#and in all my friendships if i was replaced with any other generic person with social anxiety it'd be like nothing fucking changed !

[angeltism]

out of the shower , feeling slightly less shit about myself (and way less like saying uncalled for immature mean things) however still dealing with the realization that I am possibly the most replaceable person in the world

[spideyanakin]

Omg requests for fiyero!

How about an angsty childhood best friends to strangers to lovers? Maybe growing up together, parting ways and then reuniting at shiz?

Thank you!

purple butterflies (fiyero. t)

synopsis ➾ gn! reader, purple butterflies and strawberry tarts; the memories of him who turned bittersweet with growing up. He replaced them with lovers and careless days. You replaced the memories with studying and focusing on your future, never thinking your new worlds would ever collide. [w.c 4k]

warnings ➾ reader is heartbroken and sassy, angst, fiyero being cute, me being shit at science and inventing my own rules bc let's face it this takes place in a magic land

authors note - omg stop I ADORE this request, I've had so much fun writing this <3 hope you like it. also i hope i didn't miss any accidental pronouns, i wanted to make this gn, lmk if i did!.

fiyero masterlist

main masterlist

and strawberry tarts (p.2)

Purple butterflies and strawberry tarts. If you were careful you could still taste the faint sourness of the fresh strawberries from the grounds of Kiamo Ko. The freshly made dough and the sugar sprinkled on top, caramelised just enough to balance it with soft bitterness.

But now it seemed the bitterness conquered it all. Turned the strawberries tasteless, the pie crust burnt to an overbearing crisp and the sugar overcooked, with it chased away the butterflies and turned the grass greener on the other side.

Kiamo Ko had been left empty by the prince a long time ago. When his turbulent personality started bubbling up to the surface, the king and queen started to grasp every straw they possibly could, clinging for any solution to mend their son’s behavior.

When the list of tutors fell short, by the twentieth one who ran out of the castle with freshly broken glasses and a dirt stained shirt, howling scandal as he pushed himself through the doors—it had been a final decision. Fiyero was to be sent to boarding school.

With him gone, emptiness was brought to Kiamo Ko, and his family decided to move away. To another castle, another place that would better suit their new needs.

Your family was thanked for their service. Your father retired from his duties in the royal guard, and stayed behind to tend your farm. Only your eldest brother had accompanied the royals in their new life.

It's not like you wanted to become strangers. You tried to grasp at your friendship. Sending him letter after letter. But when the letters went unanswered, you were left with a universe of unanswered feelings. Unanswered questions that would forever cloud your heart.

With that, the prince became a distant memory. Chasing fluorescent purple butterflies in the gardens of Kiamo Ko at night and eating his mother's strawberry tarts became faded dreams.

Your only source of information became gossips and your brother's occasional letter, reporting on Fiyero's short stays at the new castle.

You heard he had asked about you, once, maybe twice. But as years passed, and his interests fully shifted, so did yours.

~

Your vile was running out of ink. Your fingers were stained blue, from your palm to the very tips of your fingers--stains you would struggle removing.

Your scribbles were getting rougher. You needed to finish this, you wanted to finish this before the clock struck three. You were getting a headache, your blueish hand was cramping, and you were starting to stain the parchment.

But people were squeaking, whispering, and where the library once felt quiet and peaceful it now felt like a coffee shop on saturday afternoons, filled to the brim with gossipers.

You continued scribbling. Something about Munchkinland being saved from rebels. A leader, a general was involved in the lot, you couldn't remember his name, you wanted to remember his name. So you continued to fill the paper with nonsense until his name would come to your mind.

But you were running out of ink. The loops felt lighter, were lighter, you wouldn't have enough to finish. So you pressed th quill further on the page. You continued to write, a sentence than another, a word than another.

Snap.

Fuck. Your feather snapped in half.

"Dammit."

"You alright?" Elphaba broke your turbulent mind, glancing towards you.

That's when she noticed; the broken quill, the stained hands, the essay dirtied in front of you.

"Fine," you mumbled, throwing the quill aside. "I thought I could finish this today."

"It's not due til next week, you'll be fine."

"Hm," you wanted to rub your forehead, but quickly realised it wouldn't be a good idea.

Elphaba saw it, she fished for her handkerchief in her pocket and handed it to you.

You thanked her, cursing again when you realised the extent of the mess on your fingers.

"What's going on?" She asked when another sigh escaped your lips.

"Nothing," you mumbled. "I have a headache, I'm hungry, tired-"

"You're working too much."

"I need to pass this class. Since Mr. Dillamond left-"

"I know. We're all in the same situation here, don't worry about it."

"Right..." You continued wiping your fingers. She was right. The whole class had been going on a down spree since the new teacher arrived. He was harsh, focused on shallow things from history you shouldn't be studying. Where once it was about analyzing the impact history had on the lands of today, his class became about glorifying the heroes still alive and spreading propaganda.

It didn't help that the whole school seemed to be brewing with anticipation. Your gaze caught once again for the fourth time that day; three students whispering and giggling to each other about something. They were squeaking and blushing.

"What is going on?" You huffed, twisting the handkerchief.

"A prince arrived at school or something."

"Prince?" You raised an eyebrow. You wondered who it could possibly be. Most princes of Oz had already graduated university, and as far as you knew, Fiyero was on the other side of Oz studying at Killimand.

"Oh Oz," you cursed, one of your bracellets had been contaminated by the ink. You wanted to cry, or maybe it was just the nerves from the day building up. This was your favorite. It had too many memories attached, memories you didn’t want to forget just yet.

"What happened?"

"Bracelet's stained," you tried to clean it but it kept falling from your grip.

"Here, let me help," she grabbed your wrist and the handkerchief.

Indeed the small butterfly wing pendant had been stained by blue.

"Here," she smiled, wiping it clean. "All good." She dropped your hand and placed the fabric back in her pocket. "It's pretty," she noticed as you checked it. "Anyone has the other half?"

"How do you know it has another half?"

"It's half a butterfly," she suggested and you smiled at the observation.

"It is. I don't think anyone has the other half," you replied with a tight smile. You knew the other half had existed, but whether or not it still did, or was still worn by its owner was another question. You started to fold your essay and clean your writing supplies. "So, this prince?"

"Oh, yeah, everyone is already swooning over him. Stumbled across him, he didn't seem like the brightest."

"Does he have a name?"

"It's that Winkie prince, Fiyero something-"

"Fiyero Tigelaar?" You gulped, and your face must have fallen because Elphaba scrunched her eyebrows.

"You know him?"

"N-no," you quickly shook your head, "just heard of him... Everyone has-" you breathed, why your hands were getting clammy?

"I'm going to go, I'll see you tomorrow," you collected the last of your stuff. Shoving your books and quill in your bag faster than you realised.

Elphaba looked so confused, you almost felt bad, almost wanted to turn around to apologize, but your mind was already on overdrive. Your chest was starting to uncontrollably heave--you needed to get out, quickly.

Fiyero was here? At Shiz?

If you thought you were having a bad day, you didn't think it could get any worse. The one person that you thought you would never see again was now roaming the very halls of your University. You'd probably share a class or two with him if you were truly that unlucky.

Oz, what did you do to deserve this?

Would he even remember you? Would he even realize the heartache he had caused you?

Would he remember what he had told you that night under the stars when it was official he would be leaving to boarding school? How he had held your hand, squeezed it so tight so you would remember his touch.

Would he even remember chasing purple butterflies for the last time together that night. How impatient he had been, how he scared them, making them flutter away, only for the small creatures to circle the both of you.

How the butterflies, the moonlight, and the silent trees were the only other witnesses to him kissing you.

Your first kiss.

His first kiss.

Though it would be his first kiss of many; a start to a life of accumulated lovers, you reminded yourself as you clenched your books a little tighter.

You had just been his first victim.

That night, under the stars of Winkie country as fluorescent purple butterflies swarmed around you, as his hand slithered around your waist, the other brushing the apple of your cheek in a sealing touch. That night he had sealed the fate of your heart with his lips.

Because the next morning he had left you and Kiamo Ko behind with no regrets, only preparing himself for his new life ahead.

"And so this is the library," Glinda's voice mumbled over your ears. You were too focused on your boiling thoughts to even register her, or to notice the figure trailing behind her.

You royally bumped into them, full strength as you attempted to dart out of the library.

Whoever he was; he was strong. Years of training behind him as you felt his arm wrap around your shoulder in attempt to cushion the crash.

"Wow hey there, watch out," his voice was soft, charming, familiar almost- "Ranger!?" He squeaked in delight. Your mind swirled, no one had called you that since-

Fiyero.

You opened your eyes to meet his.

Indeed you were face to face with him, his arms still wrapped around you.

He was older, but then so were you. He didn't change a bit though, still as handsome, maybe even more charming than before. You found yourself staring up at the same blue eyes, the same grin you remembered and loved.

Your heart looped in your chest, and that's when you knew you had to get out of here, quickly.

But as he looked at you his eyes sparkled, and the brightest smile you had ever seen him wear raised upon his features, somehow your feet were stuck in place.

"Oh Oz! How have you been?" Fiyero did not hesitate to cage you in his arms again, and suddenly you couldn't breathe.

His hug was perfect. Just like you remembered. As if the years had never passed and you still fitted against one another like two pieces of a puzzle.

Two wings of the same butterfly.

You felt incapable of reciprocating the hug. He didn't feel the same, yet he felt exactly like you remembered. He smelled the same, jasmin, fresh roses and leather, almost intoxicating as the memories came crashing through again.

You wanted to cry. Right there in the middle of the Shiz library, as his arms were wrapped around you; you wanted to cry.

Suddenly you craved Cruck, your rabbit stuffed animal that you left behind under the soft covers of your childhood room. You wanted to be tucked into your pastel sheets by your mother. You wanted to fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you remembered the day's adventure. That sleep would take you as you dreamt of the roses of Kiamo Ko; because you knew you would wake up just to run to them again the next morning.

Because you knew that after your mother attempted to have you eat breakfast, you would run back to the castle just to find Fiyero waiting for you up in the tree by the gates.

You almost melted into the hug. Almost.

Because after the jasmin, the roses and the leather there had been heartbreak. The lost letters, the unanswered calls. The empty promises.

"I'm alright," you attempted, still crushed in his grip.

"You two know each other?" Galinda squeaked behind her books. Eye brows scrunching, of course she would be the one showing him around.

"Yeah!" Fiyero bounced on his heels, loosening his grip on you.

He was gazing at you as if you were a wonder of the world and you did not like it one bit.

Hand still on your shoulder, people were starting to gather around, curiosity getting the best of them. After all, you had suddenly become a competition in the conquering of his heart.

But the more eyes were on you, the tenser you felt--and Fiyero did not seem to care or even notice.

"Yeah! Her brother works for the royal guard, we grew up together! Oz! How have you been?" He repeated, and you blinked--was he truly this happy to see you?

You wanted to disappear into the books, melt into the shelves, and be one with the stories.

"I've been fine," it was colder, drier than you wished. You didn't want to speak to him that way, but you couldn't help yourself. "I have to go Fiyero."

He almost seemed disappointed. You almost felt bad.

"See you around?"

You didn't reply.

You left without even glancing back to him.

~

The clock was ticking painfully slow, and you watched as Mr. Willows grabbed yet again another bicker from the shelves by his side.

He placed it on his desk and stepped towards the small glass greenhouse. Five small bright neon blue mushrooms stood proudly atop a mound of dirt.

He delicately removed the glass top of the greenhouse and the mushrooms suddenly lost all their fluorescence, turning grey white. You carefully watched as he plucked one right out and dropped it into the bicker.

As he placed the glass jar back on top and the mushroom's colors shone brightly again, he grumbled in his low voice, "Now, do you know what causes their fluoresces?" He turned his glass-hidden eyes towards the twenty-six heads in front of him.

No answers.

You hesitated, but giggles stopped you. Giggles coming from the back left of the classroom, not far from the door.

In the quiet of the room, all eyes turned to them. Of course, they had bloomed from Fiyero's chest, and you eyed as he leaned back in his chair smirking, with a blushing Galinda by his side.

"Is there something funny Mr. Tigelaar?"

Fiyero seemed to be taken aback, but he brushed it off just as quickly, "no, please continue with what you were saying."

"Can you answer the question for me?"

He blinked.

"Could you repeat the question?"

"What causes the fluoresce of those mushrooms?"

"The fact that they're magic?" Fiyero poorly offered, and you were sure it had caused a laugh from a red-headed girl sitting across you.

Mr. Willows sighed, placing his glasses further up his nose.

"Anyone else?"

"It's caused by the chemical reaction of their molecules when it's exposed to dark lights. The moon is enough to light them in nature, but during the day, to see it you'd have to place it in special glass, like the one you have, Sir."

"Very good. At least someone is paying attention."

You missed the grin Fiyero was throwing you.

~

"Hey, Ranger!" His voice caught in your ears, tangling like honey and seeping through every parts of you.

You were tempted to escape, but somehow he had melted your feet to the ground, and all you could do was wait for him to catch up, "still love being the smarter one I see?" He offered, leaning to you with a sly grin.

What game was he playing?

"Fiyero, it was a simple answer, you should have known that."

"Will you come to the Oz dust tonight?"

"No. I've got to study."

"C'mon! It will give us a chance to catch up!"

"No," your reply was stern, and you could almost catch a glimpse of disappointment across his features; same as this morning in the library.

"Do it for me, please?" he pouted, big blue eyes sparkling again--and suddenly you were back in the gardens of Kiamo Ko, with a pleading boy prince, begging that you join on his mischief.

"I'll think about it," you sighed, tightening your grip on your books as you started bouncing on your heels to leave. Oz, you'd have to work on the effects his charm had on you.

You were over him.

You had been over him for years, or so you thought.

"You better be there," he pointed out.

"I'll think about it," you repeated, giving him a short smile before finally disappearing into a corridor.

~

"So what was that about? Your dramatic, I don't know Fiyero, but I clearly do?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow, looking up from her book.

"It's nothing," you huffed, focusing on your history book. You turned around on your bed, your back towards Elphaba in a silent plea to stop the questions.

"I'm calling it bullshit."

"I'm allowed my secrets," you mumbled against your pillow.

"No," she grinned. "Not with the way he was staring at you."

"Same way he stares at everyone."

"Galinda will beg to differ. She's been pestering me with questions about you all day!"

You heard shuffling from behind you, and glanced from the corner of your eye to see Elphaba closing her book and marching the few steps towards you.

"Then let her think. It will do her some good to use that brain of hers," you turned your focus back on your textbook--eyes squinting as you turned the page; only to be met with Winkie Country in bold black letters, with a drawing of the plains and cities below it.

"Ugh," you harshly closed the book, slapping it across the bed.

"Will you tell me at least?" You barely noticed as she sat by the foot of your bed.

"There's nothing much to say," your eyes met hers. "We grew up together, then we lost contact."

"And nothing else happened?"

"No," you lied.

"I refuse to believe that."

"That's what you will have to do, sorry," you sighed and stared at your ceiling lamp, a pretty purple crystal flower blooming from the ceiling.

"Right..." She paused in thought, you were almost curious as to what she would say next. "Well I don't, and I'll keep pestering you about it."

"It's almost curfew, you need to get back to your dorm," you mumbled, sitting up and grabbing your hair brush from your bedside table.

"Stop changing the subject," she warned. "Galinda's probably there getting ready with her two shadows anyway."

"Tweedle dee and Tweedle dumb," you laughed to yourself, starting to detangle your hair. "Are you going to the Oz dust with them?"

"No. You?"

You shook your head no, snuggling deeper into the cushions of your bed.

"I heard Fiyero asked you to come," she teased.

"You heard nothing," you pointed to her with the tip of your hair brush. "Now get out before I throw that book in your face," you accentuated your words by pushing your textbook toward her with your toes.

"Fine," she chuckled. "I'm warning you, I'll get the answers out of you somehow," and with those words, she disappeared through the doors of your dorm, leaving you alone with the shadows of your thoughts.

Your eyes went back to the lamp on your ceiling before fluttering closed. You sighed through your nose, heart squeezing in your chest.

