quip with Kakashi's little wave of hand. "They feed their enemies to eight-foot giant crabs." She does not say it but her face tells she sounds impressed. "I thought Sand Village was a friend." "They are," Itachi adds, "Gara was the one who forewarned us about the leak." The colours of realisation bring a positive glow to the Hokage's face. "That's why you two knew what was going on this entire time. I like that kid." She taps her nails on the table in a rhythmic tone. "Are the other villages a threat?" "We have prepared infiltration teams to visit these villages and bring us any intel we can get that might pose a threat." Kakashi leans on the window sill with his arms crossed over his chest. "Tell them to execute the infiltration at the earliest." Kakashi looks up at the Hokage, blinking for a second. "Oh, they are already out. In about three hours, they'll be entering the respective villages." Tsunade narrows her eyes at the former Anbu. "I knew I would get your permission for the mission," Kakashi shrugs. Itachi clears his throat to bring attention to him before Tsunade can eat Kakashi's ears out. "If that's all..." Without another word, Itachi opens the window and disappears into thin air. "What is wrong with him?" the Hokage points at the open window with a mix of offence and worry. Kakashi throws his head back in defeat, his palms trying to soothe the pain caused by the burden of carrying the team on his shoulders for the last few days. "Ugh. Let's discuss this after I've had a nap. And we will need at least three bottles of sake." Tsunade guffaws, slapping the table with excitement. "Meet me at Ichigo's restaurant at eight," she declares before swivelling her chair towards the window. Within a second, her excitement morphs into a sour affair. "And don't you two dare use my window as a gateway after this! You delinquent little shits!"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Itachi's crows scour the Konoha skies looking into every street, under every tree, all koi ponds, and riverside. It is one of the crows soaring over the local marketplace that signals the former Akatsuki member before disappearing. And Itachi does not waste time, walking faster than usual in that direction. His body automatically halts when he sees you in the crowd. You are sitting on the stairs of the open shops where different types of nuts delivered from outside the village are being sold. Your arms are wrapped around a black cat with the most beautiful fur. Children are gathered around you in awe of the little furry creature; their curious minds asking you all sorts of questions. Itachi's permanence comes to a standstill. All his senses seem to revolve around you. His eyes can see the  y/e/c glow of your iris, his nose can smell the coconut oil rubbed on your skin. His ears can hear the croak in your voice that still heals from the adventure. He wants to stay still and bask in your presence but this uneasy feeling in his heart wants him to step towards you. Like the pull of a string, your head instinctively rises in the direction Itachi stands. You watch him inhale the guilt of being found out- of brazenly watching you from a distance. And just as he sees you...he can see you. A flash passes inside his mind for barely a second. Your shoulders are bare, your face marred with dirt, your hair a mess. Your eyes are red with tears. And just as it comes, the fash vanishes. And with it, you vanish too. The black cat with the beautiful fur is left on the steps for the children as you are nowhere to be seen.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

More days pass when you ‘miss’ each other; on the streets, at the Hokage’s office, in the village mart, and once right outside the Uchiha home. Itachi knows something is out of the ordinary. But not only with you.  He has not been feeling his usual self. His heightened senses seem to go into overdrive and shut down quicker than they should. His fast brain dissociates every ten minutes. His body is restless, unable to find peace at night, forget about getting an ounce of sleep. He sulks on the village rooftops unable to make sense of the hyperactivity that is frying his brain before he finds himself in the gym behind the administrative building with limited access. Like any other night, he walks into the gym from the backdoor at two in the dead of the night, finding two other men walking out of the locker room to begin their workout. “Who is that?” He hears one of them whisper, instinctively rolling his eyes internally and turning around to let the fresh Anbu meat have a good look at the infamous Itachi Uchiha. Much to his surprise, they are not looking at him. Instead, their attention is taken by another presence in the gym. Itachi changes into his workout clothes- a black t-shirt with grey joggers- and walks out of the locker room. From how the two men have their eyes away from their equipment, he can calculate it is someone new and quite possibly a woman. Turning the corner, his eyes involuntarily fall on the figure before returning to the treadmill- his original destination. It takes him a fraction of a second to register the figure doing crunches, using the rods holding the dumbbells as a pivot for her feet.

It’s the woman. Itachi has a clear view of you from his treadmill- with your back to him. You, on the other hand, are unaware of him. Your face is flushed, and sweat runs down your neck and back. All the rebellious strands of your hair mark the sides of your face and neck. The sweat stains on your oversized t-shirt and gym shorts show how long you have been working out. You finally stop and take a breather. He increases the speed of his treadmill. Itachi can see the Anbu boys tapping each other to bring their attention in your direction. You use the hem of your shirt to wipe the sweat from your face, exposing your abdomen. Itachi feels guilty for letting his eyes linger for a second longer at the lines of abs forming on your front. Yet a part of him fumes when he can hear the boys snicker at an inside joke before walking in your direction. The blonde one takes the lead. "Konnichiwa! My friend and I were wondering if you would like to work out with us." You bow a little, sending a little twist inside Itachi's gut. "Thank you for the offer. I am good." But the boys are quick to pester you again. "We think you are really beautiful and we would like to take you out for a meal after the workout." You ignore them and walk towards the bench. Even when you try to ignore it, you can hear them giggle and snicker behind your back. Tune them out, your inner voice tells you. Tune them out, tune them out tune them o- Your focus has been completely devoured by the boys who have turned a blind eye to respecting your personal space; and in doing so, you have picked up a ten-kilo dumbbell for your workout. Lying down on your back, you stretch your arms over your head to pick the dumbbell to start your set.

"How about we help-" Fuck! I should have brought my earphones!!! You have put all the focus inside your arms to raise that damn weight and take it over your head- and while doing so, you realise you can no longer hear the snickers of the boys. Your arms do pick the weight, but your brain gives the warning signal a bit late that the weight is beyond your muscles' threshold. A small cry for help comes out of your lungs but never makes it to the finale. you are half scared that the dumbbell might fall on the ground with a resounding boom. But that never happens. Instead, you feel the heaviness being taken away from your palms by a shadow behind your head. You raise your head back to find the dumbbell resting in the veiny hands of the man you have been avoiding this whole time. Itachi Uchiha. He is holding that dumbbell as if it weighs nothing. His shirt is covered in sweat and the strands of his hair not in the ponytail are out having the gall to stick to his exposed neck. His eyes are stuck on you, watching you with confusion and...was that concern? Don't be fooled. It might be murderous brooding too. We don't have enough experience to really tell, do we? you inner voice was thundering all over the metaphoric walls. Your heart rate is going up, more than it already has from the exercises. You take the support of your arm to get up, quickly reverting your gaze. But the screaming pain inside your arm brings out a wince from you instead. "Don't move," he commands in the Uchiha voice you have grown familiar with, "you have sprained your muscle." You do not dare to look him in the eye. "I'll spray some-" The former assassin, it seems, never waits for your words. Before you have finished your sentence, the gym's first aid box is seen being put down next to you on the bench. You can feel your lungs take a justified pause as Itachi gets down on his knee in front of you, making himself busy with the contents of the box. "I'll do it-" you give out a little squeak but the man ignores it, shaking the spray bottle in his hand. Without hesitating, he opens his free hand. "Arm." You, on the other hand, want to shrink and disappear into the bench, never to be seen again. "Y/N," he calls you out from whatever hell you are making in your mind for yourself. It bothers you even more that his voice is as sweet as it has been whenever you have interacted with him before. "Give me your arm." You do not want to move. Instead, you have started singing Naruto's favourite ramen song inside your head. Sparks fly inside your body when you feel the touch of Itachi's fingers trying to find their way under yours. And they do- having invaded the space between your fingers and the coarse leather of the bench. His usually pale fingers are red- mostly from the workout- and they are cautiously making their way to your wrist, rotating it to expose the other side upwards.

"Does it hurt?" Your gaze is fixated on his arms. The veins are popping under that pale, mole-kissed skin. There is a certain edge of satisfaction trailing the veins from his wrist up the bicep. People should be paying to see this, your inner voice sighs, never once averting her gaze from the sculpted beauty. You have reached the hem of Itachi's sleeves when you realise he has asked you a question. "Hm?" "I guess not." Itachi's face is flushed. How hard has he been working out? For a second, you think you see a smirk build upon his lips. But the moment you blink, it is gone; making you ponder if you were seeing things. Itachi's fingers go further up, resting right in the middle of your lower arm. His thumb puts a little pressure on the muscle underneath. There is a slight hint of pain. He can tell the way your brows furrow quickly and let go of the stress when he lifts his thumb from your skin. Itachi wonders how your skin has the right amount of suppleness and smoothness. And then he wonders why he is wondering about your skin. His fingers move further up. One hand lets your upper arm rest in itself. The other hand takes the liberty to feel the muscle. And that is when you let out a pain-ridden shriek before clasping your mouth. "It hurts," your broken voice reassures him. Itachi grounds your upper arm within his hold. You can feel his hand's intention of not letting go. "Face the other way," he instructs. You have heard him but the words have not yet registered in your head. And Itachi can tell from the blank look your eyes give him. Your eyes. The former assassin cannot get used to these eyes that look at him with zero micron of hesitation; no ounce of fear or mistrust. Zero thoughts behind those pupils and the intention to follow whatever he will say. A part of him wonders if your eyes do this for anyone else. And then that part makes his chest squeeze with mild annoyance. He raises his free hand and lets his fingers rest on your jaw, pushing your face in the direction away from your arm. The gesture surprises you, making your stomach do a summersault internally. You can hear the clicking of the shaking pain relief bottle before feeling the cooling spray over your skin. The affected part is then meticulously covered with a crepe bandage. "Do not use this arm for at least forty-eight hours if you cannot get an appointment with Sakura before that," Itachi clears, checking the bandage one last time.

"Thanks," you admit, about to get up. "It's natural," Itachi declares softly, not moving. Confused, you look down at your arm to wonder what is natural about it. "To have...thoughts that seem dark. And...filled with lust." Itachi finally looks at you and you can feel a cold wave pass down your spine, reverberating through every cell in its way. "It's simple biology," he continues, averting his gaze. "The only difference was that someone in your vicinity had the potential to see your thoughts. There is nothing to be embarrassed about." Oh, are you sure?!! Your inner voice shouts before pointing out at your racing heartbeat and flushed skin. Your breaths are starting to feel shallow. Itachi can sense the uneasiness. You get up with a jolt. "I should go." Even the whispered words of you come out shaking. "You can look inside my mind," Itachi announces before you can step away from him, "to even out the..." He does not finish the sentence. Look inside the mind of Itachi Uchiha. How many people have lost their lives to get the answer to this question? And here he was, offering it to you on a silver platter. "I should-" you bump into the bench behind you with the step you take back, scaring yourself for a second- "go." You dash out the door, leaving the man still on his knees. He sits there, experiencing you leaving the same redolence that he smelled off you in that cottage in the bamboo village. A smile builds up on his lips and no matter what he does, he cannot seem to make it stop.