#i didn’t goof off while drawing this time!!

[kiko-klept]

SPY X FAMILY x SONIC

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[kellycataclysm]

Catch me if I fall

I stepped towards him, my foot sinking deeper into the soft snow, my body pitching forwards. I let out a small shriek as his two arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell further into the deep snow.

‘I had wondered if you were falling for me but I’d rather you didn’t hurt yourself in doing so.’ I gazed up into his caring eyes, a warm smile on his face. He was so beautiful. I just stared for a moment as he held me blinking, realising what had happened, what he said. I burst into a fit of giggles, burying my face against his chest.

Leaning on him, I pulled my foot from the snow, dusting myself off. I looked up at him. ‘I might need some professional help, just in case…’ I smiled.

‘You’re in luck. I happen to be a doctor. Isn’t that something?’

It's already November where I live which means I can officially start thinking of Winter Star (even though my Christmas is in summer which I find wrong on a very real physical level.)

A short while ago, I commissioned my wonderful friend @bungiri to draw my blorbos, goofing around in the snow, thinking to a chapter in my long fic where they were just spending some quality time together, enjoying that lovely quiet in the air after snow has fallen. Thank you so much Bunny! I love how you draw them, capturing these little moments of really tender fun between them. I adore this!

[factual-fantasy]

Happy 1st Birthday Jangles!!

This post was originally going to be a humongous comic filled with lore, goofs, and even a bit of angst? 👀 And then have a funny/wholesome ending. Just like Bibi’s birthday comic.

But.. I ran into a problem. I didn’t know what to get for Jangles.

For Bibi’s present it was obvious what to get him. He wanted a real friend. Bringing Jangles to life was perfect and really tied the whole comic together.

But Jangles? What does he want? 

I wracked my brain for days. And when I finally thought of an idea? I only had 8 days left to make it happen. Sketch the comic out on paper, sketch it again in digital, line it, color it, backgrounds, dialogue.. I also had to make the actual present so that its picture could be used in the comic. All while having a very busy schedule for this week AND while working on Moon Malfunction..

I thought I could pull it off. So I got to sketching right away.

The comic would start with me in a big black blob. Locking myself away to try and get this project done as fast as possible. You know, like a total drama queen XD

Bibi and Jangles break in, and Bibi tries to talk to me but I ignore him. Meanwhile Jangles goes over to this goopy present by the wall. The present has a tag with Jangles name on it. As he goes to open it I do a spoopy jump scare and tell him not to.  Jangles and I then proceed to go back and fourth. “Why not?” Because its not good enough yet. “I’m sure its fine, what is it? What’s it for?” I cant tell you what its for because its not that day yet. “What is that day? And why cant we know about it?” “BECAUSE, its a S E C R E T-”

Bibi then says I need a break. I tell him I cant because I’m running out of time. I tell him that it needs to be posted on a specific day and that it has to be perfect but I don’t know what to do..

Jangles then deadpans “Its my birthday isn’t it?”

“...Yes. It is.”

“Okay? So what? I get wanting to post it on the day. But why all this pressure for the perfect gift?”

I explain that Bibi got a big special comic for his birthday. It had all the bells and whistles and it had the perfect gift. Jangles. And I wanted to do the same for him. I explained that the problem though was I haven’t really written enough of Jangles character to know what he would want.. I then wrote for Jangles response to be,

“Well what I dont want is you stressing yourself out over me.”

..I stopped sketching the comic at that point. I realized that I was stressing myself out way too much over this comic. It was 1 in the morning at that point. I was already pushing myself so hard to get this done on time and make it perfect that all the fun was just zapped right out of it. 

But I still worried a bit. I care about Jangles as my character and I wanted to do something cool for him. I wanted to post this at midnight on the dot, but that would require me to stay up until then when I’m still wiped out from the day before.. I also still wanted to get him a cool present.. But again I figured Jangles wouldn’t want me to stress over this “big comic” and “special gift” stuff.  So I just settled for a break. 

This entire post was prepared early, and posted when ever I was awake enough to post it. All the days beforehand I spent just taking my time with Moon Malfunction and focusing on my schedule. And on the day I’m posting it, I plan to draw nothing. Just relax and take a break from everything. I’ll get back around to all my projects tomorrow.

I think a post with minimal effort and day of no Tumblr, is probably exactly what Jangles would have wanted. So Happy Birthday Jangles! And thanks for the day off! XD

[yxtubers]

✩ ABC's

𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞!

—‘A’ IS FOR AFFECTION (how affectionate are they?)

in public, not much. the most he’ll do is maybe hold pinkies or have an arm around you/on you - but at home he is allll over you. literally will lay his head on your shoulder whenever he can, kisses (esp forehead ones) are a must, too. he basically cannot bear to be away from you when you guys are alone.

—‘B’ IS FOR BESTFRIEND (what are they like as a bestie?)

he’s your boyfriend, but first and foremost, he’s your best friend (corny, whatever). he really values deep relationships with people and if he can’t talk to you like you’re his friend, then he’s most likely not dating you. he wants you guys to be able to goof off and be comfortable around each other. definitely likes to do stupid stuff with you like trying to cook and failing miserably.

—‘C’ IS FOR CUDDLES (how do they like to cuddle?)

you could not waterboard this information out of him but he is 100% the little spoon. he likes to lay his head on your stomach or lap, have your arms around him from behind - all that jazz. he also definitely mumbles in his sleep when you guys cuddle, especially if he’s extremely comfortable. he also loves when you scratch his scalp or back to help him fall asleep. and for you, he likes to draw shapes on your torso with his fingers - it just relaxes him for some reason.

—‘D’ IS FOR DOMESTIC (settling down? how will they be helping out around?)

matt is definitely a family-oriented person so he knows that if you two end up getting married he’d want to settle down with you and eventually have kids. he helps a lot around the house, especially with things like laundry (duh), dishes, anything that involves cleaning. he hates cooking though, but will do it if it’s necessary - he just prefers your food over his. also hates folding laundry and mopping. he’s mostly a dishes, laundry, vacuum kinda guy.

—‘E’ IS FOR ENDING (how would breakups work out?)

he wouldn’t hold any resentment or hard feelings (unless it ended badly). basically very civil. generally i think he wouldn’t go out of his way to contact you if things break off, but he’ll occasionally check on you or ask your friends about you if he can. he’d still hold some love for you in his heart, but ultimately he wouldn’t really want to stay friends.

—‘F’ IS FOR FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment?)

absolutely knows he’s going to marry you some day if you guys are long term. he wouldn’t be a fan of getting married young but if you guys are still together in the future he could see himself being with you for the rest of his life. commitment is a big deal to him and i think he’d appreciate someone who is the same.

—‘G’ IS FOR GENTLE (how gentle are they?)

it’s matt like… he’s a sweetheart. he doesn’t treat you like you’re fragile, but more like you’re something special to be admired. you’ll catch him staring at you all lovey dovey sometimes to which he’d blush and turn away from. other times he’ll caress your cheeks before going in to peck you on the forehead or lips. all in all he leaves feather light touches everywhere he goes (because he knows you deserve to be treated with care and love).

—‘H’ IS FOR HUGS (do they like hugs?)

is this even a question? he may not be all that touchy with his friends or with you in public but if you offer a hug he can never deny it. he’s a sucker for having you close to him. he likes feeling cherished and safe, and that’s how he feels when you embrace him. you are the living embodiment of his safe space.

—‘I’ IS FOR I LOVE YOU (how long does it take them to say the ‘l word?’)

i think it would take him a while to say it out loud. it’s not that he didn’t develop those feelings - he actually knew he loved you pretty early on into the relationship. he just doesn’t want to scare you off by saying it too soon, so he actually waits for you to say it first. but once that first ‘i love you’ passes, he’s saying it all the time. in his good morning texts, whenever he leaves for a meeting, whenever he ends a call. all. the. time.

—‘J’ IS FOR JEALOUSY (how do they get jealous?)

matt doesn’t get jealous often. he trusts you wholeheartedly and he expects the same from you. the only time he would get jealous is if you were like overly touchy with a friend or something, but other than that he really isn’t worried about stuff like that. he knows you love your friends and you show that through affection - he would never in a million years be jealous of that. not when he knows that you’re his, and he’s yours.

—‘K’ IS FOR KISSES (what's their kissing schedule?)

sorry to burst the bubble here but i honestly don’t think he’d be a big kisser. he loves to kiss your hands, forehead, cheeks, etc. but kissing on the lips is only reserved for when you guys are chilling in his room alone. ofc if you ask for one or initiate it he won’t decline - because he does enjoy kissing you. he just prefers to keep that stuff private, so on a day-to-day basis it won’t really happen often since you guys are almost always with his brothers.

—‘L’ IS FOR LITTLE ONES (how are they around kids?)

he definitely adores kids, he just finds them so adorable. kids love him because of his calm nature, and he’ll happily do whatever with them if it means it’ll make them laugh or smile - even if it’s a princess makeover. however, he does get a little awkward sometimes since he’s not sure how to act around other people’s kids, but he’s still an absolute angel to them.

—‘M’ IS FOR MORNINGS (how will your mornings go?)

usually if he wakes up before you he’ll scroll on tiktok while stroking your hair. he likes to enjoy the mornings with you since it’s one of the only times you two can be fully alone. you guys will watch videos or listen to a podcast or something while you cuddle and get ready for the day. he also loves brushing his teeth with you - he just melts for domestic stuff like that because it makes him feel like you guys already live together.

—‘N’ IS FOR NIGHTS (how will your nights go?)

typically he’ll get you guys some food before calling it a night and retreating to his room. he’ll put on a movie or a show that you both strictly ONLY watch together. you guys will cuddle up and make dumb jokes about what’s going on on the TV. this always ends up with you two fallen asleep before the end of the movie, the low buzz of dialogue like a lullaby in the background.

—‘O’ IS FOR OPEN (when will they tell you about themselves?)

if you start off as friends i think he opens up way faster than if you don’t. due to the fact that you’d be hanging around him and his friends and brothers, he’d open up way easier because he feels comfortable around the company that you’re in. he’ll still take a while, but he definitely becomes more talkative before you enter a relationship - since he believes that you both shouldn’t go into dating each other blindly. he wants you to know the ugliest parts of him, and him you. that way he’ll know he really wants to be with you, because you’ll accept him for who he is - and vice versa. he’s very in tune with his emotions. although it would take him a while to feel comfortable crying in front of you (not because he’s ashamed, but he physically can’t cry in front of people).

—‘P’ IS FOR PATIENCE (how patient are they with you?)

this man needs an award for his patience. matt has had enough experience with his brothers to have mastered the art of it. but also, he just doesn’t like the idea of pressuring you. if you don’t want to do something, or go somewhere - he will immediately accept it, no questions asked. if you stutter a lot or just have trouble speaking he’s always there to help you, no matter how frustrated you are. also, this goes without saying, but he’s extremely understanding and patient of any mental health problems you have.

—‘Q’ IS FOR QUIZZES (how much do they remember about you?)

i feel like i don’t even have to say anything. he remembers every little detail about you. your favourite colour, your mom’s maiden name, your childhood pet’s name. he knows what you’re afraid of, where you like to eat, he remembers every important date of your relationship - and any significant dates for you, too. he writes them down in his journal so he remembers but he honestly doesn’t have to. it’s like he has a little file reserved just for you in his brain because he knows everything.

—‘R’ IS FOR REMEMBER (what is his favorite moment in your relationship?)

it would definitely have to be right before you two got together. his most vivid memory of your early relationship is the first time that you guys had a genuine, deep conversation together. you were sat by the pool late at night, both of your feet dangling in the water below you as you spilled your souls to each other. that was coincidentally also the night that he first held your hand and asked you on a date.

—‘S’ IS FOR SECURITY (how protective are they of you?)

he’s protective, but not in a male alpha toxic way. he just wants to know that you’re safe and happy. he’ll always drive you home and wait for you to get inside before he drives off - if you’re out with your friends and you need a ride, he’s there, if you go home with a taxi he asks you to update him so he knows you’re okay. if, on the off chance that you absolutely have to walk, he’ll stay on face-time with you with your location shared on his phone so that he can make sure you make it home alright.

—‘T’ IS FOR TRY (how much effort do they put into dates? special occasions?)

plans dates literally weeks in advance. he always just wants things to be 100% perfect for you because you deserve nothing less. he loves to surprise you with nice things if you're going out for your anniversary or birthday. also he's just a sucker for seeing you all smiley and giddy so he will sit and plans for a month if that's what it takes. one month he couldn't make it back home in time for your birthday (so he said) but that morning you woke up to him cuddled into your side, his luggage at the end of the bed. apparently he "made some adjustments" so that he could come and see you.

— 'U' IS FOR UGLY (what's a bad habit of theirs?)

he bites his nails. a lot. that’s why he always asks you to paint his nails with him; it helps him stop nibbling on them. it’s usually because of his anxiety but over the years it just became a habit that he hasn’t been able to kick. he’s tried several remedies but the only thing that seems to help is painting his nails nicely - because then they’re just too pretty to ruin!

—‘V’ IS FOR VANITY (how insecure are they?)

he doesn’t get insecure often but when he does it’s bad. he’d get really anxious, and he’d probably feel a little stupid for it - he’ll always eventually let you know what’s going on if it does happen. you’re the only person that can really comfort him when this occurs, because his brothers don’t really know what to say to bring his ego up, especially if it’s about his looks or how he is as a boyfriend. overall though, he doesn’t get insecure about your relationship too much. he knows he’s a great boyfriend, and he knows that you love him just as much as he loves you.

—‘W’ IS FOR WHOLE (would they feel incomplete without you?)

again, not even a question. similar to how he feels when he’s without nick and chris (but to a lesser extent) is how he feels when you’re not around. he just feels like he’s not whole. especially if he sees something he knows you’d find funny or enjoy and you’re not there to experience it with him he’ll get a little upset - mostly when he’s on tour and you can’t come.

—‘X’ IS FOR XTRA (a random headcanon about them?)

i think he’d love if you drew on him - and also head scratches. he’ll sometimes just straight up ask you to doodle on him when you’re bored. he really just loves to see what you come up with, and he likes sporting around your drawings like a badge of honour. also if you give him head scratches and have your nails done? he’s a goner.

—‘Y’ IS FOR YUCK (what are some things they dislike?)

he absolutely hates hates hates being messy. sure, he’ll leave his shoes lying around occasionally or forget to throw wrappers away - he’s not a saint - but he always goes back and fixes it/cleans it up. he just can’t stand being in a dirty environment. also, he doesn’t really put many condiments on his food. if he does it’s like… minuscule.

—‘Z’ IS FOR ZZZ (some of their sleeping habits?)

as i mentioned before, matt is a mumbler. he won’t say flat out sentences but you’ll catch him sleepily muttering gibberish before he falls back asleep and is knocked out cold. he also likes to sleep in. he could not be an early bird if he tried. i feel like he also likes to curl up when he sleeps, especially if you’re cuddling. he’ll curl up into your side, or both of you will, whilst facing each other, blankets up to your chins as you fall into a peaceful slumber.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @lollibumblebee @dwntwn-strnlo @st4rgzer @20nugs @thetriplets3 @sunshinewwx @gwenlore @gabbylovesreading @ssturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @mxqdii @slaysturniolo @rainsoakedphoenix @querenciasturniolo

©𝐬𝐭𝐯𝐫𝐧𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐨

[playertale-au]

[NOTICE] Thank you for the 300+ followers. To celebrate, bits of PLAYER!Tale AU concept( regarding Player) is shared

Reposting because Tumblr decided to post instead of saving it in drafts when I'm not even finished. Love you tumblr!  (╯ᐛ）╯︵ ┻━┻

◇◇◇◇◇

A/N: 

Oh, wow! We actually reach 300+ (as of now 310) followers!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ 

Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart, I’m glad all of you enjoyed the story despite my art not being that good. I actually wanted to draw for 250 followers but I didn’t realised we passed that milestone. 

Anyways! To celebrate, I wanted to share some concepts regarding the Player based on my memories, though sorry if there is like a black blotched in the drawing as that is considered as spoilers.

To start off, I began creating this AU maybe 5/6 years ago, on and off, (re-writing or removing some stuff along the way) I had loads of concept art and drawings back in 2019 but sadly those old arts were, ummm, forcedly deleted after a disagreement with someone I trusted, haha. The pain for a FT user in ibis paint. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ

Then 2023, I wanted to move forward. So I decided to give it a shot and start drawing again. I wanted to share my AU (better late than ever),＼＼\(۶•̀ᴗ•́)۶//／／ and also I thought it will help overcome my fear of drawing and start liking to draw again.

Anyway, here we have Player’s design concept (+ explanation):

Version 1:

Player actually does not inhibit Frisk’s body, as they are not trap in the game, instead, they have their own “Avatar” basing on the data and sprites of Frisk and Chara. (The situation is more towards VR? AR? I’m not sure what to call it) The Player has their memories intact.

The story is just Player goofing around in Undertale, until plot happens, but I didn’t really like the idea as I have no clue how to progress the story forward, so the whole story was re-written.

Player mostly hack codes, while Frisk has the Reset/Reload button.

Initially, their eyes didn’t change colour when using abilities. But I wanted to distinguish what and when the abilities are used.

Version 2:

This is where, I decided that the Player actually inhibits Frisk body, though they are not amnesiac. Frisk is like a ghost (narrator?) here. The image above is post-skip version to maybe 1 year trapped in Undertale. This idea was scrap and rewritten due “Chara” ‘s story and I wanted to involved Gaster in the story. (Also, because I didn’t want to draw this version hairstyle anymore, hahaha (  ≧ᗜ≦))

Player has both the hacking and reset/reload abilities.

This version of Player is more uptight and serious.

Version 3:

I think this is like 2nd or 3rd version of the finalise concept. 

Our current Player. I made the hairstyle simpler.

This Player inhibits Frisk body and is amnesiac. The personality shifted so it’s easier for the player to act consistent. This version is more carefree than ver 2, they are similar to ver 1.

First design of the Player (ver 3).

Despite being ver 3, I wanted to keep a bit of the ver 1 and 2 hairstyle but decided not to. Again, I wanted a simpler hairstyle.

This personality is just them being stress and filled with anxiety. A nervous wreck and a crybaby. Cries a lot at the first arc until they pull themselves together. But I didn’t wanna make them cry all throughout the story, if I continued to write them like that, I might ended up smacking Player myself hahaha. I ended up toning down the personality. 

Gaster would have replace Frisk as the ghost (narrator?). But I decided not doing it, because it conflict with the plot. That, and the story would be over much quicker with him around.

Side note: I had to change the relationship between Sans and the Player(hate, confuse, no interaction, chill, idk? etc), a lot of times, but in the end I decided to make him not trust the Player. 

Previously in most iteration, he just hates Player.  I planned to have him to kill the Player the first time they exited the ruins, but decided to go against it as it doesn’t really fit his style. Also, the story would go very differently if he did commit to it. Maybe one day I can make him kill them. In an alternate timeline maybe. ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª

Extras: Player in different outfits (loosely)based on the other fallen humans in this AU. (+ ruin outfit)

There is a reason, why the Player had worn some of these outfits in chapter 3 and 4. 

Don’t worry, it’s not originally the clothes worn by the other children, Toriel made them. She has spares. (Sorry, to the one that find it creepy, when it was first shown, hahahaha)

And, that’s all for now I am able to share, I wanted to show more, but I’m afraid, that’s already in the spoiler territory. 

Anyways-! Thank you again for the follow, each and every one of you are the best! And I hope you enjoyed the upcoming story! 

[specialagentlokitty]

Patrick Jane x reader - knowledge

Hiii could I ask fooooor aaa Patrick Jane x reader where reader isn't one to to goof around rather distant but very observant, like she's just on her head but her head is always running and when talking to her she may come across cold but in reality shes like super dupper awkward with the whole interactions thingy. But aslo very intelligent so on a case Jane where she's on the field with Jane and perhaps Cho (we love cho) Jane, well is Jane, but she finds a flaw on his deduction and just bluntly says so but then she's so awkward cuz dude she's new and Jane has already made a name on the CBI and Cho is there which only makes - @fucklife-or-me 💜

You were speaking to one of the officers who arrived on scene, getting his version of what he saw when he arrived.

Jane and Cho were simply wondering around the house, looking at everything while Jane was rattling things off.

“Excuse me.”

You walked away from the officer and over to the pair of them, arms crossed over your chest as you listened to Jane.

He was rambling on about what had happened here, and for the most part out agreed with him, everything he said matched up with all of the evidence.

All except one thing.

“In his coffee were an assortment of medications, aiming to knock him out so his wife could kill him.”

You shook your head.

“You’re wrong.” You said bluntly.

“How so?” Cho asked.

You walked over to both cups and pointed at them both, looking at the steam rising.

“These are freshly made coffee’s, neither have been drunk. The victim was killed at some point last night we know that, and the murderer stayed until just now.”

Jane frowned a little bit, looking at the two cups before turning back to you.

“So what were the cups for then?” He asked.

You shrugged a little bit, going to look around the home.

You were looking at everything and finally you stopped by a draw that was slightly open.

Pulling on a glove, you pulled it open and looked inside.

“My guess, it was a robbery gone wrong.”

You turned them them and just stared at them before you awkwardly looked away.

You didn’t know what to say now, so you simply padded away to carry on looking around before you headed towards the office.

When you got there, you sat down at your desk to do some paperwork before Cho and Jane got back.

“You were right, the victims wife came home and gave us a list of what was missing.” Cho said.

He set the list in your desk and walked away while Jane sat on the other side of your desk.

He watched you working, you were carefully monitoring what you were writing down, and double checking everything.

He looked at the list you had been given before setting it back.

He’d only spoken to you a few times, and this was your first time working a case with him, and he was curious as to how smart you really were.

“If you were to steal something, where would you take it for a quick turn over?”

You looked up at him before quickly typing something into your computer before turning the screen towards him.

“Simple, pawn shops and car boot sales. Car boot sales are a lot easier then pawn shops but there is two in the area that are pretty sketchy, and only three car boots going on today.”

You wrote down everything and handed it over to him before going back to his work.

“How’d you figure that out?”

You shrugged and carried on working on whatever it was you were doing and he handed the information to Lisbon and Rigsby.

Jane decided to stay there with you and carry on questioning you, he wanted to see how able you were, and maybe get a feel for why you spoke so coldly towards them all.

You were a hard worker, that was for sure.

But there was something about about you, an intelligence that you tried to keep hidden deep down within you.

He wanted to see the extent of that knowledge, and he wanted to see how many things you were knowledgeable.

So he kept asking questions about the case, you were giving you him all the answers he wanted and he was sending them over to the rest of the team.

You stopped talking after a while and simply got up and walked away from him without another word.

Jane watched you walk to the kitchen and he titled his head a little bit as he smiled.

“She’s kinda cold towards people.” Grace whispered.

Jane shook his head as he looked up at her.

“Nope, she’s just socially awkward.”

He beamed and got up and walked away, now he was going to find a way to help you over this social awkwardness

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Chapter 5: Kyoshi- Escalation

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: The spray bottle isn’t enough, I need the horny stick and a jail for them. u_u *posts chapter and runs away embarrassed* TT0TT

_____

About two weeks passed before Kyoshi was able to talk to Yun. 

It had become extremely hectic around the mansion. Hei-Ran was really on Yun when it came to his firebending training. And when she wasn’t taking up his time, Jianzhu was. They were arranging several political meetings for the upcoming months. Treaties and laws needed signing and other such important things.  

Auntie Mui also had an enormous amount of tasks that Kyoshi needed to do. The list was so long every day, she almost didn’t have time to finish them all by the end of the day. 

There must’ve been a lot to do, because even Rangi had to chip in. Unfortunately for Kyoshi, a lot of the tasks seemed to take Rangi to the complete opposite side of the peninsula, let alone the mansion. 

But somehow, every night, Rangi would find a way to make her way back to Kyoshi. It would usually be after everyone had gone to sleep that she would show up at Kyoshi’s door.

Seeing Rangi had become the highlight of Kyoshi’s day-well…night. The only downside was they couldn’t progress their relationship as far as they wanted, due to being so dead tired every night. A combination of the overwork, and the time they spent sacrificing sleep so they could steal what tired kisses they could, would do that to you.

Today, Rangi was in another village delivering a “secret package.” She wouldn’t be back until that night, again. Kyoshi couldn’t help but sigh. 

On the brightside, Yun finally had time to talk about whatever it was that was so important. 

She and Yun were alone in the garden while she fed the koi. In the end, she lied about a frog squirrel eating the lost feed.

“What was it you needed to talk about, Yun?” Kyoshi asked as she scattered the feed into the pond.  

“First off, Kyoshi, I would like to sincerely apologize about what happened with the Fifth Nation,” Yun looked down at his palm. It had been stained by the ink when he earthbent the container to defend himself. “I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that. You even put your life on the line to save me, and it gave me the opportunity to break free of my ice prison.”

Kyoshi put a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “Yun, it’s really ok. Don’t beat yourself up, I’m just happy you’re alright.”

Yun grimaced. “But still…..”

“I’m just happy you’re safe. You’re important and people care about you, Yun. And not just because you’re the Avatar! You’re important,” she laughed. “Don’t worry about me.”

Yun smiled at her. “Thanks, Kyoshi. You always seem to know what to say.”

Kyoshi scratched the back of her head. “I don’t know about that.” Her mind wandered to the multiple goofs she’d made in the past month. “Is that what you needed to talk about?”

Yun’s eyes widened and looked away. He stood there silently for a moment, then he nodded to himself. He turned back to Kyoshi, drawing up his full height. He had a serious look in his eye. “Kyoshi, I-” he stopped. His eyes widened and face fell in surprise. “R-Rangi?!”

Kyoshi’s heart fluttered upon hearing Rangi’s name, and quickly followed his gaze that led behind her. When she turned around, she dropped the bag of feed to the ground in surprise as she saw Rangi running towards them. She was a mess, covered in dirt and other foliage. There was even a tiny branch sticking out of her topknot!

Rangi stopped right next to her friends, and stood at attention like she wasn’t covered in grime and sweat. 

“Hey… Guys…. What’d I…. Miss?” she paused between deep gasps of air. 

“Y-you’re…..back,” Yun looked at Rangi, completely surprised.

Kyoshi’s hands hovered over Rangi, the intense urge to clean threatening to overcome her. “W-what happened to you? What happened to your delivery? I thought you wouldn’t be back here until tonight!”

Rangi smiled at her, “Funny story. Turns out, the carriage that was supposed to take me back broke down. So I most likely wasn’t going to be able to come back until tomorrow night at the earliest.”

Kyoshi would’ve hated that, especially if she didn’t get word from Rangi that she'd be late. She would’ve stayed up all night worrying….. But that didn’t mean she wanted Rangi to run headfirst into…..whatever happened to her!

“So, uh, how’d you get back?” Yun let out an exasperated noise. 

“I took a shortcut through, or I guess it was over, the mountain,” Rangi said matter-of-factly. As if it was the most normal thing in the world. Just a typical stroll for the firebender. 

Kyoshi stopped her hovering, only because she needed her full attention to not grab the firebender by the shoulders and shake her. “You took a shortcut through the mountain?!”

Rangi gave Kyoshi a dazzling smile so bright, it’d make the sun jealous. “Of course, it was easy. I think I might make it my go-to shortcut in all honesty.”

Kyoshi was at a loss for words. Rangi sure was….something at times like this. So Kyoshui decided to just…… let the urge to clean overcome her. She started by brushing off the foliage on Rangi’s armor. 

“Well you should be careful, I don’t want my bodyguard getting hurt,” Yun laughed. 

“Thank you for your concern, Avatar. But you needn't worry, I’m very capable,” Rangi laughed back.

“So what was it you wanted to say again, Yun?” Kyoshi asked as she brushed off Rangi’s pant leg.

Rangi flashed her dazzling smile towards Yun. “Oh, were you two talking about something? I’m so sorry for interrupting.” 

“Uh…..” Yun paused, trying to collect his thoughts, then he grinned. “I got a new pai sho board.”

Kyoshi stopped what she was doing and grimaced. “That’s the forty-fifth one! Get rid of it!”

Yun laughed. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I plan to.”

“I seriously have no idea why people keep sending you those! You have more than enough.”

“No idea either, I guess people are just persistent.”

Kyoshi sighed, and turned her attention to Rangi’s hair. She needed to get the leaves and sticks out of it. “Was that all?”

Yun laughed. “No, I do have some-” He stopped.

Kyoshi picked a leaf off of the crown of Rangi’s head, then looked at him. Wondering why he went quiet. “Something else?”

Yun stared at Kyoshi with a wide-eyed, aghast expression. Kyoshi returned it, puzzled. Then she followed his eye’s path, and it led to where her hands were, on Rangi’s hair.

Is something wrong? I know her hair is a mess but I’m trying to fix-

Kyoshi’s heart sank and her hands stiffened, then she slowly pulled her hands away from Rangi’s head.

The hair! She thought, terrified. The hair is the most sacred part of a firebender! And….and I….. I-

She's gotten so used to touching and caressing Rangi’s hair for the past two weeks, she’d forgotten about how sacrilegious it was to touch in general, especially in public! And Kyoshi did just that, she had dishonored Rangi!

No wonder Yun was looking at her horrified, she basically just stabbed and cursed their friend all at once! No, worse!

Kyoshi was starting to spiral, but found herself being grounded by a soft hand holding her’s. 

“Why’d you stop?” Rangi asked her, completely unfazed, if not a little disappointed.

“I-I-” Kyoshi stuttered.

“Rangi, it’s your hair!” Yun said exasperated.

“That it is, I’m aware.” She closed her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Then she bowed her head forward, offering it to Kyoshi. “I really don’t mind, Kyoshi. If anything, you're helping me.”

If…if she says she doesn’t mind then…. Kyoshi’s heart began to pound as she resumed picking the foliage out of Rangi’s hair, gently. She went on in silence for what felt like eternity. It wasn’t until she removed the final stick from Rangi’s topknot, that she felt like she could breathe again.

“There,” Rangi smoothed her hair out as she stood up. “Much better.”

Kyoshi could feel her face blazing as she turned to Yun. He still looked shocked. Rangi may have said it was fine, but judging from Yun’s reaction, Kyoshi knew they did something that would’ve been considered taboo in the Fire Nation.

Then, as if coming out of his stupor, put his hands on his hips and laughed. “Well aren’t you two close!”

Kyoshi flinched. She and Rangi had agreed on keeping quiet about their relationship, mostly to not cause unnecessary trouble for them. Though, Kyoshi couldn’t help but feel like they weren’t exactly the best at hiding it. 

“Of course, we’re friends,” Rangi said with a smile, but she grabbed Kyoshi’s hand as she said it. Kyoshi’s face grew hotter at the contact, she was getting a lot of mixed messages at the moment. It was better if she just kept quiet. Let Rangi lead.

Yun laughed. “Well, we’re friends too. Does that mean I can touch your hair?”

Rangi returned the laugh, then said with a slight melody, “If you do, I’ll burn more than just your eyebrows off~!”

Kyoshi watched as her two friends talked and couldn't help but feel….that something was up. Perhaps….she should speak up.

“A-anyway, Yun, you said you had one more thing you needed to talk about?” Kyoshi interrupted.

Yun tapped his chin, in thought. “Well, I still need to work out the kinks. But I wanted to offer you something Kyoshi.”

“What is it?”

Yun grinned widely at her. “I want you to become my Official Avatar Companion!”

There was a long, stunned silence. After hearing the eighth croak of a frog squirrel nearby, Rangi was the first one to speak.

“What?” Rangi said in a dead tone.

Uh oh. Kyoshi thought. She was already envisioning a sequel to Rangi’s mood after she found out Kyoshi was going with them to the Fifth Nation.

“Of course, we’ll make sure Kyoshi is trained,” Yun put his hands up in a surrendering fashion to the firebender's oncoming wrath. “You have a real talent Kyoshi, a lot of raw power. I saw it on the iceberg. And I think learning to fight would be the best thing for you.”

Rangi was taking very audible deep breaths as she squeezed Kyoshi’s hand. Kyoshi could feel her shaking with anger. ��No.”

“I think Kyoshi is the one who has to decide for herself, Rangi.” 

Rangi didn’t turn to Kyoshi, she just kept glaring at Yun. Kyoshi….didn’t know what to say. Becoming an Avatar’s companion was what so many people dreamed of, but seeing Rangi’s reaction….. Right now, Kyoshi’s primary dream was just having a happy girlfriend. 

“Yun, I-” Kyoshi started.

Yun put his hand up. “You don’t need to decide yet. Mull it over a bit. I really think this is the best, for all of us!” His grin grew wider. “We’ll be able to spend all our time together! You’ll be able to explore the world! And, most importantly, you’ll know how to defend yourself.” 

Kyoshi felt Rangi grow stock-still. 

Yun clapped his hands as he looked up at the sky. “Well, would you look at the time? I better get back to training. Kyoshi, Rangi, you should take the rest of the day off. You’ve both been working so hard.”

Kyoshi watched as Yun left them, rounded the corner, and walked out of sight. As soon as he left, she felt Rangi’s hand go limp, and Kyoshi quickly caught her as the rest of her body began to fall. 

“A-are you ok?”

Rangi groaned and then grimaced. “Yes, just…. a little tired.” 

Of course you ran up and down a mountain! “Let’s get you to your room,” Kyoshi said, as she held Rangi close to her, arms slung around each other’s waist. Kyoshi half carried the firebender as they walked. 

___________________

Rangi sighed, “Kyoshi, I’m fine.”

Kyoshi ran the damp towel down Rangi’s cheek, trying to get what grime she could off. “Then why did you almost collapse?” 

Kyoshi had decided to put off discussing Yun’s proposition for now. Taking care of Rangi was more important at the moment. 

Rangi grimaced. The firebender didn’t like showing weakness. “My legs were sore from all the running,” she finally admitted. “And exhaustion just….. caught up to me.”

Kyoshi stopped the towel and looked down at Rangi. Rangi was out of her armor, dressed down to her sleeveless white tunic and shorts she wore underneath. She’d also taken her hair out of her topknot. Rangi needed a bath, but Kyoshi wanted to make sure the firebender had the  energy to make it to the bath first. 

Her eyes flitted down to the bandage on Rangi’s leg. It looked worse for wear, not because mountain grime had gotten to it, but because of sweat. Kyoshi grabbed the medkit from Rangi’s nightstand and knelt down by the firebender. 

“Kyoshi! Really, you don’t need-” Rangi started to protest as Kyoshi unwrapped the bandage.

Kyoshi pouted and glared up at Rangi, “Just let me help you.”

After a brief battle ran through her eyes, she sighed and looked away. Kyoshi didn’t know why she was putting up such a fight, she didn’t act this difficult when she first cleaned the wound.

Kyoshi inspected the wound, it didn’t look too bad. Which was good, it meant Rangi was taking care of it when Kyoshi wasn’t looking. Maybe in another week or two it’ll be healed…..

She got to work, cleaning the wound with soapy water, and then applying the salve onto it. She wouldn’t bandage the leg for now, because it’d just get wet when Rangi went to take her bath. But at least the wound would be cleaned until then.

As she worked the ointment in, she lightly blew on it to help it dry a little faster. As she did, she heard a strange noise. Kyoshi looked up, and saw Rangi gripping her armrests tightly, her face red as she looked away.

Kyoshi blinked, fascinate. She blew on Rangi’s leg again. Rangi’s upper body flinched as she suppressed another noise. Her face turned even more red. Then she looked down and gasped.

“Y-you’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” she accused.

Kyoshi didn’t really know what she was doing, but she liked the reaction. She felt her eyes sparkle as she gazed up at her glowing girl, and then she smirked.

Kyoshi blew air once more.

Rangi’s hands flew to Kyoshi’s mouth. The girl lost her balance and fell forward onto Kyoshi, who caught her and held her in a tight embrace as she laughed.

“S-stop that! Don’t laugh!” Rangi shouted, nuzzling her face into Kyoshi’s shoulder as she lightly smacked Kyoshi’s collarbone. It just made Kyoshi laugh harder. “Ugh? Are you secretly an airbender or something?”

“No? Why?” Kyoshi said between giggles.

“Because you were blowing so hard the air went up my-” Rangi cut off with a grumble.

“Your shorts?” Kyoshi reached down and lightly tapped the back of Rangi’s exposed thigh. Rangi squirmed at the touch.

“Stop! I-I’m sensitive right now!” Rangi cried.

Kyoshi felt a fire ignite in her, emboldened by the firebender on top of her, as well as Rangi’s scent permeating all around Rangi’s room. Kyoshi’s grin grew wicked. 

“Sensitive?” Her lips dove for the firebender’s neck, peppering it with a bunch of light kisses, and let her hands wander freely over Rangi’s body.

Rangi didn’t stand a chance. She was puddy in Kyoshi's hands. She cried and laughed and kicked her feet. She was both trying to wiggle away from Kyoshi and hold on tighter.  

After a minute, Kyoshi decided to stop her assault, to let Rangi recover. Rangi collapsed completely onto Kyoshi again, exhausted, remnants of giggle still escaping her lips.

Kyoshi kissed Rangi’s forehead a few times. Then she sniffed.

“You really need a bath,” she chuckled.

“Screw you,” Rangi smiled, breathless.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Kyoshi joked back, then the two of them grew stiff as the words started to sink in. Kyoshi’s heart began to beat strong and steady like an o-daiko drum, each beat felt like it vibrated the two of them.

Maybe Kyoshi propositioned too soon? Even if it was just a joke…. Well, in this case it was only half a joke. 

Rangi, shifted her body. Her face was now facing Kyoshi. Her legs straddled one of Kyoshi’s thighs. “It can be,” she mumbled, hot breath hitting Kyoshi’s neck as she flexed her thighs.

Kyoshi looked down as the beats got louder and more steady. She saw the same steady look in Rangi’s eyes. They leaned in, both of their eyes looking at the other’s lips with heavy intent.

And then Kyoshi felt a new drumming sound encroaching on them.

Footsteps! 

“S-someone’s coming!” Kyoshi whispered hurriedly. 

Rangi shot up out of Kyoshi’s arms. Kyoshi went to follow, but Rangi shook her head and rolled her girlfriend under her bed instead. Both were thankful that Rangi’s raised bed was a lot bigger than Kyoshi’s. 

Rangi quickly started picking up the medical supplies, and hopped around on one foot, trying to play up her injury.

The footsteps stopped, there was a knock, and before Rangi could answer, the door opened.

Kyoshi watched as familiar looking red boots and robes walked into Rangi’s room. It was Hei-Ran, her mother. 

Kyoshi said a prayer, thanking all the spirits in existence that she and Rangi had stopped just in time. That she didn’t have to deal with Rangi’s mother witnessing Kyoshi ravaging her daughter on her bedroom floor.

“Mother, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Rangi asked, a little breathless. She hobbled on her foot, trying to hint at it as the reason, rather than Kyoshi having been the one to steal her breath away. 

It took a moment for Hei-Ran to respond, she was possibly analyzing her daughter. “You came back…..early.”

Rangi let out a sigh of air. “Yes, I took a shortcut through the mountains.”

“The mount-” Hei-Ran began, surprised. Then she recomposed herself. “I….I see. I assume there were no issues?”

“Other than the carriage breaking down, and that I desperately need a bath? No.”

“Erm, right, I can see that. Wait, just a moment, it broke down?” 

“Yes, it should be back sometime tomorrow from what they told me,” Rangi sighed. “Is there anything else you need, mother?”

Hei-Ran let out a harsh sigh herself. “Is it so wrong for a mother to check up on her daughter?”

Rangi didn’t respond, and another long silence followed. 

Hei-Ran was the one who broke the silence. “Get your rest, you’ll need to return to Hongcun Village tomorrow to retrieve a few packages.”

Rangi was silent again.

“Be sure to bring Kyoshi with you, it should make the trip a little easier.” Kyoshi flinched on instinct when she heard her name, but made sure not to move any muscle further.

“H-huh?!” was all Rangi could force out. 

“You heard me. She’s strong and can help carry them,” Hei-Ran said as she turned to leave. “Oh, and do you know where she is? I believe I heard Auntie Mui was looking for her. I know Yun said you two should take the rest of the day off, so I don’t believe it involves work. Just send her over when you see her next.” Then she left the room.

Kyoshi couldn’t help but feel like the older firebender knew she was hiding under the bed, despite being completely concealed. However, she chose to live on the path of ignorance, until new information was otherwise revealed. Ignorance was truly bliss as they say.

Kyoshi watched as Rangi got on her hands and knees and poked her head down so she could see Kyoshi. It was adorable. 

“The coast is clear,” she said with a warm smile. She held out her hand to help pull Kyoshi out.

“I think we should probably play it safe for the rest of the night,” Kyoshi said after she got out from under the bed. “It just seems luck isn’t on our side tonight.”

It was Rangi’s turn for a mischievous grin. “Suuuure. So what should we do now?” She approached Kyoshi with that hypnotic sway she loved to do, and grabbed her by the lapel, and gave her a swift kiss. Seeming more interested in pushing their luck farther rather than playing it safe.

Kyoshi let herself melt until Rangi pulled away. “I think you should take a bath,” Kyoshi said with a smile. Rangi responded with a pout. “I need to go see Auntie Mui.”

Rangi straightened up Kyoshi’s clothes. “I think you should take a bath first, then go see Auntie Mui. I’ll take mine later.”

Kyoshi looked at her confused. Rangi smirked, placing her hands on Kyoshi’s shoulders and stood on her tiptoes as she whispered in Kyoshi’s ear. “You smell like me.”

Kyoshi’s face blazed as she looked at Rangi. 

“Plus, your clothes got dirty, sorry,” Rangi didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, and Kyoshi didn’t mind surprisingly. Rangi started guiding Kyoshi’s dazed body to the door. “Now hurry up, the sooner you get washed, the sooner I can too.” And promptly pushed Kyoshi out of her bedroom door.

__________________________

“Rangi, I have a question,” Kyoshi asked, bandaging Rangi’s leg. The firebender had just finished her bath, and she snuck into Kyoshi’s room a lot earlier than she usually was able to.

“Fire away,” she said.

“Was that a firebender joke?”

“Is that the question?” 

“No,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

“The pun wasn’t intended. Now, what did you really want to ask me?”

Kyoshi finished tying the bandage, and drummed her fingers on the exposed flesh of Rangi’s knee, wanting to avoid the shin that was cut. Kyoshi wasn’t able to keep the blush from rising in her cheeks, suddenly embarrassed. “How do….how do you keep your legs so smooth?” 

She saw Rangi tilt her head out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s just, I’ve heard people talk about Fire Nationals growing up. They mentioned how, despite your hair and topknot being super sacred, you never have hair anywhere else….. Like, uh, how men don’t have chest hair…..” She drummed her fingers on Rangi’s knee one more time. “And I noticed how smooth your legs were and…. Um….”

Kyoshi finally gathered the courage to look Rangi in the eye. Rangi looked down at Kyoshi with a small flush, and laughed.

“D-don’t laugh….”

“What? It’s funny!” 

“It’s a serious question! Is there some special volcanic razor you use or….”

Rangi inhaled a few times to catch her breath. “Ok, ok. Serious answer. Firebenders don’t shave, we just firebend it off.”

Oh, well that was simple. “Is that why you felt so confident about burning Aoma’s eyebrows off that day?” Kyoshi remembered the threat like it was yesterday. She’d also made the same threat to Yun earlier that day, but Kyoshi didn’t think it was a good idea to bring his name up. 

Rangi laughed again. “Yes. But not every firebender does that. It’s a preference. Though, I guess most of us do. You know, less pieces of us to catch on fire.”

Kyoshi laughed and leaned a cheek on Rangi’s knee. “So you guys like to be hairless except for your head?”

Rangi choked on her laughter, the back of her hand flew to her mouth, attempting to poorly cover up a rising blush. “Um, the head? Yes, but there’s….one other area that we don’t usually touch…..”

Kyoshi’s eyes raised in interest, this was new information to her. Something about as sacred as a Fire National’s hair? She better pay attention so she could be careful.

“I’m guessing it’s off limits to touch in public too?” Kyoshi asked innocently.

“K-Kyoshi, it’s, um, I’m pretty sure it’s off limits in public…. regardless of which Nation you’re from….” Rangi trailed off as her blush deepened. Heat felt like it was rolling off the girl which each shade she turned. 

A place that had hair, but no one could easily see on a Fire National, otherwise the hairless rumor wouldn’t have been spread. But it’s also a place no one usually saw in public in the Four Nations. Did such a place like that exist?

Rangi moved one of her hands and rested it on the inside of her thigh. Kyoshi stared, wondering if it was a hint.

Kyoshi was slow to connect the dots at times, but, by the spirits, when she connected them. She connected them. 

“Oh….oh!” Kyoshi exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization. “Oh it’s- Oh!”

Rangi cleared her throat, “Yes.”

“So….it’s also not-”

“I-it depends on the….. preference. Either the person’s own preference…..or their partner’s.” Rangi kept her head facing away, poorly trying to hide her blush, but she looked down to Kyoshi out of the corner of her eye. Kyoshi could see that Rangi really wanted to know her opinion.

Kyoshi stared up at her. Kyoshi didn’t really have a preference, she never even thought about having a preference before. The only thing she knew was that she wanted Rangi. All of her. 

The deep heart pounding started to radiate throughout Kyoshi again, as the fire inside ignited and started to burn bright. 

“I-I don’t really have a preference. I’ve never thought about it…..” Kyoshi could feel a flush spreading throughout her body like a wildfire. 

“I see, well do keep me in the loop, I’d love to know,” Rangi barely made her voice audible. 

The thrumming felt like it was getting stronger. Kyoshi attempted to swallow, but found she was unable to. Rangi was drying the room out with her heat. It was maddening, and it was igniting Kyoshi even more.

No, no we need to rest tonight. We need to play it safe. We already had a close call, luck’s not really on our side tonight. She tried to advise herself. 

Kyoshi stood up, and looked at Rangi sitting on her bed. Rangi looked up at her with half lidded eyes, bearing the same hunger Kyoshi felt inside. 

 Kyoshi promptly ignored her own advice.

Kyoshi shifted her body so it was in between Rangi’s legs, then she pushed the firebender all the way down onto the bed in a fierce kiss. The temperature in the room started to rise rapidly as they both clung and clawed at each other with abandon.

Kyoshi broke the kiss and tried to form words. “Can…can I touch-” Her eyes flickered downward.