Pictures of a dancing boy in a pastel green suit flashed before your closed eyes before you could stop them. The polished marble floors of the great hall as music flowed. Your father in a uniform, adorned by medals; a change to his usual knight's armor you rarely saw him out of. Your mother in her most beautiful dress by his side.

Fiyero dragging you through the dancing bodies, causing havoc once again. The Queen scolding him later that evening.

You almost expected to open your eyes to the beautiful adorned ceiling of Kiamo Ko's great hall, but when you did, you weren't met with the familiar stained glass. You weren't met with the family portraits of generations of Tigelaars.

You were met with that damned purple ceiling lamp.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to go...

Maybe you could get some answers out of him?

Maybe you could finally get some closure.

But could you handle the hypocrisy? Could you handle seeing him dancing with Galinda, just for him to look at you with puppy dog eyes the second she was out of his sight?

~

Your outfit felt tight against your body. Tighter than it usually did. The purple mesh pooled around you perfectly as you walked, trailing behind you gracefully with each step. For a golden second, you felt like you belonged here, walking down the steps of the Oz dust.

The music was loud, echoing through the cave in its gripping melody. People were cheering, singing lyrics you did not know, and it suddenly felt as if you were drowning, maybe you were. Caged under the ocean in a bubble of music, sweat, and fairy dust.

That's when you spotted him. He was dancing with a boy you shared mathematics with. Jory, a tall handsome blonde that had most students swooning before Fiyero had stepped a foot at Shiz.

You noticed Galinda was nowhere to be found, nor was Elphaba.

You breathed.

You could do this.

If your biggest fear was Galinda's judgment, and she wasn't even there, then why was your heart beating out your chest the more your feet took you down the stone steps?

You twisted the fabric of your sleeves as you darted towards the bar. You smiled at the waiter before ordering your drink, your rings clinking with your coins as you placed them on the marble counter. to pay.

And suddenly he was there. Like a shadow he appeared, attracted to you like a moth to a flame.

"You came," there was a smile in his voice you couldn't deny. It made you at a loss for words, awkwardly swallowing as you figured out what you should say.

"Where's your date?" You finally spoke, keeping your gaze focused on your hands on the counter.

"Left with her roommate."

"Hm,"

"I'm glad you're here," his voice was soft over the music, yet you could still hear it just as clearly.

You didn't reply, simply smiled before turning your attention to the drink the waiter slid to you.

You took a sip, bathing in the silence between you.

Fiyero's silence was loud, so loud your ears were ringing.

Before you could even register, his hand reached to yours. Pinky finger searching your own on the polished counter. You watched, unable to let your attention fly from his hand. The moment felt painfully slow, and too fast all at once.

Suddenly you saw it, the pull of your butterfly pendent.

You noticed his only after, the golden bracelet amidst the myriad of others; leather cuffs, silver, and gold chains. But the one you had placed upon his wrists years ago was still there, and as his hand crept closer, the two pendants collided like they were meant to.

The magnets merged and the purple butterfly was whole again.

Two wings of the same butterfly.

You gazed up to see him, just to find his eyes already on yours.

Neither of you spoke, scared to break the silence.

Your vision was getting blurry, your breath was becoming chopped. Now you really felt like you were drowning.

Drowning in a myriad of purple butterflies.

You were back in that forest. His eyes were the ones of a small boy again, standing amidst the gardens of his home. The jasmin, the roses and the leather were engulfing you whole, filling your lungs to the brim.

"Dance with me."

"We shouldn't-"

"Please?"

[lunarsilver]

What awaits you in November? PAC

Hello, welcome to another monthly reading! This time a pretty chill one, with charms and shufflemancy. If you're feeling down, you may want to read it, because my charms are hyping up everyone here, I swear xD.

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

Pile 1

Charms: strength in the group, be brave!, and I love you for it!, seize the moment, new is exciting, I dreamed you!

Songs: “Loser, Baby” from Hazbin Hotel, “Human” by Rag’n’Bone Man, Le Bien qui fait mal from Mozart Opera Rock

There is this strong emphasis on acceptance of your limitations and finding some friendly souls (or maybe deepening the friendship with the people you’re already friends with). The encouragement to do what you want. Not everyone is right for you, and there always will be someone more talented/hardworking than you, but this November you should understand there are a lot of possibilities around you. Go out, have fun.

Pile 2

Charms: you are a master, seize the moment, call the team, just waiting for this, you can count on me, join the game!, you will succeed! :), party?

Songs: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane, The City’s Yours by Jamie Foxx and Quvenzhane Wallis, Rule #4 - Fish in a Birdcage by  Fish in a Birdcage

This pile is even more party-going and outgoing than the first one - or rather, the encouragement to go out with some people and try something new is here even more insistent. Doesn’t matter if “the game” is literally some kind of a game (I feel that some of you will go out with some people to a place with retro games or go bowling) or some project you’re thinking about, you’ll succeed. With the first and last song, I feel like one specific person will be pretty important this month. Or maybe two? For some reason, a grandma came to my mind (take her to the place which is dear to both of you), though a friend or partner are also very plausible.

Pile 3

Charms: success!, it will get better, a good plan is a must, let them say what they want, shall we make up something? (the charm is in my language and the sentence can also mean “let’s paint something” and “let's do something thoughtless but fun”), shall we stand together?, there is nothing like home, let's do something stupid

Songs: Time Machine by Ingrid Michaelson, Overdose by natori, Snowman by Sia

The way the first song has a verse “You slammed that door and left me standing all alone” and one of the charms says “shall we stand together?”??? It looks like there’s a period of healing after something or someone, some ex? Some toxic friend? Someone you (have) cared about and they hurt you, that’s for sure. It looks like someone else will come up in the picture at the right moment and encourage you to have some silly, almost childish fun with them. This troublemaker vibe is strong with them, but the other charms make me think they’re quite sweet. Like, "let's do some stupid shit to light up your mood".

[wing-ed-thing]

Foul Creature (Tobirama x Reader) Chapter X

Synopsis: The territory between the Uchiha and the Senju dwindles by the day. And in an era where social lines have been blurred, and new clan heads have been chosen, you're stuck between a scorned lover and a man who relentlessly pursues your hand in marriage. You don't have much time before you're forced to confront the sins of your past.

Word Count: 6.5k

Tags/Warnings: Warning for dark themes ahead, including tags for choking. Fem!Uchiha!Reader. Please consult AO3 for more specific warnings.

Chapter I Previous Chapter Part X (Current Chapter)

Notes: I'M FINALLY THOUGH EDITING IS IT REALLY MY FAULT I'M A FAILURE?????

The negotiations would last several weeks, and leadership from all allied clans would gather in one place with the intention to form a united village. Just prior to all the impending formal political talks, the Uchiha and the Senju shared a ceremonial banquet following Hashirama’s speech. The show of friendship between him and Madara was meant to act as the first step to unity, and for how tense you had expected it to be, the night went over fairly well.

Most people stuck to their own kind, and you could understand their hesitation to make casual conversation with the very people they had just been at generational odds with only a few days prior. Not to mention that Madara wasn’t exactly adept at acting friendly, which did little to help matters in the face of visibly petrified members of the Senju. You had discretely nudged Madara’s shoulder. He could have afforded to present himself far less intimidatingly.

But it seemed that Hashirama’s zealous personality could break through even the coldest of attitudes, and you choked it up to his extroverted personality that put people at better ease.

You hardly left Madara’s side throughout the duration of the night, even as he made extensive chatter with Hashirama: all shop talk. For bitter, lifetime rivals, you couldn’t help but consider that they got along rather famously. And for the dichotomy in their personalities, Madara’s imposing gravity and Hashirama’s endless electricity balanced out surprisingly well from what you witnessed. 

They talked to each other like they’d known each other forever, and you couldn't recall a time you had ever seen Madara so at ease. 

To your surprise, Tobirama was also active, doing the rounds to answer questions and shake hands just as much as Hashirama. 

He seemed much more severe than you remembered him. His round eyes had become almost lidded and stern, and the expressiveness of his face had faded almost entirely. Any expression was replaced with a neutral line that resembled a frown more often than not. But despite his unfortunately standoffish demeanor, people still appeared to find him approachable, waving him over and standing with clear interest as they probed him with questions. And while Hashirama spun hope of the village's founding, Tobirama answered the logistical questions. 

“Several locations will be considered during negotiations,” you heard him tell a small group of concerned Senju. He had his arms crossed sternly over his chest. His voice was much deeper than when you last heard it about ten years prior. 

Tobirama appeared around you a few times throughout the night, standing a distance away with his attention occupied by various clan members. However, you couldn’t help but note how he kept his body turned ever so slightly, and you wondered if he eyed you out of his peripheral the way you kept him in yours. 

You, too, shifted your stance, following Madara closely around the hall for the few rounds he made. Madara wasn’t nearly as social as the Senju appeared to be— perhaps it was a cultural difference. Although it did occur to you that the Senju didn’t seem to know much about the truce at all.

While Madara and the rest of the council (the council you supposed you were now a part of due to your fibbing) held a village-wide, night-long meeting to hash out questions and concerns about joining up with the Senju, Hashirama appeared to have had no such discussion with his people. Instead, it seemed that the first formal discussions about this decision among the Senju were occurring here at the announcement banquet.

And while the Senju certainly had significant concerns and an even greater number of questions, they appeared relatively docile, taking Hashirama and Tobirama’s answers and words with great weight. No one but Hashirama and his charming personality could have pulled such a thing off, you considered.

The Uchiha were the first to trickle off, many of them leaving after an unspecified amount of time to return to the village in the crook of the southern shoulder. The fact that it was approaching dark wasn’t of concern, considering that the Uchiha as a whole tended to favor nighttime travel. 

The Senju stayed the longest, occupying the hall in astonishingly great numbers well into the night. They even outlasted you, Madara, and the Uchiha council, all of whom were beginning to drift away back to your temporary quarters on the neutral negotiation grounds. 

You stood at the far end of the hall near the exit as Madara bid a lengthy farewell to Hashirama, having been sucked into an excessively long bout of shop talk. Tobirama stood at the far end, leaning against a table. He hunched intently and nodded along to a fellow Senju clan member.

You wondered if his gaze followed your presence as easily as yours did him. You soon left with Madara. You had lengthy negotiations ahead of you.

***

You were grossly underprepared; that much was true. And perhaps you should have known as much when you saw how every other clan, even those already affiliated with the Uchiha, brought parcels upon parcels of paper into the meeting room. As a self-appointed member of the council, you carried nothing, nor did the rest of the council members who were chosen through battle. The idea of Madara having prepared documents didn’t even occur to you, nor should it have, considering that he, too, came empty-handed. 

“I would like to thank each of you for making the journey to join together in this place for these historic discussions,” Hashirama began, assuming leadership over the negotiations. “In the mere act of traveling all this way and bringing the openness of your mind, you are already changing the future for the better.”

Several clan heads from small clans as well as leadership from allied ones gathered around the table. Papers and quills sat neatly on the table everywhere but in front of the Uchiha. Members of the various councils and other assistants sat along the room's perimeter, some haphazardly pulling in a random assortment of chairs while others stood behind their respective leaders. 

Madara sat directly across from Hashirama, ignoring the other clan leaders' pointed glances toward Madara’s ignited sharingan eye. Your back touched the wall just a short distance behind him. The other Uchiha counselors took up great space with their chairs, and even with one or two sitting on the floor, the liberal space behind Madara was indeed occupied. 

“There are several topics to discuss on the docket, and while one is no less important than the other, I believe our first decision should be that of location.” Hashirama shifted a page in front of him before glancing back up at the table. “Does any clan pose a quarrel?”

“Is this perhaps too rash to begin with choosing land?” the head of the Fuma questioned. He sat forward, forearms crossed on the table as he stared directly ahead toward the Inuzuka clan head. “Setting boundaries for how our people are to behave should be of primary importance. From there, we can speak about the governmental structure.”

“I implore you to elaborate on what you speak,” Inuzuka spat, crinkling her nose in disgust. 

“The notion that we are to join together in unity is indeed pleasant, but I do hold concern for my people over the lack of self-control in some disingenuous natures gathered here.”

“This is rich from your tongue!” Inuzuka barked. “Your interest in policy-making is so transparent it is foul!”

“I am in agreement,” Hyūga interjected, already beginning to gather his things. His slender, opaque eyes narrowed at Fuma before glancing at Madara. “Negotiating with those who only know savagery appears fruitless indeed. Gaze upon Madara’s brazenly ignited sharingan eye! I call for expectations to be set!” Hyūga glanced around in search of support before fully turning toward the Uchiha. “Is not the presentation of the sharingan in opposition to bare eyes a show of violence in your culture? Is it not a declaration of battle?”

“This is spoken by an amoral backstabber!” Hagoromo growled. “Your allegiance falters in the wind! Were you not recently allied with the Uchiha before your betrayal at the first sign of conflict?”

”Enough, enough, my friends,” Hashirama attempted, but the quibbling continued. 

“He may set this hall ablaze any time he pleases! What if negotiations do not go his way?”

”All of us understand that you care not for clans which are not your own.” Fuma frowned. “Do us all a service and cease pretending you are remotely invested in unity.”

”As if you care for unity!”

Papers shifted across the table as intricately drafted documents were swept into piles. The cacophony of chatter only increased as voices melded together in petty dispute, and it was only when chairs began to shift back from the table that Madara’s hand slammed hard on the table.

”Silence!” Madara’s voice boomed, quickly standing with suddenness.

The sheer volume and dominance that Madara held in it caused all talk to cease, but it also caused clan heads and aids alike to stand, chakra networks flaring to life like a blazing wildfire. The word was curt and singular in its existence, but it only escalated the tension in the room as the backs of chairs slammed against the floor and kunai were drawn out of hidden holsters. The Uchiha council members shot up instantly, igniting sharingan as they stood at Madara’s defense.

He stood, hulking over his place at the negotiation table as the rest of the clan heads watched him where he stood, ready to strike with the most minuscule of sudden movements.

Hashirama sat at the opposite end of the table, his expression unreadable. Tobirama had instinctually stepped forward and stopped only by his brother's raised hand.

Madara continued to speak. His eyes still shone a glowing red.

 “You all think this a game? You would play with the lives of your people so? Hashirama and I do not put an end to centuries of generational bloodshed for it to be tarnished by disingenuous characters…” Madara challenged. He slowly straightened his back to stand at full height as he surveyed the leaders around the table. “I thought we all gathered because we have all been worn by gore and violence… However, for any who is pompous enough to find himself not fatigued enough, so much that he may disturb these negotiations at this place, I would be more than willing to offer a remedy—”

“Speak for yourself, Uchiha!”

“Enough.” Hashirama finally spoke again with far more sternness, and perhaps it was the grave tone— such a difference from his usual upbeat demeanor— that caused the room to stand still. You watched as he heaved a heavy sigh. You had never seen Hashirama frown before. “There will be no talks such as this. I implore everybody to sit. Yield your jutsu… and your weaponry.”

A pregnant pause occupied the room. And slowly, each clan head began to return to their seats one by one. The tension in the air remained, but Hashirama’s marinating words slowly breathed life back into the atmosphere. And to your surprise, Madara resumed his seat without protest. Only one was left standing.

”Hyūga…” Nara spoke from his seat. “I encourage you to sit.” He offered a shallow nod to the leader of the byakugan-bearing clan. Blank irises stared back at him. “Please, I would like for Hashirama to continue.”

The contempt in Hyūga’s eyes was palpable, and the scrunching of his nose was even more explicit. But even he, too, took his seat once more. 

Having gathered the room's attention, Nara yielded the floor to Hashirama, who appeared graver than you had ever seen him. His smile and cordial face had settled into a neutral if not stern, expression, and the atmosphere in the room sobered. 

“If anyone around this table is disinterested in moving forward with this alliance, you are free to leave. Your decisions will not be held against you or your people, and you will be allowed to retreat from this place safely.” Hashirama said. The room sat still. “But if you choose to stay, we all are to approach these negotiations— and one another— with respect and sincerity. Charged rhetoric will get us nowhere. Are we in agreement?” 

No one but Hashirama could have said such things and been taken with gravity. Even now, a heavy aura radiated from him, spreading across the room as clan leaders settled back into their seats. 

“It is true,” Hyūga reluctantly admitted. He turned to Hashirama with a slight bow of his head. “I offer you my apologies, Hashirama.” 

