#but yeah this is my side account for fanfics (i'd rather keep the main and side account separated tho)

[swiftsaltsweet]

Kyoshi's PR Manager-Prologue

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (Possibly characters from Reckoning of Roku)

Pairing: Rangshi

Summary:   Summary: During the later years of Kyoshi’s life, the world is imploding with new catastrophes. Kyoshi and Rangi have to figure out what might be the root shared cause. Will they be able to fix it, or will it be too late for Kyoshi and her legacy?

Prologue is spoiler free (will update summary later), but spoilers for Reckoning of Roku most likely later in the story. Obvie spoilers for Rise/Shadow of Kyoshi

(As cracky as the title is, this is NOT a comedy or crack fic, it’s a fix-it fic where I try to reconcile what happened in Roku’s canon TT0TT).

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: NO spoilers for the novel this chapter.

Gd man, I was taking a break this week cause I was recovering from my sickness and then I see those LEAKS about Kyoshi from the Roku novel? Nah. Nope. Uh uh. Not on my watch. Kyoshi? Rangi? Get behind me I’ll protect you. I’ll sacrifice both my lungs and sleep for you two. 

Just the prologue for now, I still need to see the specifics of the novel when it comes out. But I have a decent idea where I wanna take this based on what I know.

________________________

Kyoshi ran her thumb down the length of the rough parchment as she read through it again for the hundredth time. The contents weren’t good. In fact, none of the correspondences she’d been getting for the last handful of years have been good. It was just disaster after disaster.

Kyoshi put the paper down on her desk, and leaned back into her chair, letting her full weight as well as the weight of the world be held up by some simple wooden pieces. She closed her eyes. Things had been going more or less smoothly for roughly two hundred years. So what changed? 

She let out a deep sigh. She could feel the sound of it reverberate around the study. Filling up all the empty space. 

“More bad news?” a charred voice whispered nearby. It was like music to Kyoshi’s ears.

Kyoshi opened her eyes to see her wife, Rangi, walking quietly into the study, tea in hand. Her features were laced with worry as she quickened her pace to be by Kyoshi’s side. Kyoshi wanted to smile in reassurance, but couldn’t find the strength.

“It’s like someone’s approached our little orderly web of strings and started yanking on it,” she paused, and then corrected herself. “Or more like, someone is taking a machete to it.” She folded her hands onto the desk and leaned her forehead against them. “It’s falling apart. Everything is going wrong. It’s starting to become impossible to put back together.”

Put back together. Her secret mantra. One that tied back to how she, her wife, and her teacher maintained their immortality. Catalog everything. Every weight, every breath, every scar. She would do it for her body. She would do it for the nations. She would do it for the world. 

Put the pieces back. Make it orderly. Everything will be fine.

But it wasn’t. Someone or something was making disruptions. It was becoming too much to catalog. And not just the physical world, but also the Spirit World too.

Seeds of chaos were being sown everywhere, and Kyoshi was only one person. She couldn’t be everywhere. The bison was only so fast. She had so few she could trust.

Rangi grabbed the letters off of Kyoshi’s desk and started putting them into separate piles. “We’ll figure it out. First, we need to triage. Which of these is more dire, who can we send in our stead-” she kept listing off what they needed to do. It filled Kyoshi’s chest with warmth. No matter how many years, decades, centuries passed, Rangi stayed consistent. Ever unyielding. Even more so than Kyoshi herself. 

She would’ve made a fantastic earthbender. She has the mentality for it. Kyoshi laughed in her head. 

“You’re right,” Kyoshi let herself smile just a tiny bit. “One step at a time.”

“All the time in the world,” Rangi smiled back, letting herself be happy that Kyoshi’s spirits were up off the ground. Even if it was only by an inch.

Kyoshi shook her head. “Maybe for us, but not for others.” 

She leaned down and started looking at the piles. Crop desolations, raids from outlaws, angry spirits threatening a village, assassinations were happening left and right.

Kyoshi picked up the letter about assassinations and showed it to Rangi with one hand, and grabbed a map with the other.

Rangi frowned at it. “Well this would explain where those rumors started…..”

“Which ones?” Kyoshi snorted. She had so many. Most were completely fabricated about her. Others were completely misinformed. Maybe one percent held the truth, but no one was interested in the story behind the truth. She didn’t care and it didn’t matter. Her job was to fix things, not worry about her public image. 

Kyoshi started poking the map with different colored pins. She went into her desk and started grabbing for colored string. Once secured, she began looping it around the pins that matched the same color.

“What are you looking at?” Rangi asked, trying to read Kyoshi’s intent through her actions. “Common theme? Looking for connections?”

“Yes, something like that.” Once she finished the last loop she started pointing to the various colors. “That represents all the spiritual events that are going down. That is for the assassinations. And those are raids and other criminal activities.” She took a letter opener off the desk, and slammed it down into one part of the map, piercing it and the table it layed on. “That’s where Grandfather is.” She gave Rangi a pointed look.