“Yes!” Rangi hissed, then slammed her lips into Kyoshi’s. 

Kyoshi's hands found their way to Rangi's waist. Then her hips. Then she found Rangi's waistband and-

A knock at the door. Kyoshi stilled. No idea who it was, because the only person that it could be was underneath her at this very moment.

“Maybe if we ignore them they'll leave-ngh!” Kyoshi whispered, then muffled her cry as Rangi bit into her neck. Apparently Rangi wasn't as deterred by the new surprised guest as Kyoshi was.

Another wrap at her door. “Kyoshi? Are you awake?” Hei-Ran asked through the door.

That stopped Rangi. Kyoshi and Rangi looked at each other through panicked eyes. Then Kyoshi picked the firebender up, and threw her into the closet and shut the door.

She grabbed her night robe and ran to the door to greet Hei-Ran. 

“Yes, Mistress He-Ran?” Kyoshi all but squeaked out when she flung the door open. Despite her closeness with Rangi, she was more than a stranger to Hei-Ran herself. 

“Kyoshi, do you know where my daughter is?”Hei-Ran raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the heat that was surely billowing out of Kyoshi’s room. 

“No, Mistress, I-I've been asleep! And it's the middle of the night, why do you think she'd be here?”

“I see,” Hei-Ran folded her hands in front of her. “My daughter seems to have gotten into the habit of….exploring at night lately.”  

Kyoshi felt clammy beads of of sweat go down her neck. “Oh, well, no. I didn’t know that…. I haven't seen her.”

“I see, well, I’ll keep looking then. If you do happen to see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”

She turned on her heel, and slowly walked down the hall. As soon as Kyoshi saw her turn. She counted to ten, and then shut the door and ran to the closet.

“Coast is clear, you can come out,” Kyoshi said, feeling deja vu.

Rangi was curled up into a ball. She laughed nervously as she took Kyoshi's hand.

“What's so funny?”

“This isn't my first time coming out of the closet.”

Kyoshi laughed and then sighed. “I guess this means you have to leave early?”

Rangi sighed. “I suppose.”

Kyoshi pulled Rangi into a tight hug.

“Hey now, you'll see me tomorrow, you'll have the whole day with me!”

“I know.” But I want you with me now.

Eventually they let each other go, and Rangi left, and Kyoshi returned to bed. She laid awake, too wound up from the events of the day, and contemplated what was next to come.

______________

A/N: Hongcun Villageis made up for the story, I needed a place that was close but not Chin’s village (I know it’s not called Chin during Kyoshi’s timeline, it’s just easier to remember/spell TT0TT). Hongcun (宏村) DOES exist tho irl. It just means “Hong village”? I just chose it at random from a list (didn’t feel like trying to be creative like I did for Hunt jfklajf), but ironically enough, apparently it was a filming location Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon….. I say ironically because I believe CTHD is a big inspo for a lot of Rise of Kyoshi (such as the dust/mist/jet stepping techniques). So it all works out! :D

Also, gdi Rangi you lunatic! Sprinting over a mountain? I wonder how tall those mountains are? Let’s pretend they are taller than a 14er and aren’t the most foot friendly, to really sell the point home. (because you can climb Mount Quandary in like 4-7 hours, though it feels like eternity >_> -1000000/10 do not recommend climbing mountains against your will)

“We’re just gonna ignore how horny these two are getting so you can geek out over a movie, and to bitch about mountains?” Yes. Yes we are.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

That's a good point about it being the official account, not personal. I guess what gives me some sense of optimism is how happy they both look? Like even though they're both actors, Oliver especially is not great at hiding his true feelings sometimes while still being professional (see: that one interview with l*u) So if they were being forced into this, knowing that it was pure 100% bait with nothing good possibly coming for buddie this season (as you mentioned, things can change. but at least to start) I just don't know if either of them would look as smiley and carefree as they do.

But I also agree with you that we as fans often lose sight of the bigger picture of this still being a job and a business. We've seen cast members (*cough* Oliver, again) express displeasure with certain storylines in the past but at the end of the day it's their job to act, promote, and do certain things whether it's what they'd want or not. Fox before and ABC now want to get as much hype, hits, and eyeballs for the show to have success. Of course we love this kind of content, and in our minds it makes complete sense for certain roads to lead to certain ends but that can blind us at the same time.

I also want to say I appreciate you being so rational and honest with your concerns and being a space whether others can voice theirs

my view on the oliver thing is that that’s just how he is around ryan… the two of them cannot stop being little giggling blushing messes around each other (….take that for what you will….)

i also think the video was such a general “we’re back for season 8” and ryan decided to jump in and photobomb, and oliver probably assumed that that take wouldn’t be used (bc having worked in social media for productions before, those videos also have several takes that are examined by someone else before approval) so oliver most likely didn’t know if they would use this specific video or not— and so he and ryan were just being the goofballs they are

and don’t get me wrong i LOVE ryan and oliver content… when its being posted by themselves. its when the 911 instagram, the sole purpose of which is to draw attention for the show, uses them as this pretty thing to bring in likes and comments. so i dont believe they were as much being “forced” as much as i feel like it was a situation where oliver was told to film a promo video, ryan jumped in and they goofed off, assuming it probably wouldn’t be used (and also since it was such a general video not thinking about the buddie connotations) and a producer or someone else was like “this will get people talking” and it just went down the line and snowballed into yet snother talking point… which is exactly what they (the production) want it to be.

I really don’t like coming across as a debbie downer or someone who is constantly complaining about the show, but my anxiety prevents me from being able to healthily engage in speculation and (what may be fun for other people) delulu activity, and i kinda wanna be a place, like you said, where people can feel free to soundboard their own concerns about the show without fear of being told “YOURE WRONG BC I FEEL LIKE WE ARE CLOSER THAN EVER” like a lot of bigger blogs tend to do… i like to try and keep my expectations low and realistic (esp after not doing so last season, snd sesing how much mental stress it put me under) and i want to be able to be an outlet for people whose brains also work like that

now i don’t say this with the intent to yuck people’s yum and say you CANT have fun w spec and being delulu, but unfortunately a lot of bigger blogs get trigger happy and act like their delulu is 100% gospel truth what’s going to happen and it just sets up people for disappointment, and while for a lot of people that disappointment is nothing more than a “oh fuck not again… oh well” for some of us out brains process it differently and it creates a sense of dread and upset and i don’t want to be that person. i still have those moments where my brain wants to slip into delulu land, but i let myself do that so much last season to my own detriment that i am trying to remain much more pessimistic and cautious this time around, bc i have found that lower expectations usually yeild better (or more easily digested) results.

thank you for the ask/discussion, anon and im sorry for kinda hijacking your ask to make a post about the relationship between fandom activity and mental health but you kinda provided a clear stage and my yapping capabilities took over for a second 💀💀

[spliffymae]

shoulda, coulda, woulda, j. kirstein

synopsis: jean loved his job, he loved being a teacher. there was just something about his eighth grade class that brought him so much joy, he loved everything about his job, even then annoying, tedious tasks. he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. especially when one of his students’ mom is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

⚠️ afab!reader, cheating, swearing, smut, cocky!jean, teacher!jean, jean gets possessive, reader is in a loveless relationship.

kio’s notes - if y’all only knew the struggle i been going through to get this fic back🤦🏽‍♀️ anyways— i have this hc of the aot characters in like a school setting, and this is what i came up with for jean’s. also please don’t take any of this seriously, i’m writing this for shits and giggles bc i really do believe jean would have the audacity. MINORS DNI !!! 18+

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ok so how i picture jean as a teacher is the type of teacher that at first glance, is expected to be a strict and cold teacher. one that didn’t really goof around with his class and focused on the rules. he was stern at times, yeah, but if you sat in on a lesson with jean, you would see it’s actually the exact opposite.

for one, he was pretty chill. his students were comfortable to talk to him about anything that was bothering them. he even spoke to them about things that would happen to him, and even try to turn it into a life lesson.

“so this man cut me off today while driving here to see y’all. now i wanna know, do i let that little thing make me upset for the rest of the day, or do i take a breath, shake it off and make the best of a good mornin’?”

((( sidenote: i also imagine him having a bit of a southern accent? nothing crazy but like a like twang y’know? country boy turned teacher typa vibe.)))

another thing he would do is block out a time of the day—fifteen to twenty minutes (usually at the end of the day or during free period) to talk to his students about what’s currently going on, whether it be in their lives or in the world. he wasn’t on social media like that, so aside from world news, he was in the dark, especially about pop culture.

“mr. k! are you team selena or hailey?” one of his students asked, getting jean to furrow his brows.

“selena as in gomez? who’s hailey? and why are they beefing?” and for the next fifteen minutes, jean watches as a number of his students go up to the white board and draw him a diagram, explains the celebrity web of drama.

jean was also a fitness enthusiast. he loved to exercise and get his body moving. he also encouraged it in his class, even incorporating it into his history lessons. he would set up a circuit of educational exercises, where his students would not only learn new things, but even get a little bit of some cardio in. for example, at the end of each week for black history month, jean would have ahis class split into teams and take the photos of black icons from one side of the class, and run to the other side to stick them by a description.

jean even loved the annoying aspects of teaching elementary, like yard duty. he would normally be with the primary grades due to his ability to keep up with their energy, but when he would be with the juniors and intermediates he loved when they’d ask him to play a game.

“mr. k! we need one more for five on five!” one of his students would yell, and jean would jog over and join the team.

and if he was on duty with his friends? oh best believe they’re joining.

“serayah, honey,” jean waved over a sixth grader from his friend, mikasa’s class. “tell ms. ackerman that mr. k wants her to sub in for him.”

but what jean loved more than anything about his job was parent-teacher meetings. why? because he would get to see one of his favorite students, and his favorite parent. you and your son dante.

dante was one of jean’s most athletic students. he was on the school’s basketball and track team, as well as playing for a rep league outside of school. he took a liking to jean rather quickly, babbling on to you about how cool his teacher was.

when it came time to finally meet him at the school’s welcome back barbecue, you were shocked, for lack of better words. jean had to be the most handsome teacher you ever laid eyes on. he was muscular, lean, standing at six feet and two inches. he wore a dark denim jacket with a plain black tee shirt underneath, black cargo pants and a pair of black and yellow jordan retro 12s. he had a single silver chain and two small, silver hoop earrings. he smiled with a natural smirk, his eyes crinkling and creating a look you couldn’t help but fawn over. his freckled cheeks reddening with every compliment he got from parents passing by.

when his eyes landed on you, it seemed as though time stood still. you were mesmerizing to him. dressed in some jeans and a striped dress shirt, accessorized with dior slides and a black handbag. your hair was tied into a puff, small, coils accent pieces pulled out randomly for a ‘lazy effect’.

when you and dante walked up to him, he had a big, warm smile on his face. “mr. kirstein, correct?” ypu extended your hand, to which jean accepted. it was a soft, and now that you were closer to him he smelt the subtle hint of lilac waft off you. you gave him a bright smile, glossed lips pulled back to reveal bright whites that along with cheery eyes, had him swooning.

for the first five minutes of seeing you, jean was elated. but when his eyes glanced down to look at your interlocked hands, and he saw that silver wedding band glimmer in the light on your left ring finger, he felt a dark cloud over his head.

“it’s uh, pleasure to meet you mrs. smith.” jean cleared his throat and smiled, swallowing back the slight disappointment.

you shook your head, “please, call me (y/n), and the pleasure is mine. dante speaks so highly of you. i had to come see the magic for myself.” you laughed, the compliment getting him to look down as he felt his cheeks burn.

“well, dante is a good kid. love hearing his takes when we do history, and his heavy opinion on math.” jean looked over to dante with a teasing smirk, one that the young man rolled his eyes playfully at.

“there’s no reasons why paul needs 40 watermelons, mr. k! we’re going through inflation right now, he bein’ selfish!” your son exclaimed, his comment getting both you and jean to laugh.

before you could dive in further and ask questions regarding the class’ curriculum, a hand on your lower back interrupted you. “there ya are, was looking all over this dump for you.” your husband, erwin, kissed the side of your head as he stood next to you. he was dressed in a black suit, with a long brown coat over him. he must’ve come from work.

“oh you showed up, funny.” you said, trying to keep a playful tone as to not indicate to jean there was a problem. unbeknownst to you though, jean was more of a body language analyzer than tone, so although you sounded somewhat happy at your husbands appearance, he could tell by how you stiffened at his touch that you weren’t feeling it.

“don’t be like that.” erwin spoke to you in a quick, hushed tone before looking to his son, whose mood also seemed to drop at his dads presence. “dante, how’s it going?”

“good, dad. this is my teacher, mr.kirstein.” dante pointed to jean, who was still not over how your cheery mood seemed to evaporate the second your husband walked in.

the blond man turned to jean, eyes flicking up and down him before a smirk found its way on his lips, “this the one you don’t shut up about, huh? i’m erwin smith, attorney at maria rose law firm.” he extended his hand to jean and of course, he shook it with a smile, despite cursing the man internally.

it was at that barbecue jean learned the dynamic of your marriage, and got to see it play out over the course of the year. erwin, as best as he seemed to try, was very disconnected with dante. he had not a clue what the boy liked to do or how he was doing in school. jean gathered this from the way erwin would go on his phone when he would talk about dante’s in-class progress or how he would come with you to dante’s games and meets, but never really cheer for the boy. not like how jean would.

he would either be looking down at his phone for most of the game, or watch with the most uninterested look on his face. and when jean brought it to your attention, you would always shrug it off.

“he’s just not a big basketball fan, s’all.” you would reassure jean, but he could tell from the way you bit down on your bottom lip and eyebrows softened after speaking that you didn’t even buy into your own excuse.

but it was okay. erwin’s silent spectating made jean’s cheers all the more louder. you and him acting a fool on the bleachers whenever dante made a good play. so much so that dante stopped informing his dad and started telling jean about his upcoming games—even asking him to help him practice on a dunk at lunch recess. there was even one occasion you had to swing jean a text, asking him if he drive dante to practice because erwin got held up at work (even though he told you he’d take him).

but yeah. jean loved teaching. because through his job he met you and the two of you had grown incredibly close, bordering on good friends. it wasn’t the most ethical thing in the world, befriending a students mom, but jean knew coworkers who have done worse so he wasn’t phased.

you had noticed how much better dante’s energy had gotten since jean’s arrival. he looked forward to not only games but school now, and was even warming up more to his teammates and classmates. before he was very reserved, only speaking when spoken to. but jean brought something out of him. when he came, he would go stand by the players and help the teams coach. sometimes he’d even takeover. he would dub dante team leader, encouraging him to speak up more. after the first time jean coached the team, dante begged him to be his mentor.

“pleaseee mr. k! you really the only solid guy i got to look up to. you like what i like and you can ball. c’mon do it as a form of reparations! ” dante begged him one day after school, ambushing jean while he was trying to pack up his things and head home.

jean wanted to agree instantly, but knew he needed to speak to you about it. he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, not with you or dante—especially you, seeing as how you were a married woman. he brought it up to you the next time he saw you, at dante’s next game, while you two sat on the bleachers as dante’s team warmed up.

“d said he wants me to be his mentor. wanted to ask you if it’s okay to accept. i wouldn’t wanna step on his father’s toes or anything of the sort.. he also told me to do it for reparations?”

on the outside, jean was expressing consideration and empathy. but on the inside, he was country steppin’ on erwin’s toes, letting an evil laugh out in his head at the thought of taking erwin’s place. not just in dante’s life, but yours too.

you let out a loud cackle at the last part, “no he didn’t! oh my gosh, i’m so sorry bout his blunt ass. but i doubt erwin would look up from his phone long enough to care, jean. it’s cool with me if you want to accept. d’s changed a lot since you’ve been around, it’s been nice to see.”

you were in awe at your son’s transformation, to say the least. it was the spring of the second term, and dante had improved so much in the last couple months. his writing, confidence, and athletic ability had improved, but so had his mindset. he never took school seriously, or even cared about his marks. erwin told you it was just his teenage phase and to let him be, but you couldn’t. and thankfully for you, jean couldn’t either. he was more hands on than erwin, who was too focused on clients to worry about you two.

but oh, erwin should’ve worried.



he should’ve started to worry when you started coming home later. you used to be home by seven to make dinner for him when he would come home, tired from judges and verdicts. but now you’d be home at nine or nine thirty, you and dante well-fed while erwin munches on dinner he bought or leftovers he threw together once he realized you weren’t coming home in time.

he should’ve been curious when you were getting calls from jean outside of the appropriate hours. erwin would catch you on the phone at ten at night or sometimes even midnight. he would question you, but you would say it was either an “urgent dante matter” or that you were on the phone with one of your girlfriends and urge him to leave you alone.

but what really should have raised your husband’s suspicions was when you would go out with jean without dante. if only he didn’t shrug off dante when he said you finished work and went with jean to meet up with other members of the team’s parents. if only he wondered why the parents would be getting together at nine o’clock on a wednesday night.

if he had, maybe you wouldn’t have been at a bar late at night, confiding in jean about your marriage as you throw your legs over his lap, pink crocs practically neon in the light.

if erwin had worried, you and jean wouldn’t be tipsy and dancing together, with him holding you close as you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music, grinding against his hardening dick with his thumb in the loop of your jeans as he tapped the beat of the music against your hip.

if erwin had called you like he thought to, he would’ve pulled your attention from jean, who was whispering sweet words into your ear, going on about how beautiful you are, and how he’s been dying to take care of you. his hand held your own, his warmth making your body melt.

maybe if erwin had worried about the amount of time you were spending with jean, he could’ve prevented that night. and stopped you from beginning what would be the end of your sanctified marriage.

maybe you wouldn’t be a where you were right now, how many days later, lying on your side with jean behind you, laying waste to your plump lips with kisses and nips. he held you close to him, chest pressed against your back and arms around you. he was grinding himself against you, his tip hitting your clit.

“jean,” you whined, a breathless sigh leaving your lips after. he had already fucked you to five orgasms throughout the day—since eight in the morning, the time you arrived at his house (you had lied and said you were going to work). but he was looking to make it six—his lucky number. honestly, your body really shouldn’t endure anymore of jean, but he was fucking you too good for you to focus on soreness and/or tell him to stop.

he tapped his dick against your clit, the puffy nub tingling from the sensation. “fuck, baby put it in.” you whined. your hand slid down to try and push his head down to go in between your folds. “please, m’so ready.” you sniffled, feeling the familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

��my baby so needy, hm? what’s wrong? that shitty husband of yours ain’t fuckin’ right?” jean spoke next to your ear, his breath fanning over your cheek. he continued to glide himself up and down your folds, collecting your slick as lube and ignoring your whining and begging.

“not like you, jean—shit!” you were struggling to pull yourself together. you were overstimulated, you were exhausted, but your body craved him. it had been so long since you were worshipped like this, since your heart had felt so full from jean’s endearing words. not to mention phat ma was loving the attention.

jean chuckled, “you damn right, sweetheart. this right here is mine, understand? don’t wanna see no other man touching you, speaking to you—looking at you, even! i’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.” he snarled.

he didn’t wait for a response from you. he just slowly pushed himself inside, listening to the breath that hitched in your throat. that really was all the response he needed. “jean…” you grabbed onto the sheets to release any form of tension. despite being full of jean all day, you were still not use to his motion. his size was one thing; he was tall with a curve at the head. he he was more on the thicker side, with light brown hairs trimmed neatly around his area. he was about the same size as erwin, but it was his strokes that hit you differently. they were far more powerful than your husbands. they were more determined, focused—not just on his own orgasm but yours as well.

jean smirked, “not like me, yeah. that asshole can’t begin to reach the places i can! m’gonna fuck some sense into you to leave that blond fuck.” he pressed his free hand against your stomach, squeezing on your waist. “gonna give my pretty girl the family she always wanted. me, you, d, and one of our own. how’s that’s sound, sweetheart?” jean kissed the back of your ear with his promise.

you were dying! here this man was, fucking you into an oblivion, loving your body in a way your husband hasn’t in so long. how were you supposed to say no? he was promising you what erwin no longer gave you, what he forgot he did on your wedding day.

it was wrong for you to be here with him. you were breaking every possible vow and eternal promise you made to erwin on the day of your wedding. but in the moment, you didn’t care. jean was fucking you too good to feel guilty for your infidelity. his dick was hitting a spot you had forgotten existed, wiping your memory of erwin and the past nights of passion you two shared.

“think of our baby, mama. how beautiful they’ll look with your eyes, your smile, your fuckin’ kindness—” jean was lolling at the thought. the idea of getting you swollen with his baby. pregnant you would be dependent on him for sure, needing him to ease your sore body or help you with your hormonal mood swings. he would be your go-to. he could see the future you two could have, it was right there. and by god was he going to attain it one way or another.

“please, make me a mommy, jean please. wanna be your kids’ mommy.” you begged him, and he could’ve cum alone at that. you looked back at him, lips poked out in a pout and eyes glossed over. there wasn’t a thought behind them, nothing in that pretty little head of yours except how he was making you feel.

yeahhhh, erwin should have been worried. when he saw you enter your shared bedroom at nearly midnight, walking straight to the bathroom with what appeared to be a faint limp, he shouldve gotten up to ask you what happened….but he couldn’t bring himself to.

he should’ve pushed jean for answers when he ran into him one day at home depot, and after threatening him over your guys’ overly friendly relationship, listened to jean respond with:

“you know what i tell my students about letters, mr. smith?…that sometimes they can be silent. like the word ‘rhythm’ for example—the first ‘h’ is silent. and i’m gonna tell you that the word ‘your’ has a silent y.”

erwin blinked, “what?”

jean nodded, a shit-eating grin on his face, “yup. at least in your case it does. so your wife, is our wife. that body you don’t value” jean rolled his neck in irritation, “is ultimately hers, but for the sake of this argument, is ours—well more so mine since i heard your ass isn’t hittin’ spots i can. so keep that in mind the next time you think about steppin’ to me, alright? you have a good night now, mr. smith.” he flashed erwin a wink before turning away, leaving the man stunned in the middle of the store.

perhaps it was now too late for erwin to worry.

[eeunoia]

Hiiii! Could you write something about Ni-Ki ? The reader being jealous because Ni-Ki is laughing and hanging out with another girl and don't give time to the reader anymore ? (So sorry for my english it's not my fist language :( ) btw I missed you so much!!! <333

OKAYYYYY!!!!

your eyes followed ni-ki silently while he walks out of your classroom together with (random name). they were goofing around and laughing for an unknown reason. its honestly making you really upset and jealous. ni-ki has been neglecting you and spending more time with that girl. since when did this happen? since when did they started to get close?

“why are you looking at them like you’re killing them in your mind?” sunoo interrupts your thoughts when he suddenly sat beside you.

you draws in a strained sigh and messed your hair slightly. the situation is making you really frustrated! you hate this feeling, you hate being jealous!

you tried shrugging it off and soon the classes started again. the whole time you are just thinking of asking ni-ki to hangout after dismissal. you’ve planned everything already. you’ll go buy some food, go to your house and play video games or watch movies.

“ni-ki do you—”

“ni-ki hurry up! we might miss it!” (random name) calls out to him, standing by the door.

you shoot glares at her direction and then glanced back at ni-ki. he stood up, towering over you before giving you a short glance. he didn’t say anything and just left. your shoulder hangs low and watched how they walked away leaving you.

you rolled your eyes and cursed at them both. the next day, you are still very upset. you silently wait for ni-ki to go by the lockers area. it was still early since they have rugby practice. you purposely went to school an hour before class so you can confront him.

you saw him walking the hallway with his headphones on, sling bag hanging over his broad shoulders, hair a bit damp and lips caught between his teeth as he bob his head lightly to the music. you stalked behind him then grabbed his headphones off.

“what the..” he mutters then turned to look at you.

“what’s up with you? why are you suddenly avoiding me? why are you hanging out with (random name)? why are you ignoring me?!” you let out.

he was caught off-guard for a moment before his lips lifts up for a smirk, “what? you jealous?” he ask, taunting you.

you clenched your jaw before pushing him, pressing his headphones over his chest. it didn’t do much because of his build.

“you think this is funny?”

he tilts his head and pursed his lips downward, teasing you.

“now you know how i felt when you hang outs with sunoo hyung too often.”

your brows furrowed in confusion and when dawned you, it took everything in you to stop yourself from smacking his head. he is unbelievable. he made you so upset!

“oh yeah? i’ll show it to you again! have fun with (random name) while i have fun with sunoo.” this time, you showed him this smile that made his face turn serious.

you were about to retrieve your hand when he smoothly grabbed it then made your back lean over the lockers beside you. he rest one of his hand at the locker near your head, the other kept its hold on your arm. he moved closer, making your body touch.

“not a chance.”

[waywardsunlight]

Takeaway from my season 1 rewatch: Season 1 is underrated, I think people don’t value it as much as they should, including myself.

Things that were dropped: There’s such a heavy focus on the Coven Heads/Darius. Darius does get screen time, but it appears that he and the other coven heads were going to be bigger before the cut, but I’m glad we still got Raine, Darius, Eber, and Terra in the amount that we did. It seems that Odalia and Alador were going to be bigger antagonists, Odalia is smiling as people throw rocks at Eda, and there’s that scene in Understanding Willow where Alador seems antagonistic while in season 2, he’s more oblivious. Bat Queen got kinda entirely dropped. RIP Bat Queen. ??? category: King’s age is less clear in season 1. He doesn’t want to be babied and feels small, which makes sense with being eight but also comes off as him being mad because he’s cute. There’s a joke that didn’t age well where Luz jokes Belos has the hots for Eda (OH NO LUZ NO). Hunter was a bowling pin this season. I think Hooty is in on the joke. There are several times where it’s clear he’s antagonizing other characters intentionally, like when he gets King to draw a body for him. I think Hooty is like. Weird uncle goofing off than actually not being aware. 

The Awesome: The Intruder and Adventures in the Elements are INSANE on rewatch. They were awesome the first time but the extra context from the later show make them really special and awesome. I love Luz’s character development, she really came through in a lot of ways. Wing it Like Witches is amazing and I love Willow for calling people out and being really cool. Gus is very sweet in this season but OH BOY the secondhand embarrassment.

[sillygoblinantics]

Look at em go!

Chumderp is animated on fives while Bwion is animated on threes

I need to go back and fix the pacing/placement of Chumderp’s key-frames but I didn’t want anything too serious for this as there’s still more planned

Oh! If you guys ever want to draw them by all means go for it! I got their character model sheets right here!

Life of Bwion! — Synopsis:

Bwion and Chumderp are just silly lil guys being themselves against the world! Getting up to all sorts of shenanigans! Goofing off or helping out others it’s never a dull moment when these two come tumbling into the room! Often times literally.

I may do silly filler animations of these two every now and then as my way of detoxing or taking a lorch break to just do something for me and my boi…

[cringefaecompilation]

(Haven't seen much of MN, so this is a very incomplete view)

The thing that puts me off trying to get back into it is what seemed a lack of character responsibility/consequence - to npcs, and each other. (again, just from first impressions, and a few things you've mentioned about MN)

I find the suspension of disbelief harder when you feel a person realistically shouldn't be able to act a certain way without push back. (Chetney attacking that shopkeeper then being capture dozens of episodes later for it, people being scared when Laudna does something scary...)

All I can remember is Beau getting flack from the other pcs for being rude, but that's about it?

I'd like to enjoy MN, and you're pretty objective about it, so would you say I'm way off base with my impression of it?

this is kind of a tricky subject to talk about given i doubt i’m very objective but i’ll try my best to work it out. for the most part, i would say your initial impression feels like it's very much rooted in early c2, so we'll work from there.

if it’s a “how dare nobody yell at jester or punch her in the mouth for being annoying to soldiers or goofing off in temples! she should have been punished for not taking things seriously!” put off, that gives off vibes of “how dare fearne never face legitimate consequences for stealing or trying to steal!” sometimes a joke is just a joke and i feel if jester was given anything harsher than getting thrown out of a library it’d feel gratuitous and kind of cruel. i don’t want to watch jester lavorre get the shit kicked out of her for drawing a dick on a building.

if it’s a “i’m disappointed that the characters will make super important game-changing dice rolls that allow them to coast by in the story without much conflict that would have been interesting to explore” put off, then on some level it does bug me too, but what am i supposed to do if the dice decide beau and veth should get out of jail free by jester giving the hag a cupcake or caduceus sneezing and sinking a million ships or bringing back a fan-favorite character? i do not control the way the dice roll. the same thing just happened with laudna and briarflop

but if it’s a “this serious rp moment was ruined by a joke or they straight-up forgot it happened or refused to engage with it because it didn’t personally affect them at the time” put off, now we’re getting somewhere. i did notice that post-bowlgate the players basically got scared into being a little less punchy with each other in ways that felt realistic (there’s way more gifsets of beau and caleb being actively aggressive at each other post-molly’s death than prior to it, let’s put it that way) and while i do appreciate a lot of the heart-to-hearts i feel like they can get a little… too nice to each other? some of the best moments in the campaigns are when tensions ride high and it isn’t so "yay look at us we are friends" coded. angel of irons arc you will always be famous!

(will say was horrified when both liam and travis said they might have left the nein 80-90 episodes in. because, holy shit what do you mean you were going to abandon everybody?)

this is a problem with all the campaigns; for example, in campaign three they sped right on past the talking tree the second it gave ashton the info he needed and nobody else got a turn with it, which pissed me right the fuck off. though i appreciate that for the most part we always get conclusions to small things that come back to bite the cast later on even though it has been a pain in the ass watching orym’s arduous journey into class consciousness for the past 40 episodes because of the plot getting in the way of the character moments and i just want it to happen already. i know it’s going to happen but fucking when

the one time i genuinely think there was a moment with an utter lack of responsibility or consequences was how they handled xhorhaus and the kryn dynasty. on some level, sure, ashley had a busy schedule and they didn’t have a lot of time to get into her backstory with it but they really did just speedrun getting the bright queen on their side and the moment they had her trust, away went them interacting with the war or with anti-monster sentiment. which felt double weird given fjord and how he was bullied for being half-orc but when it came to that possibly getting addressed in that context… crickets.

and of course… essek. the guy who kind of ruined countless lives without them knowing it. and i agree with caduceus that punishing him then and there wouldn’t bring back all the people he hurt. i can see how caleb could tie his own struggle believing the lies of a superior to his. but then, it’s kind of uneven. caleb was a teenage boy and essek was an adult man. nothing that the nein did or attempted to do (veth threatening to reignite the war as payment for the hag does not count as actually doing it!) possibly matched up to the actions he chose to perform with no coercion. they were also under no pact to allow him to brainwash someone into thinking they did it with the only excuse being “he was a jerk to essek and we like essek!” and having that total stranger getting his life ruined to end the war with zero fanfare.

there could have been an interesting story beat there with someone they trusted and saw as a friend turning out to be a traitor, but they said no, so let’s throw in a sexy beholder to be the last bbeg! and then we can mug an old guy and oops we only have five minutes left in the campaign, let’s set up a five-year-plan to stop the empire which we just now decided needs to go.

i was told there apparently was a huge argument at the end of campaign two about the ending feeling like neoliberal feel-good “change the system from the inside!” trash and while i wouldn’t go that far, i’d say it’s so disappointing because you know it’s not going to work. you know that you can’t change the system incrementally and eventually it’ll be too much to handle and blow up in your face.

conversely, campaign three’s biggest flaw is how violently it shatters the illusion of a perfect fantasy world and makes it impossible to enjoy previous campaigns without that nagging feeling in the back of your head. it shows the world’s ugliness in full overdrive that even a fantasy world is not exempt from. and that can be jarring for people who were just here to turn their brains off and enjoy people doing stuff alongside blue people and magic and the lack of downtime added to that can make people feel like they're just going through the motions or listening to a boring worldbuilding infodump

so i guess, sure, if you’re annoyed by a noticeable lack of consequences with character actions that either get brushed off as jokes or are never fully explored due to the players’ own incuriousness, then you might wanna watch crit recap animated for mighty nein or wait until the cartoon comes out. if you can overlook that, i say give it a shot! it’s still a good story even if i feel like it could have been better had they tried to take more risks and not be so safe with it.

[fallen-in-dreams]

CHAPTER SIX on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 8,996.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Enjoy. :)

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Notes: It's crazy how long this chapter is. Consider it an aberration. Not unwelcomed but strange all the same.

Anyway. Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

… Chapter Six: Executioner and Executioner. ...

.:.

You shout it out But I can't hear a word you say I'm talking loud, not saying much I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet Shoot me down, but I get up

-- Titanium, by Sia

.:.

Suna was cold at night-time. Colder than she would have thought possible before spending so much time in the village. But the more Sakura thought about it the more she realised how unjustified that presumption had been. Not all deserts got cold at night, but the dust wilderness in the Land of Wind did. She knew this already. So, it made sense that Suna would also experience similar temperature shifts. That, in some way, the two would mirror each other.

But is it always this still in the desert?

Silence. It was like a physical force in the air. That, or Sakura was sensing something she couldn’t understand. But what it could possibly be, she didn’t know. The silence of the streets seemed to be carried on the wind that swept through the village in the days following her outburst in front of Gaara. A peace that she hadn’t expected to feel, blanketed her. It felt like she had permission to be lazy, to goof off, to just be herself for a while, no matter what that meant anymore.

It was… soothing.

Sakura Haruno stood in the threshold of the open front door of the Kazekage mansion, just staring out at the night, hugging herself for warmth. Things had been a little stilted after her outburst, but the past week had seen a return to normalcy. Whatever that meant.

She licked her lips, then bit her bottom lip before cocking her head toward the sound just to her left. He was just outside the barrier that separated him from the Kazekage mansion. Prowling. Like the shadow that he was. She’d noticed a new addition to the seals from the first night here, ones some of the council had also had a hand in. Or at least some seals they were familiar with. Sakura didn’t trust any of them. Less even than she trusted the Root.

But as long as the shadow stayed out of her way, she would leave him alone too. For now. After she’d attacked him in the alleyway, the Root shadow kept a longer leash on her. Whereas before he’d clearly seen her as just some weak-minded little girl that his master had tempered, he was now watching with more caution.

Not as stupid as he looks.

That didn’t buy her anything but time, however. He could change his mind tomorrow and start hassling her again.

On a less ominous note, Sakura had finished perfecting the signs Sai taught her for his Super Beast Imitating Drawing jutsu and found some ink in the downstairs study to try bringing her creations to life. She’d started by trying to directly imitate Sai’s process. There had been some empty scrolls and a few paint brushes lying about the mansion and she’d taken one of each, just to be safe. She didn’t need to be interrogated by Kankuro or Gaara on missing small things like these. But as it turned out, infusing her chakra into the ink, drawing weird stick animals on the scroll, and then casting the jutsu on it was the easy part.

The hard part was not giving up when it failed miserably.

Every failure was disheartening, but not like the old days: the days when training with Lady Tsunade would only spur her on to do better and actually revive the dead fish that she’d been tasked with rejuvenating the first time she ever used her healing jutsu. She used to love the challenge. She used to see her failures as motivation to keep going.

When I wasn’t crying over Sasuke. Loser.

But now?

It wasn’t a natural impulse. Sakura had to force herself to keep going. So that was what she did. It had been slow going, with only the afternoons and night-time to practise, because of the stupid wedding planning, so it took her almost the entire week to get the ink creature to even look like something Sai might have created when he was first learning to do it. And even with her Yang Release energy, she could barely make them quiver let alone move or do anything useful. Sometimes they didn’t even look anything like she’d first pictured.

She thought something small like a mouse, to start off with, would make it easier. And save her patience. And save her ink. But now she was out of both. Luckily, she didn’t need to replace the scroll or paintbrush as they were reusable with every summons, given the ink literally lifted off the paper.

Another sound caught her attention, bringing her thoughts back to the present. To the cool air of Suna’s night. It was almost ten o’clock. The Root member was working later every night. She wondered what he was up to, desperately curious. Maybe if she managed to get her ink creatures working her first target should be the shadow. Or maybe use him as actual target practice.

She smiled at that, turning from the door, and walking slowly in the direction of her room.

Sakura paused at Kankuro’s bedroom door, frowning at it. He’d been the same since day one: a consistent paragon of politeness and familiarity that seemed unsure of how to handle her. She kept walking, her eyes drifting to Gaara’s door. Outside the stifled but still infuriatingly civil dinners he was avoiding her. She supposed it was for the best.

Sakura stopped in front of his door and pressed the palm of her hand against it. His chakra was steady. A rare early night for him. Whatever had caused him to return so soon and retire for the night so quickly, she didn’t know, but if he was as much of an overachiever as she’d heard, he deserved the time away from the stress.

She smiled at that. He’d been worrying himself over so many things. Kankuro had made a point of addressing some of these the past week, during their dinners. This was how Sakura knew just how much the brothers were worried about Temari. She didn’t know if their sister was overdue in returning, or if the worry was based solely on how things out there were faring, but it made her feeling strangely more connected to them.

She pressed her ear to Gaara’s door for a final confirmation.

They’re both finally asleep.

It was time for her to get to work.

.:.

Sakura rushed back down the internal staircase, returning to the study.

When she’d cornered him about obtaining ink under the pretence of writing in a journal a week ago, Kankuro had readily agreed to help. Sakura hadn’t wanted to go to Gaara for it, given his desire to avoid her. That was a whole can of worms she had no interest in opening. Kankuro’s ink had done its job but now, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. So, she took it.

I’ll wrestle my conscience about it later.

There was no way they’d understand why she had to do this. And why she needed access to the refined looking library on the ground level of their home, accessible via the study. There were some children’s books that she assumed one or more of the siblings had consumed as a child and she felt funny at the idea of stealing them. But they weren’t going far and if either of the brothers asked her about it later, Sakura was prepared to bluster and apologise, claiming to have thought it was okay to borrow them.

Likely, however, it would be fine.

The books were invaluable to her work. Sakura had decided to use reference material after the fifteen thousandth time her attempt at a rat came out looking more like a blob of paint with fur. Drawing from memory was so hard to do. But once she started using references of what small animals are supposed to look like, she got better at it. She practiced Sai’s jutsu until she got it down to an art. Well, her plebeian version of art, anyway.

She had initially thought to “borrow” one of the more adult-orientated books, with more mature and accurately proportioned artist renderings but they just confused her even more, when she tried to use them as reference. So simple, easier, and cartoonish animal images, it was.

Over the last week, Sakura had graduated from mice to larger rodents and was ready to try her hand at birds. Since they were supposed to have the power of flight, they made her nervous and she’d been avoiding them. Sai hadn’t explained whether or not she needed to understand the animals they copied to make it work, but she was finally going to try. It wouldn’t hurt to visualise a bird flapping its wings and then jumping to take flight as she sculpted its outline.

Sakura took what she needed from the library and raced back up the stairs, listening for any stirring from the other bedrooms as she silently made her way back to her own room. Heart hammering, books clutched tightly to her breasts, she held her breath, waiting. When no sound was forthcoming, she heaved a sigh of relief and gently opened her door, closing it with a click.

Nobody came at her out of the shadows.

Did I imagine that trick of the light where inanimate objects come to life?

She shook her head and sat down on the bed to peruse her spoils. One of the books was a story called An Ibis and the Oasis and she opened it up, unable to stop herself from quietly reading it out of curiosity. It was a tale about a foreign bird settling in the Land of the Wind after it got lost in the sands along the border. She smiled. It was a book about found family and overcoming hardships. Pretty heady for a children’s book but inspiring. She bit her bottom lip as it trembled and muffled the sound of her involuntary, soft cry.

Kami, get a grip.

She sniffled, skimming through the book quickly, ignoring the surge of emotion and found an image of one of the Ibis’s friends, a small hawk. She imagined it was more common in the Wind desert, and less likely to stand out if she sent it through Suna’s skies.

Sakura laughed at her own presumption that this was going to work at all.

She stood up and collected the necessities before getting comfortable on the floor, feet tucked under her bum as usual. With the book flat on the floor and page open to where she needed it, Sakura opened the first bottle and placed it in front of her. She could only infuse her chakra into the ink a few times before it became useless (what was up with that?), so every attempt counted. She’d discovered that the hard way.

Sakura unravelled the scroll in front of her and got to work with the paintbrush. It took her a few tries and an hour to make the basic shape, considering she was trying to save the ink. She had the shape of the head and body down pat but was having trouble with the legs and wings. They were tendrils on the paper. Wriggly and mulish. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, imagining what the hawk would look like if she were a competent artist like her friend.

Focus, she told herself. Her emotions were trying to ruin everything. But she pushed them down.

It was like meditating. She had her legs crossed by this point, uncomfortable with the previous position of poking her heels into her bum. Focusing on the black of her eyelids, she tried to force all the frustration from her mind and body.

Breathe. Relax my muscles. Focus on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly. Not too fast. There.

She was aware of every breath. Pushing and pulling. Circular motions of it coming and going.

Sakura had no idea if this was even necessary, but she felt a little better. The task didn’t seem so insurmountable when her heart wasn’t pounding in her ears. She almost felt like her old self again. She opened her eyes and smiled, stretching her arms out in front of her.

“Okay, I can do this.”

There was no response from an invisible voice.

Sakura traced the image of the bird in the book with her finger again, feeling the way her hand moved to trace the contours of the animal, how the movement became more precise in some places and freer, almost lazy, in others. She shifted her hand in the trace to mimic the way she held the brush and did it again. And again.

And again.

When she was confident that she could copy it better, Sakura returned the brush to her hand and tried again, on paper. She kept her eyes on the reference image, letting the strokes come more naturally, but keeping the intended creation in the corner of her eye.

That’s it.

She paused then slowed down when she got to the more difficult parts, taking a break to assess her work before diving back into it. Sakura lost track of time, trying, and trying again. It was probably after midnight now. She didn’t care. She looked down and let out a gasp.

It’s done!

She’d successfully made her ink drawing look like a bird. Sakura giggled and sat up straighter, excited. She took another calming breath and ran through the hand signs she’d memorised. The ink shuddered and shimmered before lifting off the page.

Sakura laughed and squealed, forgetting to be quiet as the bird shook itself. Standing right in front of her was an inaccurate ink sculpture of a hawk that still, surprisingly, looked like an actual bird. If she didn’t know it was supposed to be a hawk, she wouldn’t know what species it was but while she was no ornithologist, this was definitely still bird-shaped at least. It fluttered its wings like a newborn bird, then hopped around on one foot. Her face hurt from the strain of her grin.

Sakura’s bird would inspire a rude nickname from Sai, but it was hers. Her surprise was eclipsed by her pride.

Fly, she thought, then rolled her eyes at herself. “Fly.”

It turned its head to look at her and if Sakura didn’t know better, she’d say it was offended. But she just smiled back at it and verbally encouraged it again. The ink bird hopped around the room for a few minutes before deciding to give her suggestion a try.

Do ink creatures always act like this?

Maybe she wasn’t exerting enough control. Sakura tried to focus on the bird, thinking of flighty and strength synonyms and parallels, with no clue if it would even have an effect. The ink bird hopped again, then braced itself, bending low before pushing off the floor. Sakura let out a small “whoop!” of excitement before restraining herself. She didn’t want to wake her hosts. The ink bird struggled to remain upright for a few seconds before finally finding its equilibrium. The bird made no sound other than the flapping of its wings as it spun around and began to glide around the room.

It was weak. It was barely airborne. It was jagged and jittery and all things unstable. But she was so bloody proud of it.

Sakura sat back on the floor and just watched it, her grin never fading. When it finally ran out of steam and collided with the wall next to her bathroom, it exploded, leaving a weird splatter of ink against the wall that looked like a child had thrown paint at it carelessly. She laughed out loud at it.

Almost there.

.:.

She fell asleep trying to make another one. Her exhaustion was a killer.

When she finally woke again, Sakura was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed. She’d always had good chakra reserves, so the irony of having drained herself was not lost on her. The night had been spent trying to perfect that bird she’d succeeded in creating.

After she finally succeeded in conjuring the bird, she’d just let herself slip away. Luckily, the cold air from her open window had woken her up when the moon was still high in the sky, so she was able to clean up without risk of alerting her hosts. Then she’d promptly sat back on the floor and fallen asleep again.

Now, looking at the ink splatter the first bird had made on the wall, she was glad it had not collided with the back of the door. It would’ve messed up the numbered kanji she’d been writing in charcoal, to keep a count of her time in this gilded cage that was Suna. Sakura finally stood, grabbed the charcoal, and haphazardly wrote the kanji for the number sixteen on the back of the door for yet another day wasted in this village then tossed the compressed carbon residue back in her bag.

She stared at the long, messy list of kanji. The door was tall, and her scribblings hadn’t taken up much space yet, but they were beginning to look less legible.

Like I truly am losing my damn, fucking mind.

“Can’t lose what you never had.”

She knew something had been missing from her night of ink creating debauchery. Sakura scowled at her mirage then turned away, ignoring it. Instead, she threw herself at the bed, determined to get at least a few hours of sleep before the damn thing decided to wake her up.

Sleep.

It really was a wonderful, warm and cosy battery. She closed her eyes.

And waited. And waited. Again. For a little bit longer…

Groaning, Sakura rolled onto her back, opening her eyes. This was getting annoying. She still felt exhausted but not tired. She shifted as though uncomfortable, getting more and more irritable. Eventually, she groaned and, unable to drift off, Sakura grabbed one of the ink bottles Kankuro had given her and sat up on the bed, thinking. It was her brain. That was the problem. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she was really supposed to be doing in Suna. And inevitably, her musings spiralled in a Danzo kind of direction.

It’s been two years.

Sakura sighed. Well, almost two years. Her out of village missions had begun several months short of that. Danzo had been so insistent, demanding mission after mission of what could only be characterised as attempts to kill her in the most violent ways possible. Once she wised up and realised what he was doing, she’d wondered why he bothered to send her at all.

Why not just kill me quietly inside the village and then tell people I’d died on a mission?

The end result would be the same and she’d be out of his hair. By that time, she would’ve readily accepted it. Those missions came shortly after a realisation that she was all alone and the only thing she was good for anymore was getting other people killed.

If she’d had the courage, Sakura would have taken care of it herself. A quick slice along her carotid artery or jugular vein and she could bleed out in minutes. It would be a nice and painless death (the bleeding out, not the wound), her organs shutting down as she slowly drifted off. But she was a kunoichi, so a more violent death was on the cards for her, not the easy way out. She just had to make her peace with that.

Still, if she had a kunai right now, the temptation would be there. Sakura didn’t believe she would ever take her own life unless absolutely necessary, like the blue light of glimmering flames of an Anbu about to be snuffed out. But she couldn’t help the dark process her thoughts took when she imagined what to do if she had a weapon like a kunai right now.

No, first she’d go over every charcoal marking on the back of her bedroom door with the blade, carving them in permanently. Her first night here she’d lamented the loss of that possibility.

What next?

She wouldn’t touch the cactus that Matsuri and Yukata had given her. It felt disrespectful somehow. But the bed side table it lived on would be fair game. Chakra infused kunai straight down the middle of it. Or something not so lame as that. She’d figure it out then. Hm. The wardrobe was boring. The rest of the furniture was just… ugh.

I am so uninventive.

But there was a full-length mirror behind the large closet door that she used after dressing. It felt like such a shame to simply drag the tip of the kunai along its fragile glass. If Sakura really wanted to do some damage, she had her chakra scalpel to smash it. No, she’d have to think of something else for the mirror.

Sakura sighed. Not that it mattered anyway.

Her thoughts drifted back to Danzo but, had they ever really left?

She’d been making a mental note of the missions he’d given her over the years, and this was the perfect time to get them down on paper. Fortunately, Kankuro had provided normal paper as well, given that she would need something to write on with ink he had graciously given her. According to her lie.

Is it bad that I don’t feel guilty about tricking him?

Oh well.

She used the pillow to support herself and the paper as she sat back against the headboard of the bed, hand poised to write her list.

First year.

Sakura wrote the few missions she could think of, in bullet point form, leaving some space for things she might remember later. That year had been the worst, because it took her a while to adjust to the way Danzo did things. It was painful, shifting from Tsunade’s rule to his. And so suddenly. Abrupt and jarring.

It was a year of hell, including her very first seduction mission. She shivered at the memory of it, even now. Men were perverts. The whole bloody lot of them. On the surface, it was just another mission meant to devalue her worth, much like the ones that followed. Buried deep beneath that tainted surface lie a bloodied truth that she was less important than the steel she carried with her. Her first time as prey for men and she was oh-so bad at it. At first. Sakura wouldn’t have survived if she hadn’t upped her game, so to speak.

She shuddered again. Ink dripped from the edge of her pen; the same pen she’d stolen from downstairs. It was leaking. She wiped it on the side of the paper absentmindedly.

No matter what they did to her, she kept crawling back to Konoha. Her sick, twisted mind kept retreating to the village. Where else did she have to return to?

“Admit it, Danzou broke your weak arse before you even left for your first mission.”

Sakura had no rebuttal for that. It was true. She’d cracked. Months of pain, mind games and fatigue mixed in with both sensory deprivation and malnutrition would do that to a person. But somehow, she figured that wasn’t what the mirage was talking about.

Whatever.

Second year.

Officially, seduction missions were off the table after what had cruelly become known as the Temper-Tenten-Tantrum.

The Foundation are clever with their mocking, aren’t they? Bastards.

Sakura had been forced into dangerous missions in her first year but nothing like what Danzo had ordered her into during the second. The suicide missions had only been the past six months before this one to Suna, but for about the same amount of time before that, they’d been escalating towards it. She went from babysitting nobles who lined Danzo’s pockets (who were also perverts) to assassinations to joining doomed team missions. All of that diluted with solo missions that she, more often than not, failed due to having to choose between death and a slim hope of success.

The violence was the glaring common denominator amongst them all. But when she factored in the politics of each mission, the goal, and threat level, none of it linked up. It all seemed so random. Could it have all just been a coincidence?

No, no. It has to mean something.

She reread her list a few more times, squinting at the words as she attempted to fill in the blanks.

Seduction mission. Babysit an arsehole mission. Stand-in for someone who was due to be assassinated. Seduction mission. Babysitting more arseholes mission. Actual assassination mission. Retrieval missions. Go get yourself fucking killed mission.

In her memory, and without a list, they had always just blurred together. Her feelings about each mission just bleeding into one big ball of repression. Sakura pushed it all down, like she’d been doing from the start. She didn’t want to remember the specifics. That’s not what this list was about. It was about Danzo.

What the fuck is he really up to?

Sakura stared down at her final list. She refused to believe the bastard didn’t have a diabolic, long-term plan. She was missing something. It was just going to take time to figure it all out.

She yawned suddenly and sighed. It could wait until morning. Her body was finally shifting into “must sleep” mode and no way was she going to ignore it.

The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling into her bedroom, and she groaned at the lost time. She rolled her eyes before closing them to sleep.

Sleep.

.:.

Why was she still here? Where did the time go? Night became morning but still the darkness lingered. Her mind still tittered about useless, unimportant things. Blood. Death. Murder. All the things she’d known before but had never been a reality. They came when she opened her eyes. They stayed when she closed them. Nesting behind her eyelids. In the black of that faux reprieve.

Gaara still hadn’t spoken to her.

She was going insane.

Another day blackened to night.

Why am I still here?

.:.

The room was dark and cold. The air was frigid. But she couldn’t feel that. Instead, she felt the shock of heat that raced through her body. The hot flame that didn’t set her on fire. But it did burn. It seared.

It was trying to kill her.

“Again.”

This time she screamed. Her brittle voice bounced off the walls, magnifying the sound. Each pitiful whimper made her jerk in pain at the sound of herself. Spasms, twitches, involuntary convulsions, and loss of muscle control. She cried as the cold hand of the jutsu came down. Again, and again. Her wet body conducted the electricity.

“Again.”

“Stop!” She screamed.

The air left her lungs and she gasped. “Please, stop.”

“Let the record show the time and date.”

How long had they been torturing her for? A week this time. Strapped to a metal chair in the interrogation room that was Ibiki-free these days. She blinked heavily through her blurry vision as her tormentor leaned closer, his face in hers.

“You will admit your guilt,” he said.

“I—”

She didn’t need to finish that sentence. Her body arched as he hit her; her head snapped painfully to the side.

“Admit it and all this will end.”

She sobbed and clenched her fists, pulling her body in as tight as she could in her restraints.

“She needs another dose.”

Sakura never knew what they were injecting her with. She struggled against their hold as several Root took pleasure in grabbing her. Holding her down. Touching places they had no business touching. Tilting her head. Sharp jabbing pain. Then a foul liquid was forced down her throat and she was losing grip on reality.

How much time had passed?

The next thing she knew, Sakura came to with her interrogator pacing in front of her, monologuing. She couldn’t even smile at the cliché evil bad guy look he had on his face. She tried to open her mouth to tell him. She was about to tell him. She had to tell him he was a fucking arsehole. That the world would be a better place if he sliced his throat open and bled out onto the floor. The words wouldn’t come.

But then he stopped. Her mouth snapped shut and the sudden pressure of expectation left her body. Straps were being released. Rough hands that didn’t care if they were hurting her in the process. She was being set free.

Free?

Sakura let out a pitiful sob of relief. He mistook it for compliance. She almost told him he could do whatever he wanted to her as long as he just let her go. She almost broke down. She almost let him win.

“Is she ready?”

“We’ll find out.”

Sakura fell to her knees, crying out as her skin scraped against the hard floor, ripping new, raw wounds. Manacles released, she immediately pulled away from her captors, scrambling into the corner. The water that had tormented her just as much as the lightning jutsu; it swam about her as she moved abruptly. Out of a bucket? Or spilled from a water hand sign? She didn’t know.

She looked up to see a blurry, familiar face that almost made her smile. An image of Tsunade in her mind, looking down at her, saddened at the state of her.

“I’m sorry.” She spluttered at her hallucination, then hugged her legs and buried her face in her knees. “I’m so sorry.”

Her captor hovered over her.

Danzo lowered his voice to a rasp. “You will be.”

.:.

Salty tears stained her cheeks as her eyes fluttered open. Warmth and comfort replaced frigid cold and hard. She was safe. She inhaled deeply, the bland colouring of the ceiling staring down at her. A gasp and a shudder; she focused on her breathing. There was no panic, but one could never be too careful.

The previous day she’d returned to her wedding plan duties and slept half the time. She was more awake at night, since the first creation of her ink creatures. This nightmare had come out of nowhere.

Sakura rolled over and fresh tears trailed down over the old ones, gravity diverting them into the corner of her mouth. She wiped at them before pushing herself into a seated position. She sniffed and looked around for tissues. Finding none, she grabbed a roll of toilet paper instead. It was nowhere near as soft, but it did the job.

She didn’t want to mentally unpack the nightmare that was more like a memory. She’d had too many of them over the years but there was something surreal about the vividness of the ones that assaulted her lately. She rubbed at her eyes carelessly and tossed the used squares of toilet paper into the bin.

Enough of that.

Her dream lied.

Danzo had never tortured her personally. Except for in specific circumstances when he wanted to either showcase his control or take credit for something his lackeys achieved, delegation and voyeurism were his bread and butter. His lackeys were the ones with the honour that came with tormenting her. Danzo had been there at first but quickly realised she would not give so easily. He was a busy man. He had a village to run. And a nation to squeeze until he could convince the daimyo to attack the others.

He couldn’t waste time torturing an insignificant kunoichi, even if she had been in Tsunade’s inner circle.

No, it was Root shadows that used lightning jutsu conducted through a body of water like a full bucket to make her scream. It was their favourite weapon of choice, for the most part. It was like electroshock therapy – an outdated and barbaric practise she’d heard about in a medical scroll about forbidden techniques where chakra application was optional. The idea of which was to trigger a brain seizure and “cure” the patient of any number of things. She supposed the Root thought they were curing her of loyalty to Tsunade.

Didn’t fucking work.

Not really. It just made her not care anymore.

Sakura fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm her breaths. The tears were dry, and she probably looked like shit, so she forced herself to get up and wash her face in the bathroom. The face that stared back at her in the clear and clean mirror above the sink was hollow and pale. She tried a strained smile, and it just made her look creepy. She rubbed her fingers gently over her face, outlining her cheekbones and grimaced.

I used to be pretty.

And she used to care about that.

But now?

Sakura had a lower opinion of herself than she used to, it was true. But still, she couldn’t help the resurgence of the vanity that had consumed her all those years ago. Sure, she looked like a shell of her former self, but she could still trace the high cheekbones with her forefinger, the surprisingly still soft feel of her skin; her face framed by her pink hair.

I’m still pretty.

Just hidden under a thick film of perpetual blood and grime, no matter how much she scrubbed herself in the shower. And her eyes only sparkled now when they were wet with tears or blood.

What Gaara must think of me.

Of the girl he thought of as a future bride.

She scoffed.

I’m an idiot for worrying about that. And so is he if he does care.

It was easy to mock Gaara, and herself, in her head. The idea that he’d care if she was still pretty, was ridiculous. And the fact that she did still care what she looked like was stupid. But if the Kazekage came to her right now and told her she was pretty, said she was beautiful, her heart would clench. Her smile would be genuine. Hell, she’d likely blush like a genin getting attention from their academy crush. It was because she really did like him…. No, respect him. He and Kankuro both reminded her of what she’d lost, but in a longing and familiar way, not grieving or remembering painful things. But somehow, she couldn’t picture what her reaction would be if the older brother told her he found her attractive. She mused on that. It made her wonder what would happen if she stayed in Suna. With Gaara.

Without marrying him… of course.

Her heart pained at the thought. First, she needed to get rid of the shadow and kill Danzo.

Dangerous ideals.

She shook herself of these painful thoughts. No. She was better off alone. Trusting anyone other than herself had been unsafe for over two years and that wasn’t about to change so easily.

Sakura ran her hands under the running water and washed her face again. And again. And again. When she finally turned the tap off, she could suddenly hear the rain her subconsciousness had smelled through the open window ten minutes ago.

It’s not raining.

It couldn’t be. That was crazy. Rain in Suna? It defied everything she knew about the region at this time of year. Though it wasn’t unheard of, it…. No, she had no idea how to finish that train of thought. This was just nuts.

Maybe Suna’s caught my crazy.

Sakura cracked opened her bedroom window and was immediately met with the pitter-patter of what looked and sounded like a cloudburst, not to mention smelled of dust and rain. She couldn’t help the genuine smile and licked her dry lips.

It was still nighttime. Stars still twinkled down at her weakly through the drizzly distortions. Lights that would be gone in a few hours when the sun finally rose. Giving into temptation, she pushed the window the rest of the way open and stepped onto the frame, pulling herself out and up onto the roof. Illuminated by what little stars could be seen behind the cloudburst and the bright moon that even the darkest cloud couldn’t hide, she made her way to the roof of the Kazekage’s mansion.

A flat surface on top of a circular body.

Sakura smiled to herself as she lifted her face to catch the rain, arms stiffly by her side. These sun showers were rare in Suna, apparently. It would be gone in a few minutes, so she waited it out, eyes closed and smile wide. It was almost meditative. It was calming. It was unobtrusive.

It was dangerous.

Her only warning was a shift in the air, like that rushing weight at sudden altitude changes, and her ears popped. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she turned quickly on the spot. The air changed around her. The shimmering of unfamiliar chakra. She’d missed it at first, so lost in her bliss. Her stupid moment of weakness.

How had he broken the barrier jutsu?

I let my guard down in enemy territory. Dumb.

But who was the real enemy?

Now, her blood boiled. She could hear her heart racing in her ears as her attacker fell on her from above. Men typically had a physical superiority, but with her chakra enhanced strength, she easily flipped him flat on his back. Heavily. It wasn’t enough to break anything since she’d reacted with surprise rather than strength. The man immediately rolled away from her and climbed to his feet.

Sakura sized him up.

Covered completely in black, like a cliché ninja and not wearing any kind of typical battle gear. His face was hidden behind a skin-tight mask, complete with a respirator, like the shinobi in the rain village wore. They all hid their faces, there, even if they didn’t always wear the mouthpiece. Sakura had gone head-to-head with enough of them to know it was just a thing they did. They wore masks to deflect the sun or water from their jutsu.

Water.

Sakura resisted the urge to look up into the sky again, keeping her eyes firmly on the enemy in front of her, the reminder of her blundering into the jutsu wet and soggy on her skin. She was soaked to the bone now. Her opponent shifted into a more offensive stance and readied a kunai. Meanwhile, Sakura was unarmed. Technically speaking.

Lightning chakra sizzled its way onto his blade, and she stiffened. There had to be some kind of trick because the rain didn’t conduct it into him. He nodded curtly. “Hi, pinky.”

Unfamiliar and muffled voice. Unfamiliar and subtle chakra. No headband, despite his attempt to copy Rain ninja clothing. He clearly wasn’t an official visitor to the village hidden in the sand.

I can kill him.

As he moved, Sakura reacted instinctively. She couldn’t touch the kunai directly and erred on the side of caution that he might be able to conduct the lightning through the air if she got too close. What she did was kick up toward his elbow, forcing him to change the angle of his approach. She needed him to open himself enough to lay her hands on his chest or weaker arm. Somewhere.

When he inevitably dodged her attack, she kicked out in front of her, toward his shin. He evaded that too. He was fast.

I’m faster.

It wasn’t just because of her evasion training with Tsunade. Two years of having to be faster or deader than her opponent had honed her avoidance skills even further. Something she had become a master at in other areas of her life too, truth be told. But Sakura had no lightning or wind techniques under her belt to directly combat the enemy jutsu, despite the expansion of her repertoire over the last few years.

Does he know this already?

She channelled chakra to her feet for a push of speed and darted to the side as her assailant lunged toward her. He shifted direction but she was already behind him, shoving her fist into his back. She could feel the give of his spine immediately, but her intent wasn’t to paralyse him, not yet. The mixed nerves along the spine were both fibres that transmitted sensory and motor control impulses between the spinal cord and the rest of the body. Any medic worth their salt knew how to dampen them just enough to hamper movement without stopping it completely.

She wanted a challenge, but not to be completely overwhelmed. And the sick, twisted knowledge that she could take his motor functions from him at any time.

This is not something I’d have even considered doing before Danzo.

Ignoring that line of thought, Sakura grabbed a hold of her would-be assassin’s shirt and spun him around. He used the momentum to lash at her again and she felt the crackle of his lightning enhanced kunai as it missed her by mere inches, but angry sparks of searing heat lashed out and grazed her face and neck. Wincing and gasping, she ignored the pain and grabbed his wrist mid-air, then squeezed. Her super strength broke all eight bones in his wrist and a handful of more in the rest of his hand. She also touched his back with her fingertips, severing some of the nerves in his spinal column permanently.

He fumbled, letting out a soft cry, dropping his weapon. Sakura caught it, the lightning crackling against her skin before disappearing. She held tighter to it, gripping the handle even more firmly once it full dissipated. It felt hot, pulsing through the palm of her hand. Third degree burns did that.

Luckily, it was still raining.

The man had to have another weapon, right? She decided not to drag this out by letting him dig into his ninja pouch, even in his weakened state. Maintaining her hold on his wrist, Sakura infused her own chakra into her new kunai and shoved it into his eye. His screams were muffled by the rain, but she heard him loud and clear. It made her smile, twisting her mouth into the most genuine look of excitement she’d felt her face stretch into for a long time. The brain was behind the eye, but Sakura knew that this kind of stab wound was rarely, immediately fatal. He thrashed as much as he could with limited motor functions, falling to the ground. She pounced on him, using her super strength to keep him from flailing too much.

What am I doing?

She wasn’t sure. The missions and battles of times before Danzo’s take over were hazy in her brain, so much so that she barely remembered how to fight without causing massive, bodily trauma. It was what the Root commander who’d groomed her had pounded into her.

Don’t go for the quick kill unless time is an issue.

Quick, painless kills were for weak shinobi. And she was supposed to be pretending to be strong. She looked down at her enemy, helpless underneath her as she held him against the rooftop, her knowledge of anatomy making him as useless as a genin under her power. As easily as her enhanced chakra strength could on its own. His pitiful attempts to summon more lightning chakra without use of his broken hand and no way of getting her off him reminded her of herself when those kinds of jutsu were once used to fry her into compliance.

Pitiful.

And there it was. Sympathy. Guilt. For what she’d just done to him.

Maybe I’m still me. A little bit.

She almost wrenched herself away from him. But that would give him leeway she couldn’t afford.

Sakura didn’t need to rip him. She didn’t need to pull him apart. Or even take her time showing him his insides before she finally ended things. No, he wasn’t her true enemy. The ones who tricked him into coming here and getting himself killed. She would save her most inventive torture for them. She took in the would-be assassin’s wide eyes, panicked look, trying to imagine him gasping into that mouthpiece, struggling to breathe. It was enough that he knew this was coming.

Switching her new kunai to the hand still holding him down, she concentrated chakra into the fingertips of her other hand and formed a chakra scalpel. With a screech, Sakura thrust her weaponised hand into her assailant’s throat. Blood splattered over her extremities, and she felt the warm stickiness of it on her face. The would-be assassin gasped, coughing, and spraying more blood onto her person. It didn’t take long for him to fall dead silent.

If he was capable of choking on his own blood right now, it would be quite the sight.

Sakura fell backwards as though in shock, an iron grip on the kunai even as it shook in her hand. Even as she recognised this weapon had been meant to kill her. She couldn’t let go of it. She had torn it from him. Tormented him. It was hers now.

The rain quickly died, and she suddenly knew why. She already knew why. But now she knew.

Blood dripped from the blade, fighting against the weight of lingering moisture from the rain jutsu. Blood dripped from her fingertips.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Like a faucet. Like a lifeline. And her head was throbbing.

She sighed. The tension in her body released and she let out a low, bark of a laugh. Bum on the wet ground and blood on her person despite the fact that it had just been raining and she suddenly found the whole thing hilarious. She looked up at the night sky as it started to lighten before her eyes. Was it closer to dawn than she’d realised? The stars were twinkling ever so faintly, the drizzly distortions no longer blocking them. They were saying goodnight. Goodbye.

Don’t look at the body.

Sakura climbed to her feet as she sensed the familiar chakra. She should’ve sensed it before. Sensed him. She glanced at Gaara in her peripherals, realising he’d been watching nearby. He was so stoic. So seemingly disconnected. But the slow blinking made her wonder if he was forcing his apparent calm. She knew some of his tells already.

He doesn’t twitch. He flows. He doesn’t have any kind of jerky movements.

But she felt oddly composed under his intense stare.

“He doesn’t trust you, idiot.”

She couldn’t see her mirage. Perhaps it was hiding behind the blotch in her vision. Or the body of her kill.

“So instead of killing that stupid shadow that’s been taunting you, practically begging for it, you kill a random assassin instead?”

She really didn’t understand its confusion. She could kill this man. It was the perfect situation to let out her frustrations. Nobody would bat an eye at his death. Unless they were witness to it, maybe. Sakura glanced at Gaara again.

“His blood won’t wash off your skin so easily. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Oh, so many things.

She sighed. Quietly, Gaara still watched her, perhaps waiting to see what she would do next. She cocked her head toward him, much like he did when detecting his Anbu in the area. The move got a reaction out of him; he shuffled his feet. Elegantly, she might add. Maybe he was disgusted by what she’d done. The man who used to literally house a demon. But he hadn’t interfered. She realised now, outside of her blood haze, that he’d been there the moment the would-be-assassin had made their move.

And he trusted me to handle it… right?

That or he just didn’t care.

Or the rain kept him and his sand at bay.

Or both. Or neither. Did he care?

These thoughts were dangerous and wishful thinking. There was no need to look further into this. Her heart was racing as her head began to pound loudly in her ears. Gripping her new kunai tighter in her fist, Sakura turned and walked away, still not looking at the body.

He watched her go.

.:.

Madness had many faces. Many guises. And tonight, it wore the mask of Sakura Haruno.

Gaara had never seen anyone he considered an ally look so bloodthirsty. Not for a long time. He knew the madness that had wrangled her. He’d seen it in the mirror for most of his life. He understood it. But where was her demon? It wasn’t a tangible tormentor or voice in her ear, like his had been. Not from what he could tell. But it was there, all the same.

Danzo.

Of course. It would all be tracked back to him. She wasn’t like this before.

It started with her ragged appearance on arrival to Suna. Then that scream the night he’d sent his third eye to check on her. And the state of her afterward. And it was in her everyday demeanour, not to mention how she would casually trauma dump on him as though it wasn’t a big deal to be the victim of sexual assault on missions, let alone the blasé way she’d talked about hurting others.

And then, what she’d done to that would-be assassin…

It wasn’t like a ninja’s life was flowers and rainbows before this Cold War but at least then there had been a consensus that bodily autonomy was to be respected, and that those who violated it were vile scum. Worse than scum.

Now all bets are off.

Gaara ran a hand over his face as he stared at the dead body of the attacker. The rooftop was still wet and bloodied from his jutsu and death throes. A real rain would have to come to clean it. He wasn’t going to put it on official record that it needed to be done manually. Gaara sighed, narrowing his eyes at the lifeless invader. He knew from looking at the man that he was meant to give the impression he didn’t come from any particular village, despite his similarities to rain ninja. He’d been Kazekage for seven years and knew all the darkest secrets of his beloved village. Even the ones the council had tried to hide from him.

Gaara didn’t react as an Anbu dropped silently next to him. The masked ninja released a scroll and moved the body into it, before nodding to his Kazekage and disappearing just as wordlessly. He’d be taking it to Baki. He wouldn’t be mentioning this. Ever. This would be their secret.

Hidden villages and their secrets.

And he was a party to them. It never sat well with him, but what else could he do? So many secrets and enemies. He glanced up at the sky, realising belatedly that the Root shadow was nowhere to be found. He’d been absent this whole time.

He probably knows, though, the sneak.

Gaara sighed and teleported himself into his home office, where he’d been when he sensed the invading chakra in the first place. The cracking of the seal. But there was no focusing on his late-night work after everything he’d just witnessed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fight on the roof of his home. He sank heavily into his chair, trying to process everything.

Going after the protégé of the Fifth Hokage was a mistake, no matter how much she’d been leashed these past years. Of that, even Gaara understood. The least of the would-be assassin’s transgressions had been to force his way through the sealed barrier. At least the Root member had the decency to wait until he could figure out how to do it quietly. This had been brazened, seemingly with a presumption that nobody was going to notice such brute force.

Assuming he was working alone.

Which Gaara didn’t believe for a minute. It had been a foreign shinobi. There were several possible reasons for the attempted assassination, and many more that he was supposed to believe were the true intentions of this attack. In reality, it was likely supposed to be an attack on Suna’s security more than anything else, but the fake implication? His first guess was that the façade was meant to make it look like someone was pissed about this sham of an engagement between himself and Sakura. That was the most obvious intention, in his opinion.

Nice and cut dry.

The most suspicious part was how the Root shadow had been absent during the attack. Gaara presumed that the man wanted through the barrier, but he had not come running the moment it was breeched. So, either he really was just deliberately fucking with everyone’s nerves every time he skirted its boundary, or he wanted in under the radar. For a more quiet and underhanded purpose.

To kill Sakura?

That would be Gaara’s first guess. Sneak in under the seal then kill her, making it look like negligence on Suna’s part. Perhaps as an excuse for open war. Or whatever Danzo was really after. But there was no way a single shinobi, no matter how skilled they were with barrier jutsu, could break through it on their own. Unless they had enormous chakra reserves like Naruto…

It was further proof that someone in the council was working against Suna.

Gaara slumped over, resting his forehead on his desk in an out of character show of frustration. What it all it came down to was, the fact that Sakura was not safe in Suna. Or anywhere else. He needed to beef up security and keep a closer eye on her himself. Then there was the matter of her mental instability. She was worse off than he had realised. And Gaara still had no idea what to do about it.

In all honesty… her brand of madness scared the hell out of him.

.:.

[marzipanloves]

💐 for you and MK? :3c

(EEE TYSM JJ♡!!!)

💐 — someone's recieving flowers; write about either f/o or s/i giving the other flowers! what's the occasion, or is it just because?

Another day, another set of deliveries and hope that no one attacks the city while he’s at it. MK breathes in the wind whipping past his face as he drives his delivery cart down the busy streets, relishing the smell of fresh air, the warm noodles in the to-go bags he holds onto and the rubber of the tires as he screeches a rather tight turn down a corner he nearly forgot to take.

He heaves a sigh of relief as he pulls the wheel steady again, chuckling nervously before he finds the place his phone dictates as the last order of this bunch.

He stares down at his phone for the destination before glancing up, eyes widening as he sees the bright and colorful array of flowers and plants all around the front of the building.

“Woahh…” He stares as he parks the cart and grabs the bag, walking in the front and hearing the chime of the door.

“Pigsy’s Noodles! Got your delivery!” He calls out as he steps in, immediately overwhelmed with sweet, floral scents.

“Oh! That was really fast! Thank you!” The shop clerk waves him down, smiling happily as he places the bag on the desk. He feels pride as he sees them open the bag and breathe in the warm scent of the food with a satisfied smile.

“Well, I pride myself on quick return time. Welp! Gotta head back!” MK turns on his heel but is quickly stopped as the clerk calls out again.

“Wait! Aren’t you that Monkie Kid guy?” they ask, head tilting. A somewhat sheepish smile lights MK’s face as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, aha…yeah that’s me.” He feels odd still being recognized so regularly but the clerk just gives another big smile.

“I thought you looked familiar! Tell you what, pick out a bouquet, on the house!”

“What? Well uh, I don’t really…” he trails off as he looks around at all the different types and colors bundled around every shelf and corner of the shop.

“Hey, don’t worry about it! Don’t’cha have someone you could gift to? Friend, family, partner?”

The clerk’s insistence makes it dawn on him that, oh. Yeah he does have someone now. He’d been so focused he hadn’t thought about it, but as it’s mentioned he suddenly feels a happier smile and warmer flush to his face as he thinks about his boyfriend. Mars, so sweet and kind, they’d given him tons of gifts in the past, even before they were dating, usually just extras of whatever they decided to bake or buy. He’d never given thought to things like this, flowers or candy in a romantic gesture, but now that they mention it…

“Yeah! Yeah I’ll totally get some.” He turns with a grin before it falters, suddenly aware he’s a bit out of his depth with the uncountable number of types around him, “Uhh….you got any suggestions?”

--

Mars hummed to the music playing in their headphones, glancing around the screen in front of them as they traced their stylus along their tablet, filling the once blank canvas with small doodles and sketches.

They let their whole focus drift to drawing, making another small doodle of their boyfriend, MK, after seeing footage of him blowing up online after he showed up in another of their friend’s livestreams, watching him somewhat sheepishly hold the phone and talk to the viewers. They couldn’t help but stare every time he was in frame, grinning ear to ear, noticing how his face scrunched when he laughed or how small tears pricked in his eyes as he was left in a small laughing fit as he and Mei goofed around in her garage.

They didn’t even notice how their feet swung a little faster and excitedly every time they heard his voice.

They also didn’t notice the thumping sound coming from another room, at least not at first but the second and third times they did, jumping in surprise as it grew a little louder. Somewhat anxiously they took their headphones off and walked around, trying to listen for the source of the sound before it happened again, making them realize it was some kind of clunky knocking at their door.

They hesitated at first, unsure if the odd clunky knocks were someone else in the apartment building or if someone just accidentally ran into it, but those thought were quickly dismissed as they heard a familiar voice.

“Mmph! Mars! Babe, you home?!”

Mars grinned as they nearly tripped over themself running to the door, quickly opening it only to jump back as they opened to see a giant bundle of different colored flowers waiting for them.

After a moment they heard more sputtering before their boyfriend’s face appeared above, stepping on his toes with a happy grin.

“MK? What’s all this?” They asked with a slight chuckle at the absurd size of the bundle he held, moving out of the way so he could come inside.

“Well,” MK grunted as he carefully stepped in, turning to the side so he could see them better without the flowers directly in front of him, “I had a delivery at a flower shop and they recognized me as the Monkie Kid! And, well, they said I could pick out whatever I wanted! For you know, saving the city a ton and stuff.” He grinned before looking down at the bundle and back at them with a sheepish chuckle.

“I guess I kinda went overboard. I couldn’t help it! I didn’t know which ones I should get! But the shopkeeper kept recommending stuff for love and appreciation and stuff, and I know you like purple and-- well...” he gave a small shrug with a chuckle at the realization of how silly he probably looked.

Mars laughed happily at the explanation and his sudden cute nervousness as he tried to find a place to set the bundle down before they stepped in and helped bring it to a table.

“They’re all so beautiful! I can see why it was hard to pick.” They smiled at him, and with his hands finally empty they quickly ran into his arms, squeezing him tightly which he happily returned, nuzzling his head against theirs.

“You like them?”

“I love them! I’ve never gotten so many! And I don’t usually get many to begin with.”

“Really?” MK pulled back, smile faltering at their confession. “But—you’re so cool and nice and awesome and stuff!”

Mars chuckled at the puppy eyes he gave but just leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“And so are you, especially for doing all this. Thank you, MK.”

His smile quickly returned as he pulled them into another hug, tightly holding them in his arms, shutting his eyes and enjoying the warmth in their voice and their embrace.

“You deserve it.”