A low murmur circled the room with similar sentiments. 

“However,” he continued, glancing back toward Madara, “If we are expected to yield ourselves to these negotiations, I would personally feel more at ease if Madara were to extinguish his mangekyo sharingan.”

“Aye,” Yamanaka agreed. “As a show of goodwill.” A few nods circled the table.

Madara scowled. 

“The sharingan is a recording device—”

“The sharingan is a recording device as much as a kunai is a quill,” Inuzuka barked, leaning back in her chair with crossed arms. She rolled her eyes and yawned. “Extinguish your weapon, and let us get on with these talks.”

It took a beat of silence, but to your surprise, Madara obliged. The reds of his eyes spiraled into darkness, restoring his irises to their usual deep brown. He continued to frown.

“One of my councilmen will maintain his ocular jutsu,” he sternly insisted. “The Uchiha have a right to keep our account of these meetings.”

“Certainly not!”

“Have your council keep documents like the rest of us—”

“The Uchiha should not be able to maintain something so brazen as a warrior with an ocular jutsu—”

“The woman.” Tobirama’s voice cut across the chatter. You made eye contact with him for the first time since you had met each other again. He stood just behind Hashirama’s shoulder, his red irises boring into yours and his arms crossed. His gaze didn’t leave yours for a second as he spoke. “The woman can keep the record for the Uchiha, for she is not a combatant.”

Madara’s head snapped up instantly, a scathing glare painted over his face. Tobirama’s eyes flickered to Madara. A few heads bobbed around the table. 

“That would be satisfactory…” you heard.

“She is a member of your council, is she not, Madara?” Tobirama doubled down.

You only had a view of the back of Madara’s head, not of the scathing expression that contorted his face as he tried to piece together what Tobirama was playing at. They stayed like that for a few moments, locked in a challenging stare before Madara finally spoke, surprising you with how easily he relented.

“Yes.” He glanced back at you for the briefest of moments. “Yes, she is.”

“Well, if everyone is in agreement, we can finally move past this,” Tobirama spoke quickly, just about cutting Madara off. His eyes drifted back to yours, staring at you along with the rest of the room. 

All attention was on you. You felt it shouldn’t have mattered how important these people were, but knowing their status only made you sweat. Tobirama’s intense stare felt the hottest. 

In a moment unknown to you, Hashirama’s wary gaze drifted toward his younger brother, the thoughts in his head varying in comparison to the room.

You averted your eyes to Madara, who had turned his head just slightly enough to catch your eye from over his shoulder. He hardly gave you a nod. He hardly needed to. 

You cast your eyes down, the reds of your eyes swirling to life. The pattern of your irises was nowhere near as stunning as Madara’s, but your simple eye pattern didn’t appear too important to anyone else.

Hashirama spoke, his usual jolly expression back on his face as he laughed, “We have put off our first order of business for too long now! Let us begin with—” 

With your sharingan ignited, you could never forget Tobirama’s scathing gaze.

***

You were arranged in your own sort of village. Having chosen a slice of heavily forested neutral land that belonged to the Nara, every clan head and posse of advisors were granted their own living quarters for the duration of the negotiations, which were spread out across the small territory. (It all was courtesy of Hashirama Senju’s wood style— you didn’t think there was a single thing that man couldn’t do). 

The negotiation hall was also rather large, consisting of the main, intricately decorated conference room. It also held of a few smaller rooms for clan councils to work out their proposals after hours. You could always smell the kitchen from where you worked, which was exactly next door to the hall.

Run by three Nara aunties, the kitchen always seemed to dish out meals on time and in excess. And for all the petty fighting and suspicion that seemed to subtly lace every other word spoken between clans, no one dared to question any of the Nara cooks. 

Meals were taken in a scattered way, with some councils choosing to sit at communal tables within the dining hall while others took their food in private and likely over political documents. You took yours at one of the few tables that sat outside. Nowadays, you learned to take in the sun whenever you could, opting for a quaint spot under a nearby tree. 

The spot and the view were both aesthetically pleasing, which you assumed brought Mito Uzumaki to plop herself down next to you. And plop she did, her elegant and flowing robes creating a silk wave around her as she looked at you.

“I am Mito Uzumaki,” she said with a curt nod. Straightforward. You already knew who she was. She looked at you with all the seriousness in the world, and the severe pout on her lips made you lower your chopsticks on sight. You weren’t quite ready to handle political matters with such important figures on your own— “I have never seen an Uchiha woman before. Is it true that your clan prefers to send exclusively men into battle?”

Mito maintained direct eye contact as you waited for the punchline, despite the fact that you hadn’t truly mistaken her statement as a joke in the first place. No punchline came. Instead, a gentle breeze passed, making her hair ornaments sway as her face sat comically rigid. You offered her your name, but not even that caused a crack in Mito’s stoicism. You continued tentatively,

“I suppose now you have. Seen an Uchiha woman, that is,” you said, speaking more words that were absorbed into the silence. “I have never seen an Uzumaki woman before…?”

You hadn’t thought it was all that funny. You hadn’t meant for what you said to be comical in the slightest, and yet the loudest, most operatic laugh you had ever heard tore from Mito’s throat like a rogue bird. It came out as one giant “HA!” before she quickly slapped a sleeve-clan hand over her mouth. 

“I see; yes, I suppose that is true.” She nodded, and in an instant, she had composed herself entirely, reverting to her severe, neutral expression. 

You remembered her from the negotiations. She hasn’t said much during the initial squabbling; in fact, you hadn’t recalled her saying anything. But when it came time to discuss actual topics pertaining to the village, the Uzumaki clan made themselves prominent in the discussions. Poised and amply prepared in her talking points, you never knew there could be such a woman leader— much less a clan head. 

“You have quite the sharp wit. I can see why you are so prominent on the Uchiha council,” Mito hummed. 

You opened your mouth to correct her, but you faltered for words. What would you tell her? That you lied during a moment of panic in front of your scorned lover from your teenage years? Perhaps it was her compliment that caused your lips to close. Mito faced forward as you thought, tilting her head slightly. 

“When I first came to attend these negotiations, I was warned there might not be many other women. I had approached Inuzuka, but she did not seem to be one for casual speaking. This is why I say these things. Perhaps I am too invested in such labels,” she said before she rose. Mito gracefully smoothed out her robes. “I will not disturb your meal more than I already have, although—” She turned to you with a delicate smile. “I hope that we may work together in the near future.”

”Yes, most certainly,” you offered, still not entirely wrapping your head around the interaction in the slightest.

Even as she walked away, you pondered her.

***

Mito hadn’t been the only one to mistake you for someone of importance. However, you couldn’t necessarily blame anyone who assumed you would be a good contact with Madara. You did tell Hashirama you were on the Uchiha council, after all, and having shown up to the meetings acting as the Uchiha’s resident records keeper, you had assumed the role rather ideally. But acting only served to get you a short distance and did little for your actual political knowledge or your nerve.

 And so, when you received important documents to be reviewed by the next day’s session, you thought you would pass them off to Madara. You had tried to politely decline the scrolls several times, insisting that they should go to a member who was actually a part of the council without saying the quiet part out loud, but the notes had been thrust upon you regardless. 

You flipped through them out of acute curiosity, skimming them as you returned to the Uchiha quarters. It wasn’t far out of the way, within walking distance of the meeting hall but far enough from the other residences for privacy and peace of mind. You trudged up the path amongst the trees, just beginning to roll the last scroll back up when the Uchiha residence appeared.

But it wasn’t the intricately built building that made you stop at the edge of the trees. 

Tobirama scrambled up from where he sat on the steps to the engawa, placing one foot on the ground while the other retreated a step up. You stood just a short distance away, visibly stunned, as the surprise in Tobirama’s eyes flashed across his red irises before disappearing instantly.

His jaw tightened as a low rumble ruminated around his chest. He cast his gaze off to the side. 

��I was informed that they had just sent a trusted member of the Uchiha council here to deliver the updated documents and that I was to give this to him.” Tobirama held out yet another scroll, nearly identical to the ones you carried. “It was left behind.”

You performed another swivel of your head. The Uchiha lodgings were quiet. A gentle breeze rattled the leaves around you. Madara must be off meeting with Hashirama.

The scroll sat in the air, and you made no effort to retrieve it from him. You took a step back. Tobirama’s arm lowered. His brow twitched.

”And they sent you for this?” you asked. Tobirama’s scowl deepened. “I understand being asked to run papers myself, but—” You purposefully met his gaze with a creased brow and a frown. “They sent you…?”

”I could do the task the swiftest, that is, if Madara was actually here. They must have headed back into town,” Tobirama said just a beat too quickly. “I am surprised you were not notified. I could have saved myself the trouble.” He waved the scroll toward you, bobbing his head in annoyance. “I cannot say I take a liking to the situation any more than you do, so be hasty now.”

“Any more than I?” You scoffed. Your head swiveled around to check your surroundings. When you faced him again, you spoke with a quiet hiss. “Excuse my hesitancy, for the last time we spoke, I do recall you were detailing your plans to mutilate my butchered corpse!”

 Tobirama huffed, but he visibly tensed. His eyes also surveyed the surrounding woods before he glanced back at the Uchiha compound. He leaned forward, not that the slight distance made much of a difference, as he scolded you softly from across the clearing.

“Quite the exaggeration, considering you were an enemy spy,” he gritted lowly through his teeth. His gaze continued to dart around the trees. He scowled deeply before casting his shifty gaze off to the side again.

”This is false by your own admission!” You moved partway into the clearing, your index finger pointed. Another glance away. Your voice was hushed, still hissing in an attempt at secrecy. “You had affirmed that I was a non-combatant in the initial round of discussions, and in any case, it would be inaccurate to describe me as anything else—!”

 “A spy constitutes a danger,” he said quickly, lip curling downward into a shape that could have easily been a pout. 

It was an annoyed gesture but devoid of actual weight. Tobirama sighed, and as he closed his eyes, you could see the tension in his shoulders deflate. He was surely displeased with having to face you so soon, but lacked aggression.

It sent you back, thinking you saw a glimmer of something from the past in the barely recognizable man before you. You never thought you would see him again, after all, and despite the ongoing peace negotiations, there was no doubt in your mind that your previous affair could stir up tensions. 

Your heart constricted, your pulse pounding in your ears. A magnetic force willed you forward, the feeling suffocating your lungs and throat, a dense curiosity. How purposeful had his appearance at the Uchiha compound been?

You wondered what Tobirama thought of all this. You wondered if he looked back upon you fondly like an old flame or perhaps if he was eager to see you again. Maybe it was all too hopeful for the disgust and resentment that coated your very last interaction. 

You thought. You thought. You thought.

But an answer came more swiftly than you anticipated. 

”You seek something that is no longer present.” The skin around his eyes had creased, narrowing his red gaze incredulously at you, piercing you deeply. Tobirama’s voice cut through your thoughts as if reading your mind. It occurred to you for a moment that such a jutsu might exist. “I can see it in those damned eyes… it is the reason you take matters of the battlefield so personally.”

It wasn’t until you stopped short that you realized you were walking toward him. The sudden hostility in his voice froze you mid-step. You stared into his red irises, looking for any hint of his thoughts. 

You thought you had seen something, even in his vexed expression, but its shadow passed quicker than you could catch. And now, he looked down upon you, arms crossed and cold.

“What?” It was the only thing you could think to say. You blinked a few times in disbelief.

Tobirama held the scroll out to you again, waving it a few times in the air. Your gaze darted from the paper back to Tobirama. 

You wanted to step back.

“Do not make this harder than it needs to be,” he gritted. “Your faintheartedness is going to make a mockery of us both, so I implored you not to take matters of the battlefield so personally.” 

His eyes darted to the side with another shake of the scroll, but you didn’t move to take the document from him. Tobirama glared at you a moment more, anticipating a moment that would never come. He retreated with a sigh, pocketing the scroll with a vexed grumble. 

He moved to bypass you, and you should have, by all means, allowed him to continue. 

There was an immense burning in your chest, which grew by the second, pulling you forward toward an opposition you had intended to avoid. Your body moved on its own to obstruct Tobirama’s path.

A short distance still sat between you, but the few steps of dirt did nothing to make up for your indiscretion. Tobirama gazed down at you, almost as surprised as you were at your forwardness. You stood still by sheer and embarrassing stubbornness alone, driven by an urge to pull something from him that even you didn’t know. 

Tobirama stood over you with lidded eyes and a severe expression that contorted his frown deeper. He crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders back as he regarded you. Your nose crinkled between your widened eyes.

You were scared, shaking. It was an incredulous move. Peace negotiations be damned; you must have been out of your mind to challenge the second in command to the most powerful clan in the Land of Fire. Not to mention alone, and for what? It was something that didn’t escape you, but the panic in you needed everything to stay the way it was. Nothing could move, not until you had time to think—

“Move.”

You shook your head. You babbled like a cornered doe. 

— “You did not actually think I was a spy—”

“Move, you foul, demonic creature,” he suddenly thundered. His voice cut through the silence of the clearing in a way you hadn’t anticipated. The volume made you flinch, and the deep roar shook you, striking genuine fear into your heart.

Tobirama was a man now, you had to remind yourself. He had been tall before, but he held an even grander stature now. His form was carved through battle— the killing of your kinsman and the thorough training that you yourself had witnessed long ago. 

You were not naive enough not to understand what such a man was capable of.  

Tobirama’s face was beginning to turn a shade of red. The fur around his neck flared up around his neck like the mane of a lion. He tilted his head back to stare at the sky as he heaved a deep breath. Tobirama moved to retrieve the scroll from his belt, again holding it to you, this time far more aggressively.

“I implore you to cease your difficulty—”

You slapped his hand. 

You slapped him, and the scroll went tumbling to the ground.

You wondered what your face looked like and if it looked as wide and shocked as Tobirama’s. You were sure your expression didn’t revert to stoicism as quickly.

You wished it did.

”Difficulty?” You steamed, spurred on by panic alone. “You argue with me over petty things such as definition, acting rudely to a diplomatic ally, and speaking of difficulty?” Your voice rose. And in a way, you were sent back to a time when you scolded Madara more often— before his promotion to clan head.

His face was severe. 

Your heart pounded in your chest.

You had just laid your hands on Tobirama Senju. And to disrespect a document used in peace negotiations, no less. 

“Are you out of your head?” Tobirama snapped. His hand jerked away as he took a half step back. A part of him seethed; you didn’t have to see it in the twitch of his brow. “If I informed my brother that a member of the Uchiha council made such a gesture, I am certain that the other clans would consider it a declaration of war.” 

He made a sudden gesture toward you, flaring at you and forcing you to take a step back. And for a second, the reds of your irises swirled to life before dissipating into their usual color. 

The movement stunned you, but it only fueled your mounting rage further. You stood, tense in the shadow of the tree line. Tobirama didn’t move as he settled back into stoicism. Although, his clenched jaw betrayed him. 

The forest stood still around you. 

“I had wanted to see it for myself…” Tobirama’s voice faded into a low, haunted grumble. Tobirama’s stare fixed onto your eyes, and whatever the expression was— curious or disgusted— held a morbid gravity. 

He let out a steady stream of air in an attempt to rope himself back to calmness.

He blinked once… twice…

“You are fortunate that we are in this setting of negotiation and unity, for I would not have humored your petty whims for this long otherwise.” His voice dipped, registering at a timber that shook like a predator's growl. You were still shaking. Tobirama stepped forward. “You dare forget yourself when speaking to a warrior of my caliber? Do you consider that I have the time of day for these things? Now move, or I will move you.”

You were frozen, shaking with wide eyes and a crinkled brow as you did what Tobirama could only describe as staring him down. The embers of a raging glint flickered in your eyes, which were beginning to glaze over with tears of stress. You refused to let any of them fall, allowing the water outline the fire that burned in your irises. 

“You would not dare lay a finger on me, and I know as much.” The words lashed from your lips with a heat that burned at Tobirama’s chilly defense. 

You stood at a stalemate, a pause wedging itself between the two of you. 

His presence was overwhelming. Displeased energy radiated off him in waves, making his mounting fury palpable in the air. Tobirama scrunched his mouth, forcing his bottom lip into a severe scowl.