Here’s Lao Ge. 

Rangi stiffened at her look, then she frowned at the placement. “Good news, he’s on the other side of the map.” She pointed at where the assassinations were congregated. “‘Out of danger.’” 

I don’t think it’s physically possible he committed the murders. Not with that distance. Her eyes told Kyoshi.

Their eyes tore away from each other and flitted them across the room. 

They wondered if they were being spied on. Yangchen had advised her on how people used to get creative in their spy activities back in her day, and Kyoshi couldn’t help but wonder if the same thing was happening to her.

Paranoia was an illness, it twisted the mind. Questioned her reasoning. Nothing could cure it. Her only options were to continue worrying, or have her worst fear realized and have her paranoia be proven right.

Everyday she hoped the latter would never happen. Of all the things she’d want proven right, this was not one of them. 

“I’m afraid for his health,” pulling Rangi’s attention back to her. “He’s not as spry as he used to be. Perhaps we should pay him a visit?” 

We need to check up on him. Verify and corroborate he’s not the one behind this.

“I agree, he’s getting up in age. I’m sure he’s lonely, he doesn’t get many visitors. I’m sure he’d be excited to see us.”

Sounds good to me. We have a lot to catch up on, perhaps he has a lead?

“Then we should get packing and head out as soon as possible.”

“What about all the other problems?” Rangi asked. 

Kyoshi pointed to where the criminal activity was on the map. “We can hit these up on the way to see Grandfather. I’ll need to look at the letters again, and see if the ones pertaining to spirits can also be addressed on the way to see him as well.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “We’ll save addressing the assassinations in person for later. I’ll send word out to see if anyone has replacements in mind and for me to look over their qualifications while we’re in the air. I want to make sure the person is vetted thoroughly before we put them into a position of power.” 

Rangi looked at the map on the desk. “I’ll run to the library and grab some farming material based on the regions the crop desolations are in. If anything, I can at least rule out if spirits are involved with them or not.” 

“Sounds good.”

“Kyoshi, is there anyone else we’re going to take with us?” Rangi looked at her hard, but Kyoshi knew Rangi wasn’t asking because she didn’t know the answer. If anyone was listening, it was for their ears to know Kyoshi’s intent. Perhaps Rangi wanted to archive which people who did or didn’t still ask Kyoshi if she needed someone to join her? 

Of course, they could try to cover their tracks by asking, even if they knew the answer was ‘No.’ Ah, how Kyoshi hated these mind games and schemes. So much like pai sho, and she hated pai sho. 

“No, this is an emergency. Plus, you know Grandfather is wary of new people. It’s best if we go alone.” Just you, me, and the bison. 

Rangi nodded, “Then I’ll go get Byakko ready and packed to go.” She turned and headed out the door.

Kyoshi rushed back to her desk and furiously began writing the letters she needed to send out. 

___

A/N: Lord freaking knows I’m going to have to make some changes to this when I get my hands on the book (and see a line that contradicts). But I have contingency plans and the power of lies on my side! (as well as slight vagueness in wording so I can give myself the appropriate amount of “years” to work with later).  I’ll make a note in the author notes with a date indicating if I had to overhaul/update some writing. 

[pepperonidk]

i'd rather be blind || c.sc

pairing: sungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader warnings: angst, not accurate at all to korean high school culture but uh... it's fanfic word count: 1425 summary: Seungcheol would rather go blind than see you with someone else. inspired by the song I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James.

a/n: this is crossposted on my marvel account (@pepperonijem) bc i'm reading some of my old marvel fics and damn... they were kinda insane

main masterlist || taglist

“Whiskey neat. And make it a double,” Seungcheol sighed as he leaned his elbows on the wooden counter of the open bar.

The sound of Etta James’s voice flooded the background, but the only sounds he could bring himself to focus on was the blood pounding in his ears, and his heart keeping in time with it. The drink slid its way down towards him, and he snapped out of his trance only long enough to catch the drink before it spilled on the suit he rented for the evening. Seungcheol let out another deep sigh before downing the drink in one sip; the familiar burn of the alcohol settled over him and he welcomed the warmth that rose in his throat. 

He asked for another glass, ignoring the bartender’s concerned glance. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, and let the music and chatter behind him drown the memories he no longer wanted to remember.

The grass was dewy. The sky was blue. The air was crisp. And your laugh was music. 

It was easy to spend hours outside with you. Whether you were playing tag or looking for honeysuckle flowers to snack on, it never really mattered. Not as long as you were there. Today, Seungcheol had implored you to lay on the grass beside him to find shapes among the rolling clouds.

You had indulged him for a while, and he was thankful. While you were rambling on about how clouds were actually extremely heavy, he turned to look at you. You were more radiant than the sun and he couldn’t help but stare. Somewhere among dancing elephants, ballerinas, and coffee pots, Seungcheol could also see an infinite number of days spent in your light. You turned to look at him with a gentle smile and Seungcheol felt himself blush. You chuckled softly before sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. 