“Because you think I fear Madara?” The question was laced with an accusation. “Madara knows better than to test me.” Tobirama took another step forward, continuing to darken. Instinctively, you stepped back.

“The only reason the Uchiha have leadership intact at all is due to my brother’s amply generous charity.” He tilted his head, studying you with scrutiny. “Is this what you do? Seek out powerful men to hide behind? To prey upon like a lowly urchin?”

You gritted your teeth, glancing him up and down with a flicker of your eyes.  

“I would hardly have referred to you as a powerful man, let alone a man at all—“

“I have had enough of you and of the Uchiha. If this is how things will work, I might as well inform Hashirama that this entire endeavor is as fruitless as I advised him in the first place.” Vindictive. Spiteful. Reckless. Hyperbolized. 

Tobirama pushed past you, moving out of the clearing and toward the path back to the main settlement. 

Not even your momentary flare of courage could make you stand your ground or chase after him as he left. No, not when you were crushed by the weight of what Tobirama just threatened. 

The Uchiha couldn’t afford to resume fighting the Senju, and despite Hashirama’s good nature, you were certain that the Uchiha could be ended here and now if Madara was forced to fight. 

And while you had witnessed Madara’s great strength firsthand, you knew he could not hope to win in this setting. It would all be over. The clan. The dear one you had left. You. All for what?

That had been the question that had been ruminating through your thoughts.

You stared at the back of Tobirama’s retreating head. Air caught in your throat. Panic whipped around all of your thoughts.

For what? For what? For what? For what?

You hadn’t wanted to fight him, nor did you want to chase him. But the nagging heat in your core grew nonetheless. You spun around, an unyielding fury bubbling up in your throat. And against your better judgment, you critically called,

“What would your clan think about your dedication?” It was only with your empty threat that Tobirama stopped. He stopped short in the middle of the path, letting his foot slide as the earth crumbled beneath his heel. He dropped down a quarter step, faced away from you, and unreadable. He was listening, and you were desperate. “You had given much to an Uchiha girl in your past! Would your clan be pleased to know that her memory was the reason for the unrecognizably bitter chakra?”

You almost laughed at your own gaul, and your eyes only widened as he marched back up the path toward you. 

You rambled with panic, the words leaving your tongue before you could think of them. Sweat manifested on your skin as pure adrenaline took over.

“The son of the famed Batsuma Senju and cherished younger brother of the great God of Shinobi, Hashirama Senju, is intimidated in the face of a woman! You should be ashamed—!”

Tobirama only needed a few long strides before he was upon you. Tobirama’s hand shot out to grasp your neck, only for it to phase right through, your illusion dissipating into the air. But just as your figure began to dissipate, and just as you were about to slip past him to make your escape, his other hand aimed directly through your genjutsu and wrapped tightly around your throat in a mere moment of battlefield instinct. 

You were swept off your feet, the entire mass of Tobirama slamming into you like an ocean wave. He held you by the throat with one hand, the rest of his body pinning you against a nearby tree as all the air in your lungs was forced out by the impact. Your hands flew to his wrist. 

He held you there, immobilizing you in an instant. It was as though a bear pinned you down or a beastly forest tiger. Tobirama’s breaths were deep and steady. His piercing gaze bore deeply into you, leaving you no choice but to meet his eye. 

He was choking you, not with the intent to kill, but to establish dominance. The grip may not have comprised all of Tobirama’s strength, but it was enough to make your vision blur.

You squirmed, pulling at his grasp, but Tobirama didn’t budge. He held you close, with his nose almost touching yours. Tobirama’s arm bent at the elbow between you, impeding his chest from fully pushing onto yours. The bark of the wood dug into the skin of your back through your robes. 

His dense, woody scent was overwhelmingly masculine yet clean; something about it shot lightning through your heart. Aside from the burning in your lungs, it was the only other thing you could sense. 

“The only thing I am ashamed of is that I had not seen it sooner,” he gritted. 

His hand jerked in punctuation, shaking you by the neck, and it was only with this movement that Tobirama recoiled. Or perhaps it was the prolonged look into your eyes, dredging memories up from the past that Tobirma thought he had long forgotten. 

He let you go with an acute stumble back, which was hardly noticeable as he clenched his teeth hard. 

You coughed, crumpling down on the ground. A harsh wheeze tore from your throat as you bowed at Tobirama’s feet, trying to collect yourself. 

“Consider us even,” you managed to hiss, still at the ready to sling venom. You stared up at him from between strands of hair. Tears welled in your eyes. 

He hardly lingered on you, decisively turning to storm down the dirt path, brewing with stoic, cold heat.

You sat on the first ground, just on the trail’s edge. Your hands tremored, holding your neck and face as you reeled from what had just happened. You could hardly move, let alone pick yourself up.

“I hope that the mere memory of me shall haunt you until the day you are killed on the battlefield and beyond!” You cried out, strangled. And to your surprise, your curse came out with a laugh. Your tears had been held at bay for long enough, and they finally streamed down your face. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: So I was fully intending on wrapping this story up in the next 3 chapters... before this chapter. Ugh, because it didn't really make sense for them to be shy and want to reconnect now did it? I think people wanted more to the story anyway now that we're in the actually juicy part.

This series was supposed to be like 5 chapters you know.

Because the thing is is that I'm actually trying to make Tobirama a dynamic character because I didn't think he felt like a character at all up until now. If anything, I think I want to redeem the first half of this series because I hate it so much. I do it to myself at this point.

Oh and then I went back and actually read from chapter 7 on and AAAAA i need to FIX PLOT HOLES so...ooo... this series will be TEN MILLION CHAPTER LONG NOW SEE YA IN TEN YEARS

This story is officially "double enemies to lovers"

Next chapter dropping at 100 notes.

Tag list: @gracefulbumblebee @norasincubi @rahatake @frvv

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Full chapter list: Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI

[rebeltarot]

RELATIONSHIPS ➕ Your next friendship

"[...] and then she knew that you could become homesick for people too."

[3 piles] ・ [6 decks] ・ [12 cards for each pile] ・ [letters, songs]

Hello friends, we will investigate who your next friend is in this reading. What is their personality, and how will you guys meet? All these questions will be explored within this reading. I wish you and your upcoming blossoming connections all the very best. ♡♡

Painting: The Triumph of Venus - François Boucher (1740)

Helpful Links: How to choose your pile ➕ Request a reading

18+ only - This is not a blog for minors. Warnings: None.

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 01 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

C, U, R, E, L, G, Aries, 2nd House, Jupiter

Song: Water - KREAM, ZOHARA

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: 3 of swords, the world, page of wands, (5 of pentacles)

Oracle: seeker rx, humpback whale, occupation, mule, fly, boot, broken ring, don't make plans

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 01, and welcome to your reading! Your next friend is someone who has a keen eye for warning signs. I feel like this person has experienced their fair share of trauma and heartbreak, which makes them a great detector of red flags. Your friend is someone who might very well still be in a grieving process when you guys meet. They might have recently experienced a loss, and generally, I do feel like your friend might be leaning toward the realistic/pessimistic side. Some of their behavior might be strange to you too, given that they were coming out of a difficult situation. The world card is all about completion, success, clarity, celebration, and travel. Your new friend is an accomplished person—someone who has achieved their fair share of success. I do think that your new friend is aware of things and can discern situations accurately. In this specific deck, this card is associated with fans. This is a cheerleader—someone who loves seeing other people win. This new friend of yours will live through your highs and lows with you, and they will continuously cheer you on and support you. They might also be the type to motivate you to celebrate small wins. They might send you gifts and flowers for your achievements, no matter how little they are. A genuine supporter. They are also well-traveled, or they might be from another part of the world. Either way, they are cultured and can adapt to new circumstances and surroundings. We are looking at someone who is curious and shows genuine interest in others. Your new friend is also creative; they might be involved in the arts in one way or another. I do think that this is a fun friend—someone with whom you can go on spontaneous adventures and someone who inspires you to be more confident and to follow your intuition. With this friend, the sky is the limit, honestly. They will be on board with the wildest ideas and support you through them. This is someone who is free-spirited. They have broken free from society's expectations. It's the type of friend that, if you like it, they will love it! We are looking at a confident person here, or at least at someone who appears to be this way. Again, your new friend has experienced their fair share of trauma and heartbreak, and I do think that based on their past, they do tend to struggle with a pessimistic outlook at times, especially in areas regarding security and safety, aka. money. They might have a lack-mindset, but again, it feels mostly related to jobs and food security (there is an apple on the woman's head in this particular deck). I also feel like this is someone who struggles to commit. Again, this does not relate to your friendship but more to areas where your friend struggles with a lack-mindset. Anything that promises security is something they struggle to trust, so they might be the type to do job-hopping, etc. Your friend could have a beautiful and soothing voice. They might even be a great singer. What's certain, though, is that we are looking at a truly wise person here, someone whose words can soothe one's soul. Your friend is a great guide, especially because of their own life experience. They have learned a lot of lessons and accumulated tons of valuable and life-changing wisdom. Again, their words have the power to touch one's soul. They are determined. Even if they are capricious, especially when it comes to their work, they are clear on what they want. They have direction, and they are true go-getters. Their approach is just unconventional. Your new friend is someone with a purpose, and they are doing their best to follow it and be worthy of it. So in essence, this is a person who takes their roles seriously. They try their utmost to be deserving of their titles (be it a friend, a position at work, etc.).

How will you meet?

You guys will meet at work, that is for certain. I feel like the person who is new to the job will be you, given the sequence of the cards. The mule card shows us that there is a situation that seems hopeless; this most likely relates to a person who is stubborn and unwilling to change. This will lead to a period of bad health and even a depressive period for you. You might be struggling at your previous job. These circumstances will lead to you looking for new positions and eventually severing ties with your previous employer. This all seems unplanned; this change was not something you expected or even planned for, but something that was inspired by your experience with this stubborn person. And wherever your career journey leads you, that is where you will meet your new friend. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 02 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

A, D, I, E, U, A, 1st house, Gemini, Pluto

Song: Hate Myself - Tate McRae

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: the moon, 7 of pentacles, queen of wands, (wheel of fortune)

Oracle: judge rx, tiger, mature man, forest, pig, eye, camel, arms

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 02, and welcome to your reading! Your next new friend is someone who holds a lot of depth. They might feel magical and maybe even a bit unreal to you. It's a person who religiously follows their intuition and is just really good at picking up subtle signs and changes. Your new friend might struggle with anxiety, though, as they tend to overthink a lot. But yes, this person is hard to read and hard to decipher. Your friend's motivations are often honorable. They tend to do the things they do for the right reasons, usually to uplift others and improve given circumstances. They are a hard worker, someone who is constantly learning, growing, and changing, and has a lot of stamina. They persevere, and their hard work usually pays off well. Everything they achieve, they deserve. They also pay attention to what they do and what they invest their time in. Your new friend is an intentional person; they always know why they are doing something. This by no means indicates a calculated person, but rather someone who is present and mindful. Your new friend is confident and courageous. They are truly independent and get along well with the people around them. Again, we are looking at a driven person, someone who does not shy away from hard work. They are determined to achieve what they set their minds to. With the wheel of fortune as their bottom deck, they might feel like someone who is quite lucky at times. Yes, they work for what they achieve, but their achievements might come with extra benefits, etc. They might be coming from a privileged background. This is genuinely a kind and good person, and they are always teachable. This is not the type of person to get their ego in their way when it comes to criticism, etc. They remain teachable because they know they are not always right, which just brings them a lot of good karma. I do think, though, that they can be harsh with their words. This is a pragmatic person—a person with reason. They never do anything without intention, so their criticism might sometimes appear destructive to others as they apply their values and their idea of the world to their judgment. They are not the most sensitive and delicate with their words. Again, this is a fiery and driven person. They appear to be unstoppable. Their passion is their driving force and their power, and they are bold and brave. Things always seem to work out for them, honestly, because their force is so powerful that everything just seems to align for them. They put their money where their mouth is.  How will you meet?

You might meet your new friend through a mutual connection—most likely a mature man. This could indicate someone who is in their 50s or upwards, someone who is just simply older than you, or someone who is more mature or has more experience. I feel like this person will connect you two during a time when you are confused. When you might not see clearly and when your values are all over the place. I do feel like you will follow your intuition here. You might reach out to this mutual connection in hopes of help or guidance, and they will connect you to your new friend. Again, you are reaching out for help to overcome a problem in your life. It might not be the easiest journey to one another, but in the end, you guys will embrace each other, and I do feel like your new friend will be more than willing to help you; they will be welcoming. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

PILE 03 ➕

Disclaimer: All Tarot readings on this blog are meant for entertainment purposes only. My Pick-a-card readings are based on my knowledge of the tarot and my intuition. Tarot is a divination tool and should not be considered a replacement for medical or professional guidance. It is not intended to be used as such, and any choices made in response to my readings are your own responsibility. All interpretations are speculative, and whether you believe in it is your choice. Readings are for self-reflection purposes only; take what resonates, and leave the rest. My readings are timeless unless stated otherwise.

CONFIRMATION

Signs and confirmation that this is your pile. This can be anything from your initials, astrological placements, significant messages or signs, places, songs, etc. Please use your discernment.

B, I, N, G, O, H, I, Libra, 8th House, Saturn

Song: Me & U - AleksSounds

YOUR NEXT FRIENDSHIP

Tarot: the high priestess, 5 of cups, the magician, (9 of wands)

Oracle: angel rx, swan, house, fair woman, broom, may, mountain road, back

Their Personality

Hello, Pile 03, and welcome to your reading! Your new friend is a wise and intuitive person. Someone who is in alignment with their subconscious mind and who can read others easily. This person might seem magical to you, but in a way, they might be hard to read, and they might seem unpredictable. Sometimes their actions might be without rhyme or reason, but there is always consistency behind them, which is them following their intuition. Your friend might have experienced some losses in their life, and there might still be situations that are eating away at their conscience because they are regretful. The past might still be hunting them, and I do think that they struggle with letting go, especially when they know that they failed a situation or someone. Your new friend is truly resourceful, and they know how to wield what they have to achieve their goals. They are great at manifesting and achieving their desires. This, to me, feels like someone who is lowkey a perfectionist. They struggle with failure and they struggle with loss, and when experiencing it, they might be pessimistic about it. Your new friend is a powerful person; they are unique and authentic, and again, they follow their intuition. The only action your new friend takes is inspired action. They are resilient, for sure, and extremely courageous. They fight for what they want and protect their loved ones fiercely. This is not the type of person to give up easily; they are persistent and also great at setting, keeping, and respecting boundaries. I do not think that they are easily approachable in the sense that they are guarded. They are protective of themselves and the people in their lives, but once you are in, you are in for good. I feel like your friend's first impression can be misleading. They might appear innocent and angelic at first, but they are quite the opposite. Again, this is a strong person, but it might not be evident in their appearance. First impressions are misleading here, and they usually tend to use this to their advantage as they are aware of others's perceptions of them. Your friend is quite graceful. They hold so much wisdom, and it feels like the way they go through life is just effortless. They are a great teacher, especially when it comes to elegance and grace. They inspire with dignity, and I do think that they have a great eye for beauty and aesthetics. This seems like a truly classy person.  How will you meet?

You guys will meet at someone's home. This is either the housewarming of someone you both know, or you might be moving to a new neighborhood or a new home, and they might be living in the same apartment complex or on the same street. Either way, a fair woman is involved; this specifically describes their hair color, which ranges from blonde to gray and white. Whatever it is, it will most likely happen in May or start in May. Your move or your way there might not be easy, and there might have been a few hiccups along the way, but eventually, you are getting there, starting a new life and a new path. I do think that this person is meant to support you through your new chapter in life. You might even share a home, perhaps? For some of you, this could indicate a roommate, etc. For others, it's a neighbor, and for a small group of you, it's the housewarming of a close friend. But what all of you in this group share is the fact that you will meet this person during a new chapter in your life. And May does play a role in one way or another. It could be either timing, someone's birthday, or hold another meaning. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. 

Your reblogs are highly appreciated. Thank you so much for supporting my work!

© rebeltarot 2023-2024 - all rights reserved ・ do not steal, copy, change, or redistribute my content.

[bakersimmer]

Sims 4 Flower Garden Legacy

This legacy is inspired by flowers and the meanings attributed to them. I used the interpretations from two books I found on my mother's bookshelf.

These are more like guidelines and thoughts on how to make your different generations more interesting, especially if you are like me, and you need goals and challenges to stay engaged.  I didn't have time to playtest all the generations, but I know it's possible to push your sims to the limit without cheating. 

First things first

TS4 is easy enough to play without cheating

Different generations are linked to different expansions

Objectives are not in chronological order

To add more excitement, try out different mods

There are no assigned traits, but some traits would make your sims life easier. Follow your gut on this

There are no assigned colors. Again, follow your gut

English is not my first language, so please ignore any grammar mistakes 🙃 unless I wrote complete gibberish and you don't understand a single word in a sentence, then let me know

G1 Azalea

Azalea symbolizes friendship, family, joy, and tradition. With the right amount of sunlight and water, this low-maintenance plant will bring an abundance of color and beauty to your life. 

You have a gentle and nurturing personality, with a talent for caring for others and creating a warm, welcoming environment. You prioritize spending time with loved ones and creating meaningful connections with others in your community. You find joy in the beauty of nature and have a passion for gardening and spending time in the kitchen. 

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Have at least three kids

Develop the highest possible skill level in cooking, baking, gardening, flower arranging, and parenting

Have some kind of social event with family and friends every Saturday (dinner, bbq, etc.)

Grow at least 10 different types of flowers in your garden (As of May 2023, there are 24 flowers in the game) 

Use only low to mid-range furniture and appliances. Never replace anything, fix it yourself

To make money, you can only sell what you have grown or made yourself (vegetables, flower arrangements, preserves, cakes)

G2 Hollyhock

Hollyhock symbolizes ambition, abundance, resilience, and determination. With little care, this tall and sturdy flower will bring vibrance to your garden. 

You always felt like you had to compete for the attention. You are highly ambitious, striving to achieve your goals and exceed expectations. While putting a lot of emphasis on your education and career, you neglect your close relationships. You struggle to express your feelings and connect with others on an emotional level. Despite all this, you are a loyal and supportive partner who does everything to show your feelings in a more practical way. 

Aspiration: Academic -> Fabulously Wealthy

Complete the first aspiration and move to the next one

Get the best possible grades in elementary school, high school, and university

Have a career in business. You aim for the top

Marry the first sim you have a romantic relationship with

You are the breadwinner. The spouse quits their job after marriage and never works again

Don't spend much time with your child/children

Your home has medium and high price items. When something breaks, you always replace it with a new one

Pass the family money to the next heir

G3 Hydrangea

Hydrangea symbolizes vanity, arrogance, and desire. With little care, hydrangea brings elegance to your garden with its large and showy blooms. 

You are highly creative and have a refined sense of style. Being in front of the cameras feels natural to you. You are self-centred and tend to prioritize your needs and desires above those of others. Thanks to your skills and fame, you accumulate a large amount of wealth.

Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity

Develop the highest possible skill level in charisma, comedy, and acting

Go to a club/restaurant at least twice a week

Have one Meet and Greet in every season

Use mean interactions often

Change your hair color at least 3 times in your life

Hire a butler

In old age, an unexpected wave of generosity hits you, and you donate all your wealth

G4 Yarrow

Yarrow symbolizes strength, courage, overcoming and recovery. This flower will grow even on the poorest soil and doesn't require any care to thrive. 

You grew up in luxury and wealth, but now you have nothing. Despite the obstacles, you are determined to provide for yourself because you want a stable and secure life. It is very important for you that your children are equipped with the necessary skills to be independent and successful by the time they move out.

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim -> Super Parent

Complete the first aspiration and move to the next one

Start with 0 money and a tent

In addition to work, dumpster dive to find valuables that you can sell (Don't sell collectibles or paintings/music/books for extra cash)

Attend different skill classes

Choose medicine as the last career and work in that field until retirement

Fall in love with a patient and end up marrying them

All your kids must gain a Top-Notch-Toddler trait

Always help your children with homework/school projects

All your kids must gain at least one positive character value trait

G5 Gardenia

Gardenia symbolizes sensuality, passion, and secret love. This sweet and intoxicating flower requires a little bit more attention from its grower. 

You have a magnetic personality and natural charm. You are a hopeless romantic who tends to get caught in the passion and excitement of new relationships. You avoid long-term commitment because you fear that the daily routine will kill the excitement and passion. For that one special person, you are willing to take a chance on love despite your fears. 

Aspiration: Serial Romantic -> Soulmate

Complete the first aspiration and move to the next one

Have a childhood friend who later becomes your soulmate

Work in Public Relations (Social Media career)

Get married at least 3 times

Woohoo in 10 different locations (As of May 2023, there are 23 locations/ways on the list)

No kids until adulthood

Reconnect with your childhood friend and settle down with them

G6 Protea

Protea symbolizes dreams, exploration, courage, and resilience. This plant needs a lot of space and sun to grow. It should not be planted deeper than the surface level of the soil. 

You have a strong sense of wanderlust and a need for adventures. You love new experiences and cherish old memories. For you, a job is just a means to an end. 

Complete two adventure/location-based aspirations

Develop the highest possible skill level in fitness, photography, programming, and logic

Work as a freelance programmer

Complete the postcard collection

Move repeatedly and live in at least 3 different worlds

Settle down in one of the desert/warm climate worlds (Oasis Springs, StrangerVille, Sulani, Del Sol Valley, or Tartosa)

Go on a family vacation in every season

G7 Snapdragon

Snapdragons symbolize passion, deception, denial, duality, and strength. This eye-catching, mostly warm-colored flower spices up your garden. 

You are a master of deception, leading a double life. At first glance, you appear ordinary or even mundane, but looks are deceiving. Beneath your boring surface lurks something more sinister. Your purpose in life is to make others' lives a living hell because seeing them suffer is your favorite pastime. You are very passionate about your hobbies...maybe even a little fanatical.

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief

Develop the highest possible skill level in mischief, singing, piano

Fight with 5 different Sims

Become a Triple Agent (Secret Agent Career)

All your kids have to play one musical instrument at the highest possible skill level before they become young adults

All your kids have to have one negative character value trait

G8 Daffodil

Daffodil symbolizes new beginnings, rebirth, truth, and creativity. Daffodils love sunlight and well-drained soil. Therefore, the best growing place for this flower is an open and raised flowerbed.

You are a detail-oriented individual driven by a deep desire to uncover the truth. While searching for the truth, you stumble on a secret that will profoundly challenge your worldviews. You are loved and supported by your community, who admires your dedication. 

Aspiration: StrangerVille Mystery & Friend of the World

Work as a journalist

Be a member of at least two clubs and host club meetings every week

Solve StrangerVille Mystery

Get married to a sim who helped you defeat the Mother Plant

Host at least 8 different types of social events in your lifetime (As of May 2023, game has 25 different social events)

All your kids have to complete the Social Butterfly aspiration

G9 Rudbeckia

Rudbeckia symbolizes justice, fairness, motivation, and optimism. Rudbeckia is a hardy flower that loves evenly moist soil but can also survive drought and scorching sun. 

You are a highly principled individual deeply committed to upholding justice and protecting others. You are willing to make great sacrifices to ensure that justice is served. After work, you enjoy creative pursuits which allow you to unwind from the stresses of your work. You desire balance and harmony in your home life. 

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Develop the highest possible skill level in wellness, painting, knitting, and cross-stitching

Work as a detective

Have a romantic relationship with one of the suspects but break it off eventually

Own a house with a large and luscious backyard where you spend most of your free time

Be strict with your kids, and never miss an opportunity to discipline them

All your kids have to earn the Emotional Control trait

G10 Lavender

Lavender symbolizes spirituality, intuition, devotion, and growth. Lavender needs a lot of light and warmth. Although this flower looks hardy, it's highly receptive to changes in the soil. 

You are fascinated by the concept of magical and mystical, so you spend a lot of your time exploring spiritual practices and rituals to connect with this hidden world. You are determined to connect with and become part of the supernatural world. You have a soothing energy that puts others at ease.

Aspiration: Choose a vampire, spellcaster, or a werewolf aspiration

Develop the highest level of Medium skill

Work as a paranormal investigator

Become a friend with a vampire, spellcaster, or a werewolf

Become a vampire, spellcaster, or a werewolf

[jam-budz]

Miraculous au where Félix replaces Adrien’s role (being chat noir and the male protagonist)

Félix Agreste:

Age - 14

Background - Is a stoic, cold, and extremely smart person who is the son of a famous fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste. He is not very trusting of people and it will take effort and time to create a friendship with. At times, he comes off as snarky and arrogant. Once you get to know him, however, he a sweet person. Since he is well spoken, he will take unfathomable measures to guarantee your safety. (see what I did there?)

Personal - Has hardly any friends besides Nino Lahiffe, Alya Cesaire, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Félix openly crushes over Marinette. He goes out of his way to give her gifts and be the best friend he can be. He does not relate to or care a cent about his other peers. Due to this, he is widely disliked despite his status.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng:

Age - 14

Background - Is a caring, sweet girl who loves nothing more than being with her family and friends. Her parents, Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain happen to be the owners of the most renowned bakery in Paris. She will do anything to protect her classmates.

Personal - In school, she is one of the most friendly and popular girls in her class. Because of this, she has a lot of friends who do nothing but support her. She is generally confident in herself after her best friend, Alya Cesaire helped her fend off her bullies. Her other closest friends, Félix Agreste and Nino Lahiffe were befriended shortly after. Marinette finds Félix.. weird. Whenever she speaks or interacts with him, he acts extremely awkward and clumsy. She doesn’t mind it at all, though. If anything, it’s almost charming…cute? She’s not sure. Discarding that, he’s a very good friend, standing up for her when she needs it. He even buys her (very expensive) gifts and other things that make people think the two are dating.

Resolve: Hawkmoth is defeated and they start dating (whoops, my cover has been revealed I am a Felinette enjoyer)

[philtstone]

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son. 

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge. 

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line. 

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy. 

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says. 

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely. 

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling. 

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch. 

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment, 

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” 

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says. 

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –” 

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him  through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door. 

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out. 

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch. 

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead. 

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?” 

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.” 

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely. 

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy. 

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager. 

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!” 

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical. 

“No!” 

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!” 

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration. 

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine. 

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.   

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door. 

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither. 

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago. 

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault. 

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.  

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely. 

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard. 

[chaosnojutsu]

Who *Should* Have Died From The Konoha ~12 Instead Of The One Who Did

rules:

we’re assuming they die under the same circumstances as the other guy

each one listed would have a complete storyline and their death would further the immediate plot as well as the overall narrative

i’m not “just picking characters i don’t like”

i do not condone killing characters for the sake of shock value but am considering shock as a legitimate tool in generating impact of a character’s death

miss me with “[redacted]’s death was a tragic result of the shinobi system” because no it was not. if that were true you could sub out [redacted] for any other child soldier and get the exact same impact. we know exactly why they were chosen and it’s got an (insufficient) explanation irl and in-universe.

#3. Sai

Motivation: Friendship

First of all, imagine the shock value from killing one of THE Team Kakashi members.

Cool. Now imagine Naruto’s shock at Sai sacrificing himself for him.

Sai overanalyzes normal human interaction to the point of not understanding it. He reads books about how to befriend people. He still doesn’t understand it all the time but friendship is coming more naturally to him these days. What he does understand is that Naruto is the only chance of winning this war, and he’s down, and the enemy is aiming for him, and Hinata is trying to stop them but she’s on the ground, the spears are in the air and so is Sai, and Naruto is his friend.

He doesn’t need to think about it much deeper than that.

Now imagine Sasuke “What Does ‘Friend’ Mean To You” Uchiha witnessing this, witnessing Naruto’s reaction, and the further effects this may have on his character. After all, Sai was his replacement. If Naruto feels this strongly about losing someone who was decidedly not him but his friend and teammate nevertheless then… maybe.

#2. Rock Lee

Motivation: Youth

Regardless of *how* this one plays out, no one wants to watch the determined, precious, comedic relief die; no one who’s watched this far into the show wants Rock Lee specifically to die. Huge impact already. But we can make it super duper sad because he deserves a memorable death. I see it going one of two ways.

One: Hinata doesn’t even have the time to try to shield Naruto because Rock Lee is faster. Ten-Tails barely launches the attack and Lee’s already taken/attempted to counter the hit. Perhaps this is his eight gates moment. Similar to Sai, Rock Lee would cite the power of friendship in his dramatic death speech, but he also was just… doing his duty. Truly, if you’re in the “Neji was just another tragic child soldier” camp, Rock Lee is the prime example of what I mean when I say you could sub in any child soldier, which I know sounds paradoxical but stay with me. Rock Lee’s entire personality is training harder than anyone else to benefit a system that will ultimately result in his death. If you want to make a point about child soldiers and needless lives lost, Rock Lee is the one to kill.

Two: Rock Lee doesn’t shield Hinata. He shields Neji. But not necessarily on purpose. The scene plays out exactly as written up to the moment Neji activates his byakugan, and the next frame isn’t him falling to the ground, it’s Rock Lee. The usually-somewhat-reserved Neji is devastated, probably in tears, demanding to know why he would do something like this. Rock Lee coughs up a bit of blood. “I was faster than you.” Smile. “I finally beat you…” Serene eyes fall shut. “…rival.”

And now imagine Naruto’s reaction to losing Bushy Brow. Imagine him watching Gai be brought to his knees by a blow that didn’t physically touch him. Imagine Madara incorrectly perceiving that. The implications. The foreshadowing.

#1. Shino

Motivation: Legacy

I’m gonna be real, the writers were never gonna kill off Rock Lee like that, which is the biggest reason Shino has taken the crown as Most Worthy Of A Tragic Death in my book.

This dude has a connection to both Naruto and Hinata (making him equally as good a sacrifice as Neji if that’s the canon criteria). However, unlike most other (male) characters, Shino isn’t shown to have a particularly close friendship with Naruto. The one recurring joke around Shino is that he’s so irrelevant even Naruto can’t remember his name.

But he is good friends with Hinata. And he knows she’ll spend the rest of her life miserable if Naruto dies, and that if she dies right now she will never have gotten her life’s greatest wish.

So Shino goes out in a blaze of glory, and we’ll probably insert something about how Naruto has somehow secretly inspired him all along— or maybe something cynical about how he always wanted to be included by Naruto but never was unless Kiba or Hinata were around, so he’s sacrificed himself to maintain the livelihood of everyone else while not “losing” that friendship himself— and we of course get the touching moment with Hinata (oh just imagine the drama if Shino lay dying and told Hinata “Why did I protect you? It’s simple. The reason is… for the same reason you protected him.” and we find out that the huge secret crush of the show was not Hinata toward anyone, but Shino toward Hinata, never confessing because he knew it would be futile).

Good luck forgetting his name now, Naruto. Now no one will ever forget about Shino Aburame.

[taffywabbit]

it's so hard for me to think of what any of my personal GOTY picks might be this year, because every time I think about one of the really kickass games I played/beat for the first time this year (that's what I'm going off of btw, not release date) I then have to remember "oh right I also played Pseudoregalia in like. February. and then proceeded to play it 90 more times, including once yesterday. I think there's some compelling evidence that I might've liked that game a little bit more than this other stuff" lol

...that being said, I think my other top contenders for stuff I played during 2024 would be (in no particular order):

- Noita (obviously. I can't believe I ALSO didn't start playing this until early January, it feels like it's been way longer. funny wizard explode)

- Cavern of Dreams (easily one of the best attempts I've ever seen to recreate not only the visual style of an N64 game, but the precise FEELING of playing one as a kid and exploring for weird secrets)

- the Paper Mario TTYD remake (I ended up going for 100% on this one, it's honestly some of the most fun I've EVER had streaming a game. I've never seen a remake knock it out of the park this hard, this shit is absolutely packed full of loving detail)

- Mario + Rabbids: Sparks of Hope (I haven't quite finished it yet but I'm confident in including it here. friendship ended with Fire Emblem, I actually just need more of whatever this is)

- Zelda: Ultimate Trial (an OoT romhack that has no business being as good as it is. I jokingly called it "the Undertale Yellow of Zelda fangames" when I finished it and honestly I still stand by that)

- uhhh sure I guess Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom can go on here too (it's not a new series favorite or anything but it was still a ton of fun and I loved collecting funny Zelda monsters like Pokemon lol. very solid dungeon/puzzle design too, a real return to form)

and I guess if you want my LEAST favorite games of 2024 I'll include those too but put them under a cut:

- Corn Kidz 64 (kinda janky and imprecise controls coupled with overly punishing platforming, a really unsatisfying sense of progression, and humor and general vibes that I just found to be kinda rancid and offputting overall)

- Penny's Big Breakaway (I was SO excited to play this one, but was really disappointed. the level design is just kinda baffling and frequently makes you waste time doing side objectives for no reward or loops you back on yourself, the controls are weird and make it extremely easy to misinput and die accidentally, and it constantly throws score/combo elements in your face but nearly every move you can do will instantly take away all of your momentum unless it's 100% perfect. I couldn't even force myself to finish this one. at least the music whips ass tho)

- Zelda II: The Adventure of Link (I've started and quit this one many times but this year I forced myself to play it to completion on my switch, making liberal use of savestates. it didn't help that much. I wrote a whole reflection earlier this year about the ambitious and interesting stuff this game tried to do and why it never quite works - I think I only posted it on cohost, I should probably retrieve that before it gets deleted)

- Dr Robotnik's Ring Racers (listen if you didn't have any attachment to SRB2 Kart before this "sequel" came out then I probably can't really explain to you why I loathe this thing so much in terms of actual design differences. all I WILL say is that I'm furious we got this, which is a completely different fucking game that's super overtuned to solely appeal to a very specific kind of highly technical player niche and scare everyone else away, as a REPLACEMENT for just getting a goddamn update to add CPUs to SRB2 Kart. it's all I ever wanted, and now because they turned that update into DRRR instead, I will never get it)

also I just think it's funny to put it in perspective here that I'm choosing NOT to put Donkey Kong 64 on this list, which I did 101% complete earlier this year. so that's the bar, anything on my Least Faves list is stuff I enjoyed less than the experience of streaming the entirety of DK64. I really did have more fun beating Beaver Bother 3 times than playing Corn Kidz. I don't know what that says about me

[necrotic-nephilim]

in the tags of that one fab five poly post you mentioned that you are a core four enthusiast and I’d love to hear if you have any Kon headcanons or just any yj headcanons in general, I love those little guys

!!! i love Kon so much, he's one of my fave guys. i actually got into the 90s era of comics to read his solo run, YJ(98), and then i just spiralled from there. i've got lots of headcanons about both Kon and YJ

for Kon specifically, i'm really attached to the headcanon of him and Power Girl being friends. i think the idea of them bonding over imposter syndrome over feeling like Kryptonians who don't neatly fit into the Superfam would be very crunchy. it's my Kara Zor-L stan showing, but i've got a lot of fic ideas where they end up close. similarly: i also think a friendship between Kon and Bizarro could be fun, both being clones of Superman made by Lex.

for a YJ headcanon: i hold FIRMLY to the belief that Bart knew TIm's secret identity before YJ even formed he just. never mentioned it bc no one asked him. the way they meet in Robin Plus Impulse, i see no world where Bart doesn't figure it out. i think it makes for a hilarious concept that Tim's identity real is a big deal and he uses the whole fake name Alvin Draper and Bart just blurts out that he's Tim Drake. i know we all love TimKon, but I'm a bit of a TimBart truther and i think it could be a fun little moment for them.

back to Kon: this is less of a headcanon and more of just a thought: but i wish we had more content about the Ravers, Kon's team before YJ. i won't everytime i think about Superboy & the Ravers i have to look it up to convince myself i didn't hallucinate that entire comic. but it was so fun. there was a road trip arc. a canon queer character who's arc was handled shockingly well for the 90s. (and the homophobic character was the one who got the unhappy ending while the gay man got to be happy with a bf?? revolutionary.) i personally believe Hero Cruz was Kon's gay awakening. i won't elaborate on this. anyway i wish we saw more of Kon thinking about this team after YJ formed and maybe missing some of his old party friend losers.

also on the note of Kon, i love any exploration of his canon experiences with being groomed by just about every woman he "dated" in the 90s. i'm such a fan of when a character becomes hypersexual to cope with their trauma that they haven't realized even is trauma. and i think Kon fits that bar perfectly. the first real attention he got outside of being attached to Superman's legacy was sexual attention from women, so of course he would lean into that and not realize how fucked up it was until years later. i love when it shapes his relationships in fanfiction, especially if he doesn't realize it. whether it's Tana Moon or Knockout or just about any other woman, there's a lot of material to explore.

Kon is one of the few characters i will venture out of pre-Flashpoint for because i think his complex over Jon Kent has the potential to be really complex and fun. i think everyone misunderstands Kon and Clark's relationship (i blame the Young Justice cartoon. i've had arguments you wouldn't believe over Kon on TikTok-) as father/son and that Clark is constantly pushing Kon away in favor of Jon, and that's just not true. the issue is that Kon was *forgotten* by the timeline shifting without him bc he was off on Gemworld. and to me, that's more interesting than making Clark some kind of absent father to him. it's an issue of the world he remembers not existing anymore and most of the world not remembering him either, and now there's a new Superboy replacing him. idk man that's fun. i have a lot of thoughts about the feelings Kon would have about Jon, wondering if the timeline shift was meant to "correct" Superboy to make a version of Superboy that was meant to exist and Kon wasn't. this very much ties into my thoughts on how he and Power Girl would have a lot to bond over, feeling displaced in a world that doesn't need them. that's where Kon's identity issues stem from. that said, i always prefer a Kon who actually gets along pretty well with the Superfam, including Clark and Jon. most of his conflict is internal, not external. it's what makes him crunchy.

more YJ headcanon: i think the shift from the Teen Titans to YJ from the perspective of the mentors is fascinating. YJ got a lot more freedom and less supervision, it's like how parents don't try as hard when they have more kids. so i love the headcanon that half the time the League has no damn clue what YJ is up to. they played baseball to save the universe? yeah they never mentioned it to their mentors. no one asked. the lack of supervision, sans a robot, makes them incredibly creative with how they solve problems. they don't approach anything traditionally because no one is properly guiding them. since they're a new generation of sidekicks, most of them holding a mantle that was passed down to them (or at the very least they're a new generation of a superhero family) it holds a bit of imposter syndrome. all of them are internally panicking 90% of the time while trying to appear collected around each other. they're actively a collective disaster because of it.

personally, i view the Core Four as more of a queerplatonic polycule than a romantic one? like i think it's fun to explore polycule dynamics where it's not actually everyone dating everyone, but far more complex of some people dating, some people are familial, some people are fucking, and we don't even know what those two have going on. it's complicated, you know? messy and codependent. i don't see them as a neat polycule whatsoever. it's like an on and off again relationship but with four people that also occasionally includes others. i'm personally a fan of the potential of the Young Justice (2019) team being a polycule except none of them have any clue who's dating who. every single one of them *will* give you a different answer. half of them aren't even aware of the other's sexualities. Jinny has come out as a lesbian like four times to her own polycule. i'm a big fan of this team and i wish there was more fan content for it.

random smaller headcanon: i do think Kon can cook and i think no one believes him when he tells them. bc the issue isn't he can't cook, it's that he never has food in his fridge or pantry to cook with. that boy was raised with Ma and Pa Kent, he can make a *mean* hotdish with whatever he finds. just don't expect him to ever repeat a recipe bc he will never have that exact combination of ingredients in his kitchen again. he is however, horrible at baking bc cooking is an art and baking is a science and you will never catch him following a recipe in his life.

i think Kon regularly uses his TTK to save his teammates during fights and just. never mentions it. like in small ways, such as slightly moving flying debris that's about to hit them, making a villain's punch have more resistance so it doesn't hit as hard, slightly pulling them out of the way. no one knows for like. *years*. i'm very obsessed with pushing TTK to the limits and exploring how it makes Kon hyperaware of his surroundings. it's a literal sixth sense and i think he's passively always aware of everything, even when he's relaxing. no one realizes just how much control he exerts over a fight. which means he's holding himself back most of the time, and in my opinion for the reasons of being afraid of himself, and afraid of the Luthor parts of him. so he just. balances a fight in little, unnoticeable ways.

it's one of my headcanons that if Kon started openly dating Tim Drake, Lex would immediately try to get closer to Kon bc not only would he approve of Kon dating someone from high society, but he'd want to try to use Tim's power within his family's company and Bruce's company as leverage. of course it wouldn't work, but it'd be a fun mind game if Lex vs Tim with Kon just stuck in the middle. i have a vague fanfic idea for this I'll probably never write.

this is a cursed headcanon: but i believe Kon has an incest kink. the number of times he's canonically expressed incestual feelings (both on purpose and on accident) is not on purpose in the text, but the fact it keeps happening means i'm personally just going to run with it. i think KonJayTim is fun bc even if Tim and Jason don't see each other as siblings, Kon would make it a kink anyway. i will leave you on that cursed note.

[aalghul]

Okay, I’ve been emboldened by your recent assertion that you don’t bite and differences in opinions are okay. I also have a genuine question for you. Mine is re: Roy and Jason. It is my understanding that pre new 52 Roy fell in love with and made a baby with a literal assassin. I’ve seen so many references from Roy fans that given Roy’s pre new 52 characterization, he could/would never become friends with Red Hood Jason. I am unable to square the circle of that reasoning in my mind, given his history with Jade/Chesire. If you were interested on espousing on this topic, I would love to hear your thoughts.

Roy and Jade's relationship never lasted in the end (despite how desperately they've loved each other) because she would not give up that life and he could not compromise on someone that close to him killing. Roy is more than willing of working with and even understanding people who use lethal force (I think I've mentioned a few times that him teaming up with Jason temporarily would work for that reason), but he can't be heavily involved with that person long term, in any way. He's an incredibly flexible character when it comes to the types of people he can get along with, and he has more love and understanding in his heart than most. But Roy draws a line for himself. He couldn't even stay in the outsiders long term because he belongs where the traditional heroes are. You can see where the difficulty is in trying to make Jason and Roy best friends, or even in carrying out a team-up as long term as RHATO.

Separate from the morality conflict, Roy also has a specific dynamic with many people younger than him that I think we forget to take into account. His interactions with people noticeably younger than him (while he was in his mid-late 20s) generally seem to follow him trying to be a leader and guiding figure, with the younger person learning from him. His friendships with those people is rarely ever the same as the friendship he has with people his own age. Jason's ~7 years younger than Roy, and is around 19-21 in the years after UTRH. That would make 26-28. Roy's experienced fatherhood at this point, he had relationships and ups and downs and established a place for himself in the hero community. Jason is a teenager who's really only just now realizing there's a life ahead of him. Any dynamic they have will need to take all of that into account. This is a huge part of why they don't work as each other's best friends.

I know you didn't ask for that last bit, but I was thinking about it a while ago and I don't think we talk about it enough. It's just as much of an issue with Roy and Jason being best friends, or anything along that line, as morality is.

If you see more aggressive assertions about how Roy would hate Jason, then that's probably frustration more than anything. Roy's entire character has been replaced by for the sake of Jason and Roy's RHATO dynamic. It's not surprising that anger makes people exaggerate or believe that because they're so personally sick of seeing it. I understand that and honestly, if Roy was my favourite character, I'd never want to hear about Jason near him either lol

[toberkus]

That's totally fair. This is an indecisive household. I seemed to have made up my mind, though.

Maybe a story about Logan, who works at a bakery, and a new florist shop opens up next door that's run by Kurt/Nightcrawler, and it could be a meet-cute, begrudging-friendship turned awkward pining turned healing romance?

Just Logan being all "rahhh I'm a lone wolf I don't need nobody" but then Kurt turns up like 💐😊 "hallo neighbour" and Logan gets the Feelings

I hope that's enough, if not I can add more! Sorry I'm really bad at this 🥲

The au shop part doesn't have to be totally accurate, and you can keep them as mutants (because Kurt needs his fluff and his tail)

- 🦚

WHAAT THIS SOUNDS SO CUTE ACTUALLY I can totally write this augh Kurt is such a cutie :3

Fair warning! I am not yet fully caught up with the comics so super sorry if some of this is inaccurate to the characterss

Baker!LoganHowlett x Florist!KurtWagnar

Short Summary: Two very different mutants end up being shop neighbors, what happens when gruff and rugged meets kind and soft?

Logan centered/POV

A trinkling brought Logan out of his thoughts, his head turning to the door as one of the customers left. The bakery feeling emptier than before. Although Logan wouldn't complain, he preferred it this way.

Slow days like these gave Logan time to himself, so he made sure to enjoy them as much he could. Customer service wasn't his strong suit, if anything he wished he could just serve the customers without ever needing to see their face. The smell of baked goods was nice though, and being able to bake in general was a good way of relaxing, therapeutic even. It gave him something to do, an escape from life.

Logan was leaning over the display counter with his arms, his hands holding onto the edge of the other side, his thumbs drumming in a rhythmic pattern as he counted the seconds between when the next customer would come in. After a good while the mutant had decided that nobody would be coming in for a while, perfect timing for a smoke break. Logan let out a deep sigh, his muscles relaxing a bit and he loosened up his posture. Grabbing the essentials and making his way to the door. Compared to the cozy clean bakery, Logan looked out of place yet he also fit right in. He was very unnecessarily ripped for a bakery job, and had this intimidating look. Yet his efforts to be friendly to customers and always having a fresh batch of baked goods up for grabs made him fit the role well. Logan has always been an honest worker and an honest man, having found somewhat of a passion in baking he will do what it takes to do the job right.

The door jingled as it opened, the mutants figure slipping out from the bakery and placing himself next to the bakery entrance. cigar ready and already hanging out of his mouth as he brought his lighter up to it. The familiarity of the metallic clinks followed by the sound of light sizzling cued Logan to inhale the cancerous air into his lungs, the dopamine of it going straight into his system. Blocking out any other smells that could possibly bother his enhanced senses. The satisfaction of it was rewarding to the mutant.

Halfway through his little break, Logan became aware of the sound of cardboard rubbing against cardboard. And as the smell of his cigar lessened it was replaced with a more earthy, floral scent. Logan turned his attention to the source, Head turned as he scanned over the area. The building next to his had been empty and up for sale for a while, and from what it Logan can tell by the amount of boxes and shop items someone finally made something out of it. Trained eyes quickly skimmed over the array of flowers and plants out in the front, a sign hanging above the entrance in calligraphy Logan couldn't be bothered to read.

A blue figure stepped out of the shop, an array of flowers in the persons grasp as Logans eyes locked with theirs. His curiosity piqued at the striking yellow looking back at him. A wide smile adorned the persons face as they gave Logan a three-fingered wave, "Hallo! You must be the my new neighbor, yes?" The stranger spoke, revealing a thick German accent Logan hadn't quite expected. He blinked for a moment, a bit awestruck by this persons appearance, the sun reflecting against their blue skin and yellow, almost golden eyes. Logan caught sight of the tail behind this stranger swaying low to the ground in a content rhythm, Logans eyes travelling back up to the others' face. They were patiently waiting for a response, now holding onto the array of flowers with both hands. Logan cleared his throat, realizing his lack of response and rude staring. "Uh- yeah, I guess so." Logan quickly took the cigar out of his mouth out of politeness correcting his posture with vague nervousness.

The florist swiftly put their flowers down near the entrance of their shop and made their way over to Logan, extending a hand. "My name is Kurt! Kurt Wagnar,"

The gruffer one of the two carefully looked at the hand offered to him. Logan switched the Cigar over to his left hand before accepting Kurt's handshake. "Logan," His voice came out a bit roughed than intended, visually cringing a bit at his own voice. The handshake ended with a small tug and to logan, an awkward release. "Logan," Kurt repeated as if to test his own pronunciation. Kurt's eyes flicked to the windows of Logans bakery for a moment before travelling back to said mutant Infront of him. "Your bakery looks lovely! I am glad to have found such a great spot, I think we'll make excellent neighbors." The taller chirped, Logan felt a bit intimidated with how sociable Kurt seemed to be, being able to continue a conversation so fluidly. Logan had never been much of a talker, being known for his vague grunts and sighs as a response to pretty much anything. But the way Kurt spoke to him was unusually inviting, it gave Logan a hard time thinking of how to respond.

"Yeah, I'm sure we will."

After some more small talk (Kurt informing Logan of how excited he was to move to here and being able to open his own shop as Logan made poorly efforted responses in yeah's, mhm's and nods.) Kurt asked Logan if he would be able to help him out with moving into the shop, only having stuff like boxes and bags left. As Kurt made this request he made sure to point out that Logan seemed very capable to doing so. Logan was caught even more off guard, unused to flattery. Unsure how to properly form a response Logan cleared his throat and begrudgingly agreed to doing so. Making sure to close the bakery first before following Kurt to his own little store. The cigar being long gone from Logans grasp. Upon following Kurt, Logan was greeted with the smell of Flowers, plants and wet soil, his brain buffering with the immediate nostalgia it gave him. His eyes travelled along the flowers and plants, nature always gave Logan a sense of ease. Bringing him back to his old life in a way. But as quickly as the nostalgia came Logan pushed the feeling down, not wanting too linger too much on the past.

He was impressed with how organized it was already, yes there were still big bags of soil and supplies out and about, but Kurt seemed to be a quick worker. Must help when you practically have three hands, if you include the tail. Speaking of his tail, Logan found amusement in watching the way it swayed in sync with Kurt's emotions or actions. In some moments it looked like it was its own being, in other moments it mimicked Kurt exactly. Watching it flick or seemingly bounce away once it sensed an obstacle in its path. It had barely been an hour and Logan already found himself enamored by this mutant Infront of him.

"I already have most of the main parts set up, I just need help moving those bags to the back and organizing more of my pots." Kurt informed, Turning his head to Logan to see if he understood to which Logan gave another, small nod.

He lifted two soil bags over his shoulders. Breaking zero sweat as he did so, Kurt smiled at Logan with a gleeful grin, practically beaming at Logan. The gruff one cocked his brow, turning his head upwards at Kurt with questioning hum vibrating out of his throat. "As I thought, you are very capable Logan," The florist replied with clasped hands before bending down to grab his own soil bag with significantly more effort. Blissfully unaware of the affects his words truly had. Logan was buffering again like a slow computer, something in him fluttered, trying his best not to break out his own little smile at the compliment. He didn't respond, blinking away the bashful shock Logan instead put himself to work. Treading over to where he was told the bags should be put, needing to keep himself in motion.

A significant amount of work had been done already, Kurt proudly looked around his shop, only having to move one more pot which Logan had in his grasp currently, waiting for Kurt to tell him where it should be placed. Thoughtfully Kurt motioned over to an empty space on one of the tables, Following his lead the baker had turned around, about to take a step forward but instead the sudden sound of porcelain breaking and shattering joined with the harsh thud of Logan landing on flat on his back filled the room, A wheeze pushed itself out of Logans throat, hissing as he slowly sat up on the ground. Kurt stood beside Logan wide eyed, jumping to his aid with worried hands trying to figure out what they should be doing, "Ah- You're hurt!" Kurt exclaimed, Logan blinked, looking down and noticing the porcelain sharks sticking out of his arms. The blood collecting at the base of the wound but not having space to spill out with the obstacles wedged into his skin. Logans brows knitted together, the florist quickly stumbling to his feet. "Let me grab the first aid-" "No need," The baker cut him off, letting out a rough sigh. "Sorry about the pot, should've watched my step." Kurt tilted his head, one of his ears twitching upward. "Wat? I don't care about the pot right now! You should be getting aided those are serious wounds!"

Logan just shook his head, before motioning back to his arms. Kurt looked in concerned confusion, but still watched as the shards slowly pushed themselves out, which Logan sped up by simply pulling them out. The wounds bled for a couple seconds before closing up on their own. His regenerative abilities taking care of the rest. "See?" The baker stood up with a groan, cracking his back and bending down to collect the broken shards. Not adding any more commentary to what just happened. "I'll pay for it, don't worry." Kurt's tail stilled for a moment before dancing back into motion, suddenly the blue mutant had also been helping Logan pick up the shards, a smile finding its way back onto his unique features. "Don't worry, it's not your fault. I can live with one pot less!" The mutant beamed again, making Logan pause to look up at him, his eyes scanning the mutants peaceful features as he was still collecting the shards off the tiled floor. "How about next time I help you out?" Kurt looked back at Logan when he said that, the baker feeling that tightness in his chest again as he looked into those golden eyes. "Sure,"

The jingle of the door once again brought Logan back to the current situation. His head moved up spotting that familiar blue figure smiling at him as if he were the highlight of his day. "Hallo!" Kurt greeted, Its been a couple weeks since they first met and it had become a custom for them to visit each others shops, well, mainly Kurt randomly walking into Logans bakery to talk or actually order something. Logan nodded at Kurt as he walked in, a small smile tugging on his lips as the blue one marched to the display counter. He placed a medium sized bag atop the display, Infront of Logans view. the mutant in question looking across the counter at Kurt. "What's this?" Logan asked as rugged hands grabbed at the paper bag. Looking at Kurt for a response before opening it. "A gift!" "Gift?" Logan repeated to himself, looking at the florist for a moment longer before opening it and peering inside.

Logan brought the contents out by the pot, his hands gently taking it out displaying a small potted plant. Delicate flowers sprouting from the top. A wooden stick poked in the middle of the pot to guide the flowers upright. "I thought you might like a little touch of nature in here," Kurt grinned, impressed by his own generosity. Logan gently placed the flowers down by the counter, next to the pay area. His hands guiding themselves slowly up the stem to gently caressing the flowers petals. Its been a long, long while since Logans ever willingly gotten a gift from someone. Especially not a gift this.. nice. He admired the flower, its Prescence adding more life to the bakery. "Do you like it?" Logan smiled softly, eyes still on the flower. His fingers tracing the patterns on the pot it lived in. "It's great," He nodded, finally looking up at Kurt. "I love it," Logan spoke, his answer holding an honesty he didn't even know he was capable of.

Behind the Florist was a tail that practically wagged at this response. Ears going up a bit as his smile grew. He seemed satisfied by Logans response, but even more in awe with the soft expression on Logans face, Taking in every second. "Maybe I should get you gifts more often," Kurt laughed, the sound making Logans heart flutter in a way he forgot it even could. Quickly the mutant cleared his throat, "You- You don't have to, bub." His hand rubbed the back of his neck, his ears warming up a bit. A comfortable silence grew between them, Logans eyes switching from admiring the flower to admiring Kurt's face. The way he was still smiling and admiring Logan the same way.

The sudden tinkling of the bakery entrance made Logan tense up and Kurt slightly flinch. Turning around quickly to spot the customer that had walked in. Kurt turned back to Logan. "Ah- Before I go, Are you doing anything after your shift?" Kurt rushed, leaning over the counter. There was that feeling again, that fluttering in his chest that made everything weirdly light.

"No, why?"

"Good, Then I'll pick you up after you're done! Ja?"

"Oh- Uhm, Okay sure." Logan blinked.

And then he was gone, disappearing as fast as he came. The rest of the day was boorishly long. Logan was horrible with waiting, patience wasn't really his thing after all. Between each customer his eyes would flick to the clock, practically counting the seconds. Ten more minutes, and they were the ten longest minutes of his life. The shop wasn't even full either. Nothing was there to distract him. The hum of the mechanics added onto the silence, and the glow of the lights started feeling annoyingly bright. Logan groaned to himself. His fingers tapping impatiently against the glass.

His kept looking at the flower, admiring its petals. Did Kurt plant it just for him? How long has he been growing this flower? The thoughts just made Logan fall deeper into his emotions. He picked at his own nails. Did he have a thing for Kurt? Yes. Yes he did. Last time he fell in love was, well… Nevermind. Its too early to call this feeling 'Love' anyways, He just has a 'crush'. With lack of better words. The mutant rubbed his face in his hands bashfully at the thought. God he felt stupid, all someone did was smile at him and treat him like a person who deserves good things and Logan was already folding like a lawn chair. Logan knows himself, and he knows that when he falls for someone he falls hard

Suddenly Logan looked up at the clock, his entire body going into motion as soon as he saw it reach the end of his shift. As if on autopilot Logan clocked himself out and closed up the shop at speeds he'd never done before, because this time he had something, or rather someone to be looking forward to at the end of the day.

The keys jingled in his hands as he put on his leather jacket, stepping out of the shop and locking the door behind him.

"Logan!"

The baker turned around, greeted by Kurt, wagging his tail at the mutant Infront of him.

"You ready to go?" "Ready if you are,"

They walked through the empty streets of the evening, the sun setting behind the buildings. "We're almost there," The florist remarked. "Where exactly?" Logan realized he never bothered asking why Kurt wanted to pick Logan up after work, only now processing how trusting he is of Kurt. "You'll see,"

They walked in comfortable silence. Kurt's longer lankier figure complimenting Logans shorter stockier one as they walked beside each other. "So, I was thinking and I realized I never really see you outside of work. So I thought it would be nice to just.. hang out with you." The blue one spoke, for the first time this was Logan sensing his slight nervousness. The gruffer one felt his face heating up at that thought, Kurt thinks about him, huh? Well, that was probably already obvious with the flowers. "And you didn't think to ask me in a less spontaneous manner?" Logan joked, smirking up at Kurt.

"Was that a bad thing?" Worry a little evident in the florists voice. Logan shook his head in reassurance. "I don't mind, I appreciate it if anything." Logan smiled.

Kurt smiled back, his confidence kicking back in.

"Here we are!" Kurt smiled and plopped himself down on a bench, it was an isolated bench placed on a hill that had an astounding view over where they lived. Plus amazing for watching the sun go down. Logan had looked for a bit, standing and admiring the view before sitting down next to Kurt,

Logan leaned back, hands in his pockets. For once in a long time, he felt calm. A calm he lost a long long time ago, no found again in this moment. His ears picked up the sound of the breeze, the trees rustling in the wind. Critters like squirrels and wildlife scuttering near. The mutant inhaled deeply through his nose, holding that breath for a bit before breathing out. That earthy air, that smell of nature. He missed it. His eyes lit up as they reflected the setting sun, curls flowing lightly in the soft breeze. Kurt watched the man beside him, admiring his features as they fit his surroundings so well. Golden eyes slowly meeting hazel ones.

"Its nice here," The baker said.

"I'm glad you like it," The florist responded.

"Logan," Kurt started, Logan hummed in response. "You're like me, right?"

"Like you?"

"Different," Kurt said looking off into the distance. Golden eyes shining.

"You could say that." Logan could feel his heart beating. But not in the manic stress he was used to, this was different. Different from the pain, different from the agony. He could feel it in a way that made him feel alive, more alive than ever. His eyes turning soft. when Kurt looked back at him.

"You're lucky, you can still pass without people knowing what you are with a single glance. I wish to live like that too someday, undercover from the world."

Logan was shocked at his words, of course Kurt knew nothing of Logans past. Hadn't know about the animal apart of Logan. But yet he couldn't understand why a creature as beautiful as he is would ever feel the need to hide himself. And this was something the baker suddenly felt he needed to put into words, his mouth speaking before he could stop it.

"Undercover?" He rasped, his throat suddenly feeling dry from the nerves even though he just started talking. Logan turned his body to Kurt's direction, his hand filling the bench space in-between them. "You don't need to hide, bub. You're perfect the way you are. The world is just scared of a beauty they can't control," He went quiet for a moment, processing his own words for a second. "I-"

Kurt cut logan off, putting his hand onto his softly. "You think.. I'm a beauty?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Ears rising upwards.

"Am I wrong for thinking that?" Logan replied, swallowing dryly. His palms growing sweaty. "I.. Thank you, Logan." The florist laughed a bit, blushing at Logans words. His thumb traced Logans knuckles, both of them turning back to the sunset now fully gone. Replaced by the glow of the moon above as the streetlamps started buzzing to life.

"You're very handsome yourself," Logan laughed at Kurt's words, the butterflies in his chest flying free.

They held hands, gazing at the stars.. Logan faced Kurt, intertwining their fingers the best he could. "How about.. next time we go out, we make it a date?" The baker offered with a soft tone,

"I thought this was a date?" Kurt huffed a laugh,

"Oh," The baker thought for a moment, he looked at Kurt with hesitance. "Does this mean I get to kiss you?"

They both blinked at each other, and before Logan could take back his words Kurt pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, a three fingered hand soft on logans cheek, brushing through those overly recognizable mutton chops. The kiss deepened before they both pulled away, a giddy smile on Kurt's face with a bashful smile of Logans.

"So does this mean we're dating?" Kurt asked,

"What else would it mean, Kurt." Kurt's name rolled off his tongue softly, as if it were a compliment or a pet name. Kurt's tail wagged softly at hearing his name on Logans lips, fighting the want to kiss them again.

The door opened, the sound of the bell making Logans head perk up. Kurt walked in with a bit of pep in his step, "Hallo!" He chirped, walked up to the display and leaning over the counter to press a kiss against Logans lips, the baker smiled into it, brushing his hand against Kurt's cheek.

Kurt leaned back, looking at Logan and suddenly putting a rose between their faces. "For you," The florist winked. "Again?" Logan laughed endearingly, "Bub, You know how much I love your gifts. But I'm starting to run out of ideas on what to do with them," He said, still grabbing the flower and spinning it in his fingers, staring at it intently,

"Sorry! I just can't help it," Kurt giggled,

"Well, guess what." Logan put a container out on the counter, nodding at Kurt. "This time I got you a gift as well,"

Kurt gasped, biting his bottom lip in excitement before opening the container, pleasantly greeted by an arrangement of cookies. All of them fresh, Kurt bounced on his heels. "You didn't have to," The florist beamed, eternally grateful.

"You always get me stuff so I thought it'd be nice of me to do the same, don't make a big deal out of it." Logan huffed, the endearment in his voice contradicting the choice of words. He watched as Kurt put the cookie contained in his bag pouch, giving Logan a quick peck on the cheek as another thank you. "I'll see you after work!"

The baker held his own cheek, watching the florist walk off with a wave. "See you, bub."

AAUUU SUPER SORRY IF THIS IS LIKE POORLY WRITTEN AT SOME POINT IM SUPER TIRED RN I TIRED MY BEST I HOPE THIS WORKS!!! They are so cute im killing them

[twisted-in-underland]

“You’ve never had a friend like me? Hehehe, I seem to get that a lot!”

Unique Magic:

Friend Like Me: By entrusting their lamp to another person - or “master” - Maram is able to access near cosmic powers. The spells must be made in the style of a wish by the “master” that Maram then fulfills. Due to the strength of the magic, Maram can only fulfil three “wishes” before to much blot is accumulated.

Info template belongs to @unfinished-projects-galore!

Side note: Maram is not a student at NRC or RSA, I’m just using the Scarabia template because it fits the aesthetic of the character in general 👍🏻

Other info: Concept sketch & information

[image updated due to unnoticed spelling errors]

(More info under the cut)

I know I said I was going to work on Yuri and Roma’s sprites…but Maram has been on my mind and I needed to get them in colour 🫣

For those who are new, Maram Grant is twisted from Genie from Aladdin and takes inspo from both animated and live action versions! I mention someone named “Ali” later on (like once lol), that’s my TWST!Aladdin; his full name is Amir Ali but he often goes by just “Ali” or “Al”.

Much of Maram’s basic info is available in the concept sketch post linked above, so I’m going to try to just clear up a few other things I’ve thought of.

~~~

Maram doesn’t attend traditional mage schools like NRC or RSA. I’m really leaning towards the idea that genies have their own schooling system. This is primarily because they use their lamps in place of mage stones. I imagine young genies start learning to control their magic early on through their parents (so they can attend elementary/middle school with other kids) and go through more structured learning in high school.

Genies primarily live in small communities like towns or villages similar to humans. Some communities are more nomadic than others and enjoy traveling around the Scalding Sands. The bulk of genie communities are located in the Scalding Sands, but there are some scattered communities in other areas of Twisted Wonderland. Maram claims her uncle lives somewhere in the Sunset Savannah, and that they have a friend who goes back to the Shaftlands when school is closed for breaks.

The big thing I wanted to touch on is that “Friend Like Me” isn’t technically a unique magic like what we’ve seen in game. This particular power is something all genies have access too, but because Maram is friends with a number of mages (i.e. Kalim, Jamil, and Ali) they decided to give the ability its own name. It’s just a little bit of Maram’s fun loving nature poking through.

Aside from the obvious risk of overblot when casting such powerful spells, there’s a lot of trust that goes into casting these spells. I mentioned in the concept post that to genies their lamps are everything to them; it’s how they monitor and recover from blot and they can act like little homes for the genies if they want. The big thing is that each genie revives a lamp and pair of bracelets when they’re young and is special to the individual. Genies can’t enter the lamps of another genie unless they’re given permission which is rare. The bracelets can be replaced if necessary as they’re closer to the concept of magical pens. The lamps, however, are nearly impossible to replace if lost or broken. Given the fact that the lamp has to be given to another person, there has to be a lot of trust between both parties.

Likewise, the genie has to be sure that the person they are entrusting their lamp too isn’t going to make any stupid “wishes”. This includes things that the genie could conjure up easily, without the need to access such powerful magic. The risk of overblot is not worth conjuring up money, food, clothes, etc. which they could normally do with ease

Ngl between Kalim and Jamil, Maram trusts Jamil with their lamp much more than Kalim. As much as they love Kalim’s friendship, Maram feels like Kalim would make an impulsive request out of excitement 😅

And just a silly little fact about Maram, they really like the colour blue and enjoy big Ol’ pants like jupe-culotte/harem pants.

And that’s all I wanted to clarify! Like always feel free to ask any questions, I’ll try to answer as best I can with what I have already figured out!

[mist-touchedxiv]

Update

Been feeling the itch to write something with Loksen again.

It's just... hard for me: I don't know if it's my ADHD, depression or whatever neurodivergent miasma that seems to be settled in my mind that just creates this block, this hesitation in me.

I also feel like my relationship with FFXIV has hit a rough patch. I'm extremely reluctant to say it's soured, but I haven't played in a few months and I haven't felt any desire to resubscribe. Really, I just feel like I can't make any meaningful connections with people on there and it really bothers me that I feel so disengaged with the wonderful community. It just feels like I'm hurting myself trying to make friends on it. And it doesn't help that ARR is just a slog...

I'm not good at visual stuff like Gpose, but I'm a decent writer. However, most people aren't interested in engaging in pure text, which I kinda get.

Recently, I've resumed therapy after a hiatus due to my previous counselor retired. I'm really prioritizing this... deep loneliness stemming from a growing inability to make new social connections in general. Don't get me wrong, I'm close with my family and I have several very good friends, but I've known them for over 10 years. The thing that's becoming apparent through therapy is that perhaps I have autism, albeit very high-functioning. Granted, I do not have an official medical diagnosis as such, that exam is scheduled for March, but all signs point to that being the case.

I was drawn to FFXIV for the writing/RPing within a compelling world with other people. Part of what I love about this is being inspired by other people's characters and being a part of their stories and the delight to be found where their mere existence takes Loksen's in a direction that I hadn't expected!

But... when you feel isolated from others in that space, it makes feeling inspired to write... makes me feel like Tantalus.

I lost someone that I considered a best friend (which in hindsight I don't think was reciprocated) and felt a profound sense of disappointment when the person I had hoped could replace them didn't pan out, but that's not on them. I've met a cavalcade of people who were quite free to give me their contact information, but not their friendship.

I'm trying to understand how and why I'm the way I am and while the past few months have been and continue to be mostly joyless with some really really low lows, I dunno, I guess I hope that the pain will mean something.

Respectfully,

The Mun Behind the Bun

[neonscandal]

Hi, Neon, just found your older ask here https://www.tumblr.com/neonscandal/700397520113876992/hiif-you-dont-mind-can-i-ask-something-from?source=share

Now, after 2 years, do you want to add something for the answer? Have you know it yet about the news? I'm still sad when I read that BNHA will be over in the next 5 chapters. Whatever happen, I'm grateful and will always love BKDK !!

Also, do you mind if I ask the same ask (same format : strength, weakness & dynamic) as that person above for Satosugu, Matchblosoom and Asheiji?

I have been sitting on this, and a few other asks since I've been slammed at work while still trying to make art on the side so I appreciate you hanging in there. 💖 At this point, the end of MHA has come and gone but my love lives on.

I will always find fantasy AU gifs appropriate.

⚠️ Spoiler warning through end of MHA manga.

TBH I find a lot of what I wrote to still be spot on, likely by design since I was trying to avoid spoilers at the time so I was indirectly speaking to observations we've now seen play out in the show. The notable difference simply being that the end of MHA brought a bit more exposition into the fact that, more than being number 1, Bakugo's one track mind was solely focused on Izuku.

Without Izuku, his ranking didn't matter. So he fought tooth and nail to get his childhood friend, his rival, his inspiration back into the game. Because they were both always worth saving, they were always making one another better.

Can I first and foremost just point out that Joe is voiced by Jonah Scott and thus deserving of a little romanticization in general?

⚠️ Spoiler warning through SK8 the Infinity S1.

PERSONALITY

Kojiro Strengths

Shockingly to say, Jo is humble. He might go around preening for the crowd but, as a founding member of S, he has the ability to meet Reki where he is when he is resentful of his own lack of growth because he's been there. Maybe that's more to say that he has a bit more emotional intelligence than he gets credit for, either way, there is more than meets the eye.

Jo is sentimental. He might joke about his restaurant not being a daycare or even banter bitterly with Kaoru but he is demonstrably still a safe space for up and coming skaters and a pillar for his high school friend even if we see he felt a bit left behind when he was younger.

Kojiro Weaknesses

I just find it interesting that he's very honest but only when Kaoru is unconscious. Like, he immediately carries Kaoru away after his big injury and really only alludes to valuing their friendship when Kaoru is knocked out beside him. From what we know of their lore, when Kaoru was looking to Adam, Jo was looking to Kaoru and I wonder how much Kaoru realizes that. Or how much Carla really probably bothers Jo as another thing that replaced him.

Kaoru Strengths

We know expeditiously who the brains behind the operation are. Kaoru is really intelligent, both in terms of picking apart Adam's battle strategy with the Love Hug and in programming Carla. Let us all be glad he went into calligraphy and not straight villainy because he'd be unstoppable I fear. There'd be nothing he couldn't mansplain, manipulate or malewife his way out of.

CHERRY IS SO GENDER. That's all.

Kaoru Weaknesses

He's stuck in the past with his vendetta against Adam. That's not to say that Jo isn't locked in a similar gear but Kaoru's motivation seems more personal and I suppose that informs a lot of fanon lore (and why Cherry will never beat the allegations). Kaoru already stands at the top of the pile of S skaters but he still has something to prove and it eventually costs him.

DYNAMIC

This is a really short series to extrapolate a ton from, to be honest, especially with its lack of a source material. I'm really looking forward to season 2 which will explore more of their lore specifically but any time there's an overture of disparaging banter with an undeniable foundation of affection?? I'm gonna love it. In short:

They keep each other honest - what happens on S, stays on S and, while Kaoru is hell bent on keeping his lives separate (professional vs skater delinquent), it's important to have people in your life who know the real you. All of you.

They maintain a shared goal - ultimately, friends are mirrors and the importance of that is touched on in the above. While part of their mission is to beat Adam, I think another element of that is to bring him back into the fold. Because when a homie starts acting weird, you gotta set him straight.

My sweet babies.

⚠️ Spoiler warning for Banana Fish series.

PERSONALITY

Ash Strengths

Despite every turn of his life showing him the evil of human nature, Ash still tries to do right by others. He protects the kids in his gang the only way he knows how. That's not to say he was always a good example because he had to do things that were not always on the up and up but he cared deeply about the people in his life and became the "monster" that could protect them, relentlessly.

Resilient almost to a fault, Ash's suffering is frequently short lived, knowing that he doesn't have the time to wallow. Not if it will be a detriment to his cause, not if it puts Eiji at risk, etc. He compartmentalizes his trauma and grief to prioritize the comfort and safety of others because so many people look to him for guidance. He is incredibly driven despite his age and life's challenges. This can be a strength and a weakness

Ash is brilliant. Strategically, skills wise, intellectually, he is brilliant and quick-witted, at that. Had his circumstances been different, who knows who he could have been in the scheme of things.

Ash Weaknesses

He's hardwired for martyrdom. Life taught him what people value about him and he sneers as he uses it to best them. While I love to see him able to turn the tables on so many of his abusers, it still belies that his confidence is more of a shield than anything else. When you're abused, especially continuously, you espouse feelings of guilt, shame and worthlessness. Regardless of one's resilience, you don't walk away unscathed. Regardless of one's intelligence, you still can't separate yourself from thoughts that suggest you're the reason for your abuse. Ash constantly walks into the line of fire, throws himself to the wolves, offers his life in exchange for others, leverages his experience and humiliation to shield the suffering of others'. In the end, despite what he found in Eiji, his decision to be the leopard, as it were, came from the fact that he thought that should be his fate. He did not think he deserved the softness of what Eiji offered. I disagree.

Despite making quick work of many challenges following the trail of banana fish, Ash can be hotheaded. He's emotional at times which is understandable but the worst instance of it was his overcorrection when Sing's men shoot Eiji as the fall out inextricably creates the situation that costs him his life.

Eiji Okumura. In many ways, Eiji is Ash's greatest weakness, often willing to walk back into hell if it meant an even exchange of Eiji's safety or life. But when it feels like you finally find a reason to live beyond just survival, is it not worth protecting?

Eiji Strengths

Despite the obvious culture shock, Eiji is unflappable, regardless of what he was running away from back home. From his pole vaulted escape where it all begins, to telling Ash to return to him safely, Eiji was just there for Ash and, more importantly, expected nothing in return. Both of these capture Ash's attention and quickly establishes a reciprocal relationship of respect and sympathy.

Eiji is as trustworthy as he is trusting.That's not to say he 100% has the best judge of who is deserving of his trust but his earnest nature endears him to others quickly. To the point where Shorter still does everything in his power to protect Eiji up until the point he can't. One could argue that should be chalked up to Shorter's friendship with Ash but there was a tenderness and concern to Shorter's protection that was specific to Eiji.

One thing about Eiji, he's gonna have audacity. He does not fear Ash despite the things Ash has had to do in the span of knowing him. He treats Ash as a person deserving of concern, deserving of kindness and deserving of attitude when the situation calls for it. In many ways, Ash is surrounded by people who care for him but Eiji sees him beyond his reputation and what he can do for him and it sets him apart. Even when Ash experiences things outside of what he can comprehend, when others treat Ash like a ticking time bomb to be regarded at arms length, Eiji is able to close the gap to comfort him.

Eiji Weaknesses

Despite that one year difference, Eiji is naive to the ways of the world. While it is presented initially like a cultural divide, fundamentally Eiji's upbringing, while not a walk in the park, is also so starkly different from Ash, Shorter's and other characters. A sickly father, perhaps distant mother, but he had promise and opportunities. Back home, he wasn't just surviving. This doesn't undermine the ego death of losing everything when he got injured and having to start from scratch. In truth, I don't think anything could have prepared him for the journey down the rabbit hole but he dove down it just the same. Perhaps because there were no alarms blaring about how it could cost him his life even after Skip's initial death.

DYNAMIC

Contrary to the above, I think Ash and Eiji don't always fall into the same dynamic in every part of the story. They fight for one another, sacrifice for one another, and provide protection (as best they can and in whatever way they can) for one another. Despite everything that should separate them and the one in a million chance of meeting one another, they did. While it meant both of their ruin in different ways it also irreparably altered both of their lives as they made indelible impressions upon one another.

I will never get over these two and, I suppose, neither will the rest of JJK since they're the reason for everything that goes awry.

⚠️ Spoiler warning through end of JJK manga. 😭

PERSONALITY

Will there ever come a time when I tire of writing about Satoru Gojo or Suguru Geto? No, I think not. I saved them for last because I felt like I'd probably have the most to write here but once I started thinking about it.. every single one of their strengths in turn becomes their weakness and leads to their undoing.

Gojo Strengths and Weaknesses

Gojo is strength. Tipping the scales with your birth had to make the list somewhere. He was an infallible weapon wielded by the higher ups until he became too unruly... but what could they do? He was the closest thing they had to otherworldly power. In many ways, without him, sorcerers didn't stand a chance. They conflated him with a god and it went to his head. It allowed him the hubris to gamble on a mission he knew could change the world.

Gojo's status makes him untouchable. In a society that prioritizes strength, Gojo was unmatched. Limitless is such an apropo technique for someone so far removed from others... or is he far removed from others because of his Limitless? Either way, by the time he meets Geto, he'd already been a weapon, been an anomaly for so long. He was raised without an equal, he is not unused to being the strongest and the responsibility that that entails. He's intelligent, pragmatic, and extremely capable. However, finding an equal in Geto made him greedy. Confident. A dangerous combination but, had he not always known such impregnable loneliness, perhaps things wouldn't have gone as far as they did. Regardless of the imperfect comparison (since being a Special Grade has a massive disparity in strength) these extremes created such a desperate need to never know isolation again. He was alone before Geto and suffered the weight of the world after Geto. It created an unprecedented sense of sentimentality, it drove him not to burn Geto's body. Even finding stronger students, people who could stand shoulder to shoulder with him, would one day surpass him... and he still couldn't really let them in.

It takes time and experience but, eventually, he has an adaptable worldview not defined by imposed obligation. This is informed by trauma but it becomes the catalyst for how he lives the rest of his life which is marked with the lofty benevolence of someone who doesn't have to interfere in the trivialities between sorcerers and curses/curse users but does if only to prevent others from experiencing similarly devastating loss or alienation. What he does after Geto defects does nothing to redeem Geto or salvage their relationship but, from that point, Gojo appreciates and protects the privilege of being young in the only way he knows how, by forging them to be strong in turn. It's not exactly a moral compass, one could argue it perpetuates a system that still exploits children but the response, as we've seen with the series end, sorcerers don't have the privilege of choice.

Gojo is out of touch with those around him. He can plot causation, infer complex logic, rehash history, etc. but it does nothing for the broken boy said to be his best friend. While he becomes aware of this weakness and tries to address it with Yuji (by having Nanami take over), it's too late. The damage had already been done.

Geto Strength and Weaknesses

Geto is no stranger to grueling and hard work. As an outsider to Jujutsu Tech, imagine coming into the fold, the only sorcerer of your family with a grossly unpalatable technique. Assessed to be the strongest after being plucked from relative obscurity and you stand at the top of the mountain with someone who won the genetic lottery with all the audacity to boot. We don't have much insight into Geto's whole back story but we see enough of Yuji's immersion into the jujutsu world to know that it isn't easy. But Geto made quick work of becoming an adept sorcerer, one who could keep up with the likes of Satoru Gojo even. Even as the strongest, he still must have had a bit of a bitter taste as he came to learn more of the world.

Geto is humble. Such that he earns respect and admiration from Nanami and Haibara respectively. His technique, almost an ill fit for someone who sought to be so pure, so noble, is unpleasant but it bestows such great power upon him. I imagine he had to rationalize it somehow. The sacrificial means to a suitable end in his mind. He is polite (but can absolutely be a little shit) and tries not to let being the strongest get to his head, frequently chastising Gojo for his behavior. But this practice of being humble in the face of such obvious power eventually creates a situation where he feels he is owed.

Geto has an inalienable sense of responsibility. It lends itself to his humility and keeps his moral compass pointed due north. Moreover, its what informs Gojo's reliance on his judgement. His worldview is simple, human even. Those who are strong are meant to protect. I think it further gives meaning to his discomfort every time he uses his technique. As if to say "in order to protect, I must suffer. Because I have great strength, I must be prepared to sacrifice,". This A + B = C mentality only works in a simple world without variables. But the world is unfair, curses are unpredictable and, sometimes, humans can be monsters. So when his worldview changes, it fractures something deep within him because of his simple but unyielding principles and inability to accept the world for what it is: a sea of gray.

DYNAMIC

They diametrically complement one another by design. In many ways, they differ to an extreme that begs the question of how they ever found any middle ground. But they did. And there was love. Or affection should you prefer. But it didn't make a lick of difference.