“Cheollie,” you began. “My mom said we’ve gotta stop getting stains on our clothes. She said she won’t let us be friends anymore if she has to replace another pair of grass-stained jeans.” You stood up and offered your hand out to help him up. Although he definitely didn’t need you to help him up, he took the opportunity to imagine what it would be like to have your fingers entwined in his. So he slipped his hand in yours and the two of you stood from where you were seated on the grassy hill that sat behind both of your houses. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully. He knew as well as you did that your mother’s threats were empty. She adored him, and made it evident every time he came over. As soon as you would walk through the door with him in tow, the sweet and almost sickly scent of apple pie wafted through the house to greet the two of you, which he would grin at in response. You swore Seungcheol was your mom’s favorite child, even though he was only your neighbor. But his charm never failed to get him on everyone’s good side. “I gotta go home anyway, I invited the new kid over to my house. He seemed like he needed a friend,” Seungcheol added.

Your face lit up in response. “Mingyu, right?” you questioned as the two of you walked down the hill back to Seungcheol’s house. Mingyu had transferred to your school recently and was in your advanced calculus class and although he sat behind you, you had yet to strike up a conversation with him. He mostly kept to himself, and spent most of the class with his face buried in his work, drawing small doodles in the margins to while away the minutes, and you had no desire to interrupt. “He sits behind me in calculus, which you would know if you would actually show up to class, dork.” you playfully shoved Seungcheol as the two of you reached his front porch.

Seungcheol laughed in response as he twisted the key to unlock the door. “Okay, to be fair, I don’t think I need to know how to factor derivatives to get through life,” he argued. “But anyway, do you wanna stay for a bit? Mingyu should be here soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Seungcheol was quick to open the door to reveal a nervous looking Mingyu. “Hey dude, come on in,” Seungcheol greeted, offering a comforting smile to Mingyu and gesturing into the house. “My friend is here, I hope you don’t mind.” You waved politely at the sound of your name and glanced at Mingyu long enough to notice him smiling sweetly at you, causing a blush to seep into your cheeks. This was the first time you really got to notice the twinkle in Mingyu’s  eyes, without the fluorescent lights of the classroom washing them out.

“Yeah, we have literature together, right?” Mingyu asked, walking over to shake your hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Your hair smells nice,” he blurted out before adding quickly, “at least I’ve noticed from sitting behind you, sorry that’s weird isn’t it?” His eyebrows scrunched together as he smiled apologetically, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled shyly. “Thanks.” You and Mingyu stood in front of each other for a few seconds, lost in each other’s presence, until your bubble was popped by a cough from Seungcheol. You jumped at the sound, and Mingyu smiled at you in amusement, but Seungcheol had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, I’ll go get us some snacks,” Seuncheol cleared his throat, offering a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. He stopped and stared at the fridge, looking at all of the photos of the two of you that were hung up by the souvenir magnets you’d gotten him on your trip to Japan. Polaroids of the two of you making silly faces on Seungcheol’s 13th birthday, photobooth strips of him kissing your cheek from the mall two weeks ago, and pictures of you both at the homecoming dance last year. All of those were times he wished he told you how he felt, but let the fear of rejection push him down, and he kept them up as a reminder of his feelings. Seungcheol stared at the pictures long enough to see himself be replaced by the new kid making you laugh right then.

Seungcheol’s trip down memory lane was interrupted by the painful screech of microphone feedback and he turned his head to the stage in time to see the happy couple waving right at him. He waved back and the couple shared a loving look and a quick kiss before you cleared your throat. “We just wanted to say some quick “thank you”s and then we’ll get back to the dancing, sound good?” The crowd cheered in response and she chuckled before continuing. “Well first, thank you mom, for being there for me for all of this. It was definitely stressful, but you are my rock, and you keep me sane. Thank you for showing me what love is and how to share it with others, because without it, I wouldn’t be up here now. And last, but certainly not least, thank you for the apple pie. It was delicious.” 

The crowd laughed in agreement, and Seungcheol took another sip of his whiskey. He looked over to the dessert table to see a few small tins of apple pie still left uneaten and was immediately hit with the sharp pang of wistful nostalgia, not in the least bit dulled by the alcohol. The couple continued to list off names, but he tuned their voices out. Until he heard his name.

“And finally, thank you, Seungcheol. You are really the root of all of this, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for being my best friend, and introducing me to my soulmate. I wouldn’t have ever gathered the courage to speak to the love of my life without you, and for that you deserve the biggest thanks.” Seungcheol plastered a sympathetic smile on his face as he met Mingyu’s eyes. “I love you, man.”

Seungcheol raised his glass in a toast while his dark eyes flickered between the two of you. He saw you look up at your now-husband with adoration in your eyes. He saw the sincerity and gratitude in Mingyu’s. He saw the solitude in your interlocked fingers. Then he decided he’d rather go blind.

taglist: @yksthings @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae