#man has more or less been killed and resurrected

[wingedarrows]

Been a WHILE since I've drawn HK au gaster. I do still love him very much tho. Bald faced hornets my beloved.

[sanguineterrain]

Jason is definitely the type to go feral over his best friend he hasn't seen in years. Hear me out: he's alive again, and not only that, but he's huge. Strong. People are afraid of him. So the reader is in town, walking the streets, and they meet again, maybe when he protects them as Hood. And reader is ecstatic to see Jason again of course and he's the same but also, all he can think is minemineminemine and I WANT YOU. mans is down horrendous for his sweet best friend that he missed and he's been in love with them for so long and now that he has them, he's not giving them up

idk if this was a prompt but i got inspired <3 thanks for stopping by anon

jason todd x gn!reader. feral jason i guess, but really soft jason. jason who yearns to be yours. jason who'd do anything for it, even if it meant one sided devotion... and also, jason who is loved by you. 1.2k words

****

"I don't understand why you can't come to my apartment."

"I told you why." Jason's posture is rigid but his tone is gentle. Because he has told you why he won't enter your home. Multiple times. Doesn't mean you don't challenge it every time you meet him on a random rooftop.

"It would be fine, Jay," you say. "I trust you."

"I know. But I don't trust everybody else," he says, words crackling through his modulator. That had frightened you at first; in fact, everything about a newly-resurrected Jason Todd had frightened you. From his height to the guns, you'd been sure that night in Gotham would be your last.

But then it had become clear that cheated death aside, nothing could kill his heart.

"You haven't visited in a while," you say.

You don't mean for it to sound accusatory.

"I know," Jason says. "Been busy. The Bats..."

And you knew. You knew the second you found out that Jason was alive that it would be like this, that he wouldn't be completely yours. He wasn't yours when he was Robin either, perhaps even less so.

And what's wrong with that? You have no right to ask him to be yours. To give you more.

But the recent distance has frightened you. Maybe it's for safety's sake, but your selfish heart wishes that he'd drop that for once.

Then again, there's always that dread in your stomach that perhaps Jason Todd doesn't love you the way you love him. And perhaps he never will.

"Well, I wish you'd call," you say.

This is wrong. You shouldn't be picking fights. Jason doesn't go dark out of cruelty, only necessity.

Jason sighs. "I can't. 'M sorry."

You cross your arms. It's chilly tonight.

"Do you even want to see me?"

He tilts his head. Dangerous.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to intrude," you say. "You're busy and all the stuff with B, I don't—I mean, I wouldn't hold it against you if you—"

Jason takes two long strides and closes the distance. You swallow the rest of your sentence as he backs you up against the brick exterior of an abandoned apartment. Your heart picks up. You're not afraid; the fear went long ago. You're just... something. You're something about Jason.

The last time you two hugged was after Willis' death. You'd wanted to wrap him in his cape, thought maybe that would make everything feel as small as he'd been.

Now, a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, Jason clearly does not need a cape. Right?

He takes off his helmet, lets it hang on his hand. His other hand is by your head. You lean back, let your neck go on display. Jason doesn't miss the movement.

"What're you doing, Jay?" you ask levelly.

Maybe he thinks you don't notice this distance but you do. You don't want to push him to talk about it, because as upsetting as it is, you're still strangers to each other.

You are and you're not. He died and he didn't. You grieved and you didn't. You burn and... you burn.

But you're tired of being and not being. You won't let him keep you in emotional purgatory. If he's done with you, he should just say so.

"If you don't want to meet anymore," you start, and let the words hang in the air.

"I—" he starts, then swallows. He tosses his helmet to the side. He doesn't touch you, just hovers inches away. Jason smells like lilac and gun smoke.

"I don't think you understand... my devotion," he says, voice low. "How much power you have over me."

Your eyes widen. "Wh—"

His green eyes reflect the streetlight like a cat's. The sight stops you short. Jason Todd is hot metal on a knife's edge, and it would do you well to remember that.

His hands curl into fists. He shakes his head.

"Sorry," he whispers like a prayer. "Not tryna scare you." His chest rises and falls rapidly. "'M I scarin' ya, sweetheart? Tell me and I'll go home, shake it off. Wait forever. I can be good. Won't want what I don't deserve."

"I'm not scared," you say, and it's the most sure you've ever been. "Not scared of you, Jay."

He breathes a laugh, like he can't quite believe you. His breath is warm on your neck.

"You'd be the first," he says. "The only one."

This, you believe. This, you have wondered some nights, knowing that even Batman isn't sure what to do with a son who lives with death on his shoulder.

"You don't have to devote yourself to me," you say, because that makes you pause. Who are you to be his god?

Jason laughs again, strong and sure. He sinks to his knees in front of you. His white streak glows in the light.

"You think it's a vice?" he asks. He rests a hand on your left thigh, testing. You lay your hand over his, so he holds your other thigh too.

He hums. "You do. You think you're holdin' me hostage."

Jason takes a shuddering breath and flattens his palms over your legs. Then he leans in and rests his cheek on your leg, nose near the apex of your thighs. Your belly flips.

"Let's make one thing clear. My devotion is my only redemption. 'S the only thing that makes me believe I'm not all rotted inside. Makes me behave. In this world and the next, I'm yours."

"I... Jason, you belong to yourself, not me. I don't—"

"You don't have to do anything. If it's too much, then I'll disappear. You can carry on."

You stroke the exposed side of his face. He looks up at you.

He is still. You have made him still.

"I'm yours too," you say.

He shakes his head. "You don't hafta—"

"Do you think being yours is a curse?" you ask, gaze sharp.

"Don't promise something for balance's sake," he rasps. "I'll be yours without you being mine."

Your heart is still. He has made it still.

"I'll keep coming back," Jason whispers, eyes wide. "If you're mine, I can't leave. Y'don't know what you're doing. Don't give yourself to me."

"I do. I'm yours."

His grip tightens around your legs. Jason shakes his head.

"Don't do it," he says into your thigh. "I shouldn't have anyone. I'm-I'm only meant to be yours. Nobody's mine."

But you know. You can slide your finger along his teeth and he'll wait with his mouth open. You can touch his edges and he'll turn his cheek so you won't nick your finger. He would sooner chew his own tongue.

"It's alright," you say, and kneel. You dirty your knees right alongside him. "It's okay, Jason. I know what I'm doing."

His breath hitches. Jason presses you into the brick, tucks his face into your neck. His arms wrap tightly around your waist.

"Sorry," he whispers frantically. "'M sorry. You can push me away. Sorry."

"I won't do that." You hold him and let him take you. "I know you're good. I thought—I thought you were pulling away, and I..."

"I was," he admits, muffled in your skin. "'M sorry. Was the only way I could think of to let you go. You deserve better. Couldn't think 'round you, honeylove. Knew it was a death sentence when I found out that you still lived in Gotham."

"It wasn't," you say. "Best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jason huffs. "You say that now, but..."

"No. I say it now and I'll say it again. Keep me, Jason. I'll keep you too."

[saintsenara]

Do you think harry is more similar to lily or James

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i think the assessment of harry's character which dumbledore gives to snape in deathly hallows is more or less the correct one:

“He is his father over again -”  “In looks, perhaps, but his deepest nature is much more like his mother’s.”

which i think can be expanded upon really interestingly as an example of something which the series does really, really well - how it obscures the fact that lily is the key to the mystery right up until the last minute.

the things harry has in common with james - not only his looks, but his quidditch talent, his impulsivity, his disregard for the rules, his arrogance, his cunning, his beef with snape, his adoration of sirius, his belief that his uncle is faintly ridiculous, and his bold, flashy courage - are big and explicit and demonstrative, and the text lampshades that they're inherited from his father at every opportunity.

[and not only in how many characters mention that he looks like james. voldemort - for example - mentions james' demonstrative bravery - facing him "like a man" - every time he and harry interact; sirius and lupin never mention lily when discussing harry's personality, even when what they're talking about is how he's not like james.]

the text also goes out of its way to suggest that similarly big aspects of lily's character have not been inherited by her son - the most obvious example of which is that, in half-blood prince, the incandescent talent at potions which has slughorn raving about how like his mother harry is... is actually the result of harry cheating [and cheating from a textbook he's convinced for much of the book might have belonged to james].

the only thing the text emphasises again and again that harry has inherited from his mother are his eyes.

and - in doing this - the series is actually telling us something very clear about what it understands harry to have in common with lily.

eyes are a frequent motif throughout the text, which are almost always connected to the themes of authenticity and truth.

dumbledore's eyes give away his true feelings in goblet of fire - when the "gleam of something like triumph" comes into them after he learns that voldemort used harry's blood to resurrect himself - before serving as a metaphor for the way the information about the prophecy is being withheld from harry in order of the phoenix when he refuses to make eye contact with him.

[dumbledore's eyes also stop "twinkling" after voldemort returns, in a sign of how serious the situation - which the ministry never appreciates the full gravity of - is becoming.]

occlumency and legilimency - the obscuring and seeking of truth - depend on eye contact. the teenage tom riddle's eyes - with their gleam of red - give away his true depravity, even when he's still outwardly charming and beautiful. the teen snape sees the reason for his obsession with the marauders "wrenched from him against his will" at the force of lily's glare [and the adult snape frequently averts his own gaze from harry when he clearly doesn't want to risk seeing anger or pain in lily's eyes]. ginny's love for harry - her "never giving up" on him, her willingness to wait and endure while he goes off on the horcrux hunt - is communicated by a "blazing look". the basilisk kills by looking - but doesn't kill anyone in chamber of secrets, since the truth about the culprit isn't known. and so on...

which is to say - the series regards the eyes as the windows to the soul [an idea which is connected to a verse in chapter six of the gospel of matthew - the verse immediately preceding which, "for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also", is inscribed upon kendra and ariana dumbledore's graves] and to the true, inner nature of a person.

in mentioning again and again that harry looks like james except for his eyes, what the narrative is doing is hinting to the reader that harry's big, obvious, showy similarities with his father mustn't let them miss that the more subtle traits of his personality - his steadfastness, his quiet courage in the face of hopelessness, his ability to love so much it changes the entire course of history - come from his mother, and that what he inherits from lily will be much more important to the resolution of the story than the things he inherits from james.

this is a clue it plays with really nicely - particularly because harry doesn't really care at any point prior to the last third of deathly hallows about what he inherits from lily more than he cares about what he inherits from james.

we - as readers - go through his experience of learning that his mother is the key to the whole mystery in real time - when we join harry in snape's memories - and we walk into the forest with a harry who now knows the whole truth: that he's more like his mother than he's previously realised, and that he'll therefore be able to do the same thing that she did, and die so that others might live.

“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other’s eyes, green into red. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again.”

[tobiasdrake]

My favourite thing about the Dragon Balls making death less permanent is that, in spite of taking away some impact, it gives us one of the best parts of the show.

Vegeta.

Narratively, he should have died on Namek. He has stalled for long enough, he is able to see the Legend come true (in his eyes), he knows Frieza will die, his ideology and strength have been surpassed by Goku and he no longer has much to offer.

And that's why bringing him back after his death is insane, because Vegeta has had his big sacrifice play and seen his past concluded... and yet he has to keep living. He's quick to jump to anger at Kakarot, but for a while there he is surely lost on what to do.

Frieza is dead. Nappa and Raditz are dead. The Super Saiyan has been born, his people have been avenged, he doesn't even have a need for a wish anymore.

What does he have left? Both as a character and a person, all he can offer now is rage. And so, that exactly what he does, because for a time its all he can do.

What he has left is himself, which has always been his motivating factor. He never really cared much about avenging his people, about Nappa and Raditz, or about the Super Saiyan. For Vegeta, it's always been about glorifying Vegeta.

We first started to get a glimpse of the kind of man Vegeta is when he and Nappa briefly discuss Raditz's death. Nappa wants to resurrect Raditz using the Dragon Balls but Vegeta thinks Raditz can go fuck himself.

Shortly after, they have a brief discussion about Gohan. Gohan's existence intrigues Nappa. He wants to start some sort of twisted Saiyan eugenics program to repopulate their race with Saiyans who are stronger than ever before.

Vegeta sees hybrid Saiyans as a threat to his personal glory, however, and wants to kill all humans instead.

Vegeta would rather the Saiyans go extinct than allow new Saiyans to come into existence that are stronger than him. This sets the stage for his relationship to his people's genocide.

Which he actively contributes to.

Going a step beyond refusing to revive Raditz 'cause "Fuck 'im", Vegeta kills Nappa himself.

Goku breaks Nappa's back so he can't fight anymore, which causes his existence to lose all value in Vegeta's eyes. So Vegeta personally disposes of the last remaining Saiyan besides him and the two Earthlings.

If Saiyans cannot advance Vegeta's ambitions, then what good are they?

From there, Vegeta goes to Namek and learns of the Saiyan genocide. His reaction is about what you'd expect from him up to this point.

He has no interest in revenge against Frieza for the Saiyans. He just wants to be out from under Frieza's bootheel. Vegeta's greatest ambition is to be the strongest in the universe.

Also, fun fact: He's heard of the Super Saiyan but never put any stock in this Saiyan gobbledygook. He only starts to consider the possibility once he sees Goku in his incomplete proto-Super Saiyan state.

"The Super Saiyan is fake but if it does exist THEN IT SHOULD BE ME."

Literally the first time he ever expresses any sentiment towards his fellow Saiyans is when he is actively in the process of joining them in death.

That Vegeta is dying and no longer has a future to think of seems to have done a number on his personality. This is the first time he ever even hints at caring for someone other than himself.

The thing about Vegeta is that he was very young when his planet was destroyed. In a sense, Vegeta and Goku are mirrors of one another. Neither of them are culturally Saiyans. Neither ever truly knew Planet Vegeta and its people.

They're a post-genocide diaspora, raised in other cultures by other people. Goku grew up to be culturally Earthling. And Vegeta... is culturally Frieza. He was raised in the grips of coldhearted capitalism, self-glorification, and the devaluing of people, places, and things into disposable commodities for market, and he internalized all of it.

The reason Vegeta is so different from Nappa and Raditz, so much crueler and more self-interested, is because - like Goku - Vegeta has never truly connected with his Saiyan heritage. How could he? His culture was annihilated.

Capable of reflexively dismissing his people's genocide with "LOL Fuck 'em" in the moment but then, with the honest vulnerability of impending death, admit "No, that sucks actually."

Vegeta spends the back half of the Namek arc forced into an uneasy alliance that's tearing him in half over who he is.

"You dumbass, if you had time to save me then you had time to let me die and sucker punch the enemy!" Vegeta barks at Gohan.

Meanwhile, Vegeta.

And that's after Gohan and Krillin betrayed him, too. Exposure to the Earthlings and their different ideas is getting to him. The way Gohan and Krillin treat him and each other is... it's not so much healing as deprogramming some of the things he learned from Frieza.

He's being exposed to a way of life that's different from the one he's always known, and it's affecting the way his mind interprets things like teamwork or the death of his people. The way he thinks and expresses himself.

People are complicated and much of who we are is a product of environmental factors. Change Vegeta's circumstances and you change Vegeta.

So in his final moments, killed by the same person that killed the rest of his kind, he allows himself to feel the grief that he'd previously written off as "LOL Sucks to be them!"

Pretty much the entire rest of his arc is the steady deprogramming of Vegeta, once he's stranded on Earth with no way back into space, disconnected from the toxic ideology that raised him. Having to first figure out how to take his value system he learned from Frieza and apply it to his new circumstances.

But, over time, becoming more and more of an Earthling in his own right. Learning that it's okay, actually, to care about other people. To be emotionally invested in someone besides himself.

That it's okay to live a domestic life on a planet somewhere and be part of a culture, rather than simply defining himself as a conqueror.

That it's okay to not be the strongest in the universe. That he is not a failure if he finds a mountain he cannot climb.

Even finding religion. He uses his final moments before his second death to turn to (ex-)God and ask the fate of his immortal soul.

Vegeta is a diasporic member of a dead race raised in the image of the people that destroyed his home, killed his people, and robbed him of his culture. Slowly unlearning the belief systems of colonization, consumption, and capitalist individualism that defined so much of his life, and instead discovering the beauty of people and life.

[coraniaid]

Made a list of some various ways in which Kendra could have continued to appear in the show after Faith. Sorted roughly both in order of increasing impact on the plot and increasing suspension of disbelief required on the part of the audience:

Kendra stays dead, but somebody (ideally somebody who actually met her, but failing that just about anybody) brings her name up, in any context, after her last canonical mention on the show (by Cordelia in Faith, Hope & Trick). This is ... the baseline, surely. (Do you know nobody but Cordelia mentions her by name at all after Season 2? Or that there are multiple conversations in early Season 3 in which it's discussed that Buffy was wanted for murder but has since been cleared, but not one in which it is acknowledged that the person she was wrongly accused of murdering was her friend and fellow Slayer?)

Kendra stays dead, but the First takes on her appearance at any point (either in Amends or in Season 7). There's a lot of talk about how the writers were hoping to bring back Xander's friend Jesse for Conversations With Dead People, but I've never seen anything about them doing the same for Kendra, despite the fact that Kendra appeared more times on the show (and more recently) and clearly mattered far more to Buffy. And given that the writers insisted on recasting Nikki Wood this season (despite her original actor wanting to come back!), I'm not exactly inclinced to give them the benefit of the doubt here.

Kendra stays dead, but for some reason only known to the writers, Amy Madison casts a spell to make one of the Potentials look just like her for an episode. It is never made clear why Amy would do this beyond a vague desire to mess with Buffy, how she knew about Kendra in the first place, or what consequences -- if any - Amy ever faces after casting this spell. Somehow it's still only very slightly less stupid than the actual canon plot of Season 7's The Killer In Me (which, to be clear, this would not replace in my vision; randomy-evil!Amy does two very similar spells back to back, ideally in consecutive episodes).

Kendra stays dead, but -- in classic Star Trek Mirrorverse fashion -- the writers use some sort of magical contrivance to allow the Kendra from the Wishverse (who was, presumably, Called as a Slayer the moment that the Master killed that reality's Buffy Summers) to visit 'our' reality. (This isn't really within the rules as presented in The Wish, but if Vampire Willow can do it....). Imagine a version of Season 6's As You Were when Buffy doesn't have to try to justify herself to her shitty ex -- the man who left her to fight a god and die so that he could go and make Belize safe for missionaries -- but instead she has to come face to face with the perfect, by-the-book Slayer who died as a direct result of Buffy's last relationship with a vampire.

Kendra stays dead ... until Bargaining. Willow messes up her resurrection spell a little bit and accidentally brings back more than one dead Slayer. Kendra hangs around for the rest of the show and is understandably very confused throughout (in particular, she could have sworn that Buffy didn't have a little sister four years ago...). Maybe the Watchers show up again, after Kendra tries contacting Sam Zabuto for advice. Maybe Kendra reacts just as badly to being brought back from the dead as Buffy initially does (and, look, if she wants to follow Buffy's example and start a relationship with one of the monsters she's meant to be Slaying, Anya will be newly single in just a few months' time...)

Kendra stays mostly dead, but a certain academic at UC Sunnydale with ties to the US military has been hearing rumours and myths about "Slayers" from captured demons and vampires for a while now. Long enough to become curious, and to pull a few strings at the local morgue when the rumour mill tells her a vampire somehow managed to kill a Slayer. Said academic has been funneling government money to work on her own "perfect soldier" project for a long time, and what better test subject to demonstrate this work on than a Slayer of her own? It turns out that most of Kendra's memories are still intact, after a little bit of not-exactly-ethical post-mortem surgery gets her heart working again, and as luck would have it she's even been trained for years to follow orders and never question authority. She's perfect. Realizing that the name "Adam" was a bit on the nose anyway, Professor Walsh starts a new project in Room 314...

Kendra was left for dead by Drusilla, bleeding out and unconcious on the floor of Sunnydale High School library, but it turns out that modern medicine is a bit better than it was in Drusilla's day and Slayers have this whole enhanced healing deal that the canon show sometimes forgets about. Yeah, her heart stops a couple of times in the ER, which is enough for a third Slayer to be called as in canon (and Buffy might not know that Kendra is going to make it when she goes to fight Angelus or when she leaves town), but by the time Willow is up and walking around again, so is Kendra.

Kendra is alive at the beginning of Season 3, filling in for Buffy in Sunnydale while the other Slayer is living as 'Anne' in LA. After Buffy comes back, Kendra leaves town for another Hellmouth but still regularly makes cameo appearances every season. Faith is also there, just like in canon, and the fact that Faith should only have been activated as a Slayer if Kendra died is simply never addressed. (I mean, let's be honest, it's not like the show particularly cares about continuity anyway.)

[edoro]

Dunmeshi spoilers, talking about Thistle and Delgal

the more i think about it, the less i feel like the text of Dunmeshi really does support the interpretation that Delgal didn't love Thistle

like, yes, he absolutely did use Thistle, and displayed a clear sense of entitlement towards him - the baseline expectation that if he had a problem, Thistle could and would solve it, and then the idea that once he'd set Thistle to solve a problem he could just... turn that solution off when he felt like it ("we've been here a while now, isn't it time we left the dungeon?" <-words of a man who has not truly grasped what he asked for, what Thistle did to fulfill it, or what any of the repercussions of this are)

there's also an interesting thread of carelessness when it comes to his physical interactions with Thistle during high-emotion moments, like when he grabs onto Thistle by Eodio's sickbed or when he thumps Thistle on the back after Thistle summons monsters to kill their enemies and then brings that kid's dead dad back to life

it feels like he's a large dog who doesn't realize how big he is, or perhaps doesn't realize how small and delicate Thistle is, and perhaps at times is very aware of it and uses his size to intimidate/express his frustration

all of that aside, though, i think it's very clear that prior to Thistle becoming dungeon lord and tbh for a decent chunk of time at the beginning of his tenure as dungeon lord, Delgal had a very emotionally intimate relationship with him

i don't think you can sort them neatly into the categories of older vs younger sibling. they've both been both at different times, depending on how you measure it. Thistle is certainly older chronologically, and there was a chunk of Delgal's life - a very formative chunk, too - where Thistle was older, smarter, and stronger, where Thistle looked out for him and protected him and taught him things.

and then there were a few years where they were at the same developmental level... and then Delgal outgrew Thistle. he got bigger and older physically and he matured mentally past the point where Thistle was. not only that, but he became king, and while Thistle may have been raised alongside him like a brother, that doesn't make Thistle a prince - he was first and foremost a servant (and property) of the crown, even if his position meant he enjoyed a close relationship with the king, queen, and prince.

but that doesn't make Thistle necessarily the little brother - he is now, but it seems to me that there's still a part of him and Delgal that sees him as someone with the power to comfort and protect and teach, rather than someone who needs to be comforted and protected and taught

take the scene where Delgal says he's afraid of dying after his father was killed: that's an extremely tender, intimate, emotional scene. Delgal is crying while Thistle strokes his hair and promises to protect him. Delgal, the king, is being vulnerable in a way he absolutely cannot with most people, and Thistle sees his vulnerability and offers not only comfort but the promise of safety - don't worry, i'll make it better, i'll chase away the monsters under your bed, i won't let anything bad happen to you, i won't let anyone hurt you.

Delgal sees him as someone to seek that comfort from and Thistle sees himself as being in a position to give that comfort. he yearns for Delgal's attention and approval but also sees himself as Delgal's protector.

and then we have scenes like the one where Thistle resurrected that kid's dad, where he sees everyone staring at him in the aftermath of this bloody route and a bit of casual necromancy and realizes they're unsure, even scared of him, and it's Delgal who steps in and changes the mood by thumping Thistle on the back and praising him; Delgal who manages the crowd and keeps Thistle safe, setting the expectation for how everyone should react, lending his social cachet to Thistle in this moment to protect him from backlash

they go back and forth like this with each other, and i think it's one of the most interesting things about their relationship. no one else in Delgal's family has the same kind of relationship with Thistle. no one else knows him as well or loves him like Delgal does. no one else is close with him like that.

ultimately, i don't think you can look at the way he sought comfort from Thistle after his father's death and think that there isn't love and emotional intimacy there. the real tragedy is that Delgal always loved Thistle, but he never understood Thistle, and his inability to do so combined with his general passivity and avoidance played a big part in things getting as fucked up as they did.

[zagreusapollyon]

Thank you @rosabell14 for reminding me how much I despise Rick's portrayal of the hunters.

Good God where do I even start!?

Let's start with my girl Zoe, and look I love her, but I cannot bring myself to forget the blatant way she SPECIFICALLY chose Bianca to be on the quest.

It was obvious as hell that she chose her because:

She just got recruited, she has no bond with Zoe or other members of the hunt, therefore if they lose her, she wouldn't feel that guilty or upset about it.

Strategically, she's also inexperienced, by sacrificing her, they are preserving more precious and useful members of the hunt who have more experience in battle and teamwork. By losing Bianca, she is essentially losing NOTHING, because if she's lost, then they're just gonna be back to the way they were before.

She also does the bare minimum to protect her on the quest, mostly ignoring her for the most part. There is no scene where she tries to help Bianca learn or give her pointers to her, to, you know, NOT DIE!?

Might be harsh from me, but I put half of the blame of Bianca's death on her. Bianca was her responsibility, and Zoe is not a teenager, she is thousands of years old and has been in the hunt for many years. Yes, Bianca should have not touched anything, but she's a kid and the responsibility of kids on the assigned guardian.

Look, I know why Zoe did why she did, she's a human like the rest of us, but her feelings are an explanation for what she did, not a justification.

Next is Artemis.

I get why she offered Bianca a place in the hunt, but at the very least she could have let her also see camp before offering her that, especially because she has a little brother which she loves. I can't really say much about her considering that Percy got kicked out of the tent before we could hear what she was saying to Bianca.

The next thing is the hunters characterization over all.

I cannot stand the way they act in camp. I'm sorry Rick, but you CAN like girly things and still be a warrior, liking pink isn't gonna stop me from punching someone in the face and shattering their jaw.

Why would you make the hunters look down on the Aphrodite kids because of that? If I like more feminine stuff, it isn't gonna decrease my capability as a person, it doesn't make me less.

The hunters, even in the myths, weren't just a man-hating group, they have had male members before, like that one guy Artemis went to hell and back to resurrect after he got killed by a sea monster.

Thank you for coming to my ramblings.

[lavenderstobins]

Here’s a masterlist of all the Stranger Things fics I’ve posted! Mostly Robin/Nancy and Steve & Robin 💜

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🪻Highlights

➤ love will tear us apart Steve & Robin | T | 12k Robin gets Vecna'd. ➤ leave the speaker on and stay Steve & Robin | T | 8.6k | stobin month 2023 Steve and Robin meet in 1984 instead. ➤ through the years we all will be together (if the fates allow) Steve & Robin | T | 19.6k Steve and Robin work on Christmas. Everyone brings a little bit of Christmas to them.

🩵 Series

Josieverse

Robin raising her daughter

➤ bright as the morning sun Steve & Robin & Josie | G | 1.4k | stobin month 2024 A slice-of-life oneshot revolving around Robin, Steve and Josie.

➤ here's to my future (here's to my yesterday) Steve & Robin & Eddie | T | 3.3k Robin’s three months pregnant and still only two people know. They’ve been invited to Dustin’s Halloween party, though. She can keep it a secret. Probably.

➤ all for freedom and for pleasure Steve & Josie & Eddie | G | 0.8k Eddie discovers that Robin’s daughter has learnt how to blackmail people.

➤ what you fear the most Steve & Robin & Josie | G | 1k Steve comes home to find Robin and her daughter Josie seemingly trapped.

➤ somebody that you used to know Robin/Valerie, Steve & Robin | M | 1.9k Before Josie was born—before everything changed—Robin had had something with Valerie. Nothing serious, nothing labelled, but it mattered all the same.

Spider-Man AU

Steve and Robin grapple with being superheroes

➤ in the web that is my own, i begin again (WIP) Steve & Robin | T | 5/11 | 29.3k Steve has powers. Robin doesn't... yet.

Dragon Age AU

Stranger Things in the world of Thedas

➤ in war, in peace, in death Steve/Eddie, Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy | T | 7.8k Steve realises Robin's alive, trapped in the Fade.

Apocalypse AU

On top of everything else, there's zombies

➤ HOW TO SURVIVE THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE: A GUIDE BY DUSTIN HENDERSON Dustin & everyone | G | 2.5k Dustin's guide to the apocalypse.

🌿 Multichapter Fics

➤ you're out of touch, i'm out of time Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy, Steve/Eddie | T | 12/12 | 75.5k Steve and Nancy travel back in time to 1983 and try to fix things.

➤ one more or one less (WIP) Steve & Robin | T | 1/? | 2.5k After Starcourt, Steve realises that Robin's missing.

➤ holding my last breath (WIP) Nancy/Robin | M | 1/13 | 3.6k | A Scream AU When teenagers start being killed in Hawkins, Nancy’s determined to solve the mystery.

➤ chasing visions of our futures (WIP) Stevie/Eddie, Stevie & Robin, Robin/Nancy | T | 2/7 | 4k Stevie's dead set on nudging Robin and Nancy together. She's not expecting to realise her feelings for Eddie along the way.

➤ separation brings us awfully close Robin/Chrissy, Robin/Nancy, Chrissy/Nancy, Chrissy & Eddie | T | 3/3 | 9.8k Chrissy learns the hard way that Spider-Woman can’t save everyone.

➤ you’re someone (who knows someone i once knew) (WIP) T | 1/3 | 4.4k Steve Harrington dies. Decades later, Dustin Henderson resurrects him. This is not that story. That story’s already been told. No, this is about what comes after.

🍊 Oneshots

➤ you got light in your eyes Steve & Robin | T | 7.2k | Sequel to Out of Touch Steve can't stop thinking about what Mr. Hauser had told him about Robin.

➤ the pleasure, the privilege is mine Steve & Robin | T | 7.6k Robin won’t let Steve go alone. Not even at the end of the world.

➤ share the same space for a minute or two Robin/Nancy | G | 2.4k Nancy isn’t yet sure what to do with herself now that the world isn’t ending. Robin helps.

➤ the future's unwritten, the past is a corridor Nancy & Eddie, Steve & Robin, Robin/Nancy, Steve/Eddie | T | 26.3k Robin and Nancy have just moved into their new house with their son, next door to Steve, Eddie and their daughter.

➤ guess i'm a coward (i just want to feel alright) Steve/Eddie, Eddie & everyone | T | 7.2k When the bats attack, Eddie sticks to the plan, and he runs, and he lives. He thinks, maybe, that he’ll hate himself forever for it.

➤ cracks in your ceiling Robin/Nancy | T | 9.9k Nancy has a movie night with friends, invents a new disease, and quite possibly has her life ruined by Sigourney Weaver.

➤ now i've found a real love  Robin/Nancy, Nancy & Mike | T | 8.7k Nancy Wheeler deserves a good Christmas. In fact, they all do.

➤ used to be you but now it's you and me Steve & Robin | T | 2.4k | twin stars stobin zine contribution It's only natural to cry on your birthday.

➤ 'cause i'm gonna be free and i'm gonna be fine Steve & Robin | T | 7.5k Two decades after the Upside Down closes for good, Steve's daughter goes viral on TikTok, and things quickly escalate from there.

➤ this dream isn't feeling sweet Lucas & Robin, Robin/Vickie | T | 13.1k Lucas finds himself struggling at the post-championship game party.

➤ there’s joy not far from here (i know there is) Steve & Robin, Steve & Robin & the party | T | 3.7k Steve, Robin and the party have an important discussion about homophobia.

➤ this is how we'll dance Steve & Robin & Eddie, minor Robin/Carol, Steve & Dustin | T | 1.8k Prom night 1985 from Robin, Eddie and Steve's perspectives.

➤ hold onto hope if you got it Wayne & Eddie, Wayne & Everyone | G | 2k When the trailer park is destroyed, Wayne loses his mug collection of twenty years. Eddie decides this is unacceptable and must be rectified.

➤ you will surely be the death of me  Steve & Robin, Steve & Robin & The Party | G | 4.4k When Eddie plans to go out of town, Robin and Steve finally agree to play a D&D campaign, on the following conditions: 1) it’s one session, and 2) Robin’s the DM.

🌹 Smut fics

➤ if this feeling flows both ways Robin/Nancy | E | 9.1k Nancy accidentally receives a sext from Robin and can’t stop thinking about it.

➤ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me Robin/Nancy | E | 8.8k It’s been a while since Nancy’s had time alone with Robin. She intends to make the most of it.

🌸 Rarepairs

➤ every time it rains Steve/Kali | G | 1.6k Kali wouldn't class herself as someone fond of walks, but she is fond of Steve.

➤ neck full of mockingbirds (WIP) Robin/Carol | E | 9/? | 7.5k Carol and Robin, from start to end.

➤ i wanna be adored Nancy/Eden | G | 1.9k Nancy's lonely. Eden's there.

[lockedtombtheories]

Thanks! I think the biggest thing currently bugging me about HtN is why every surviving lyctor, with 1 single exception, was plotting to kill Jod? My understanding is that it was only when they saw cav!Gideon's eyes on the Mithraeum that they realized Jod lied about the existence of perfect lyctorhood. So why had they spent decades plotting with BoE to open the tomb and murder God? Only explanation I've read is "because he made them kill their cavs," which seems weak.

The short answer is: They at least suspected that he lied about it even before meeting Gideon. She was just the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Plus, he did make them kill their cavs! Their siblings, their lovers, their closest friends! They dealt with that truth for far more than a lifetime, but they just so happens that they had a lot of time to dwell on it. It’s not really a surprise that it eventually got ugly.

Long answer under the cut, because I love my followers and don’t want them to suffer.

First off: it isn't just the surviving lyctors who betrayed God. Mercymorn, Augustine, Cytherea, yes; but even G1deon was willing to share a bed with the enemy. Either he or Pyrrha told Wake about the RB's and what they do to necromancers, thereby handing her an effective weapon against lyctors. 

And then there's Anastasia, who's implied to have gone against John's orders by even founding the Ninth House. Cassie, who contacted BoE *6 000 years ago*. So who really knows what Cyrus and Ulysses were up to, or would have been if they'd survived for long enough. 

As for why? We get two pieces of explanation in the text. 

YOU LIED TO US

Could this refer to the proof in Gideon's eyes? Sure.  But I'm not convinced that it wasn't the message Cyth always wanted to send. 

Checking in with the other duplicitous sluts:

“You’ve offered us explanations for everything over the years. But—some of them didn’t hold up on examination … It was the power I could never get my head around, you know? I follow power back to its source, John. It’s the skill you asked me to perfect. And the longer I looked at yours, the less things added up.”  “This has been troubling you for a very long time, then,” God said finally. [...] “You don’t get your power from Dominicus,” said Augustine. “It gets its power from you. There’s no exchange involved, no symbiosis. You draw nothing from the system. It relies on you entirely, as we all know. You’re God, John. But—as the Edenites are fond of pointing out—you were once a man. So whither that transition? Where does your power come from? Even if the Resurrection had been the greatest thanergy bloom ever triggered, it would drain away over time. And then Mercy said to me—in a moment of true Mercy vileness—she said, What is God afraid of? [...] I never wanted to believe it when she said, What if he didn’t really put down A.L.? And then—What if he couldn’t put down A.L.?” (HtN, ch. 51)

So: they knew that John didn’t have a tangible power source; and lyctorhood was the only kind of internal furnace they know about. Ergo: yes, they suspected that John had lied about perfect Lyctorhood. He made them kill their cavs. 10 000 years of guilt, literally chasing them across the universe, and for what? For whom?

What kind of God demands such a sacrifice? I think that's one of the central questions of these books. What kind of God demands it? (compare the Binding of Isaac - John) But also: What kind of God punishes it? (compare the Mark of Cain - the Resurrection Beasts) 

But - 

“Why would one of the Emperor’s Lyctors hate him?” “Hate him?” The voice of the girl whom Gideon had known as Dulcinea rose, high and intent. “Hate him? I have loved that man for ten thousand years. We all loved him, every one of us. We worshipped him like a king. Like a god! Like a brother.” (GtN, ch. 35)

They are Believers losing their Faith. They’re questioning the entire foundation of his divinity. Augustine and Mercy are still asking, still hoping that they're wrong - “All that effort to break open the Locked Tomb,” said Augustine, “only to have the answer we wanted wander up in the form of one dead teenager flaunting your genes." - but crucially, they are also lovers going through a messy divorce. You know, when people who once loved each other and were presumably capable of communication are suddenly throwing plates at each other? “Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.” 

Possibly what Tazmuir is saying is, they're the same picture. But that might be conjecture. 

(edited to add in links to other theory posts. call it the director's cut)

[cashmere-caveman]

i love nina beinghuman so much and i wish she was in a better show w a love interest that is less of a clown bc hello. imagine u are a nurse and theres these two weirdos at ur job who everyone low key suspects are banging bc they live together and they applied to their positions together and theres a rumour that they both used to squat in the abandoned hospital wing thats down for renovations together

and one of them is like a grade a sleazy fuckboy whos v pretty and knows it but also his job is literally mopping up puke so ur pretty immune to any and all coolness he exudes bc u have seen this man scrubbing human excrement from the floors but sometimes u both go take a smoke break at the same time and he can be kind of funny when he wants so like even though hes not ur type u Get It u guess

and the other one is well. at first u think he is the one riding the coattails of his hot friend bc he is absolutely hopeless and has negative charisma somehow despite looking kind of cute and being a bumbling hopeless fool but he constantly puts his foot in his mouth and seems like kind of an ass, actually? but then u get to know him better and turns out that no the hot friend is riding His cottails bc clearly this man is employed wayyy under his skill level bc that man is absolutely sharp and intelligent and yet he is a fucking hospital porter for reasons ur not sure u want to really know, actually, but also like? that man's ass? 👀 awooga

so when the hot guy hits on u on ur next shared smokebreak on the awkward guy's behalf and sets u up for a date ur like okay. maybe i will give that man a chance maybe i was hasty in my judgements and he IS cute so like what have i got to lose here

and then u and the awkward guy get together but also the Vibes u get from him and his bestie never really stop but he says its not like that and he loves u and he knows u and he still! he still wants u after having seen u, all the parts of u that u are scared to share so this is good! this could be something really good for once in ur life u get to have this one good thing and its this man and you are happy

and then all of that somehow leads to ur sweet and clumsy boyfriend transforming into a fucking monster right in front of ur eyes and killing a man by Ripping Him To Shreds like thats a thing people do that he could do the whole time and then he infects u and ur life is over it is fucking over and except maybe its not? but yeah no these new people dont want to help u they just want to kill you and the secret third flatmate ur ex boyfriend and hot guy who apparently is a reformed mass murderer had is even deader than before and stuck in hell and its ur fault

and u try to fix it and then theres more people dead and everything sucks and ur hiding and you have to leave everything and everyone u knew behind to start a new life in wales but at least u get the roommate back and u and ur boyfriend are back together and ur pregnant! and maybe now finally u get to be a happy family for real!

but u still live w the roommates who are now also in love ? you think? she is in love in any case but ur not entirely sure abt the guy bc he has been off ever since the move and theres awful stuff on the news about this massacre and it starts to feel Not Good and he is getting erratic and also the guy ur boyfriend killed a while ago somehow got resurrected but lost his mind in the process so as a good person u decided to keep him in ur attic and treat him like ur weird uncle bc u feel responsible for this, somehow and then things start adding up and ur suspicions become more and more firm until u are sure that ur boyfriends pet ex mass murderer is in fact a pet CURRENT mass murderer and your boyfriend KNEW and he did absolutely NOTHING but at least that man is gone now. so many people are dead but at least hes gone

and then one evening it knocks on the door and hes back. hot guy is back and he is here bc he regrets everything and wants to die and u agree he Should die he is a horrible person he broke ur flamate/friends heart and made ur boyfriend complicit in one of the most horrendous crimes in recent history and also he just fucking sucks bc without him none of this would have ever happened and then he asks ur boyfriend to stab him bc he doesnt want to commit suicide by himself like the spineless creature he is and ur boyfriend agrees and u start to wonder if maybe those coworkers at the hospital years ago who spread the rumour that these two were in love were right all along and that ur boyfriend was never just ur boyfriend alone

[galexibrain]

Vegeta casually being added to the main cast is the funniest shit. His death on Namek would have been a fitting end to his entire arc, and no one would have complained if he hadn't been resurrected by Shenlong (simply count him as one fo Freezer's and he's a goner) but here he is, alive, on Earth, and everyone just rolls with it. They're probably used to Goku bringing in villains by now. What's one more?

It's been ... six weeks ... more or less ... since he came to Earth and almost killed everyone but no one seems too bothered about his presence. The Namekians glare at him a little but apparently he lived at Capsule Corp while they were still there too and nothing happened?

Even Piccolo vanished into thin air for a few years after Goku beat him at the tournament.

And Vegeta just accepts it too! Bulma invites him to come too and he does? I know the anime has him leaving Earth for a while but afaik he just stays there in the manga, save for leaving to train by himself.

Like yeah, man's been going through a small crisis on Namek and it's not like there anyone, anywhere in the universe he could actually go, so why not enjoy some good food (and sex) while he's at it?

Imagine Raditz, Nappa, Freezer, Ginyu Force ... everyone Goku was willing to let live do the same ... they would have to open a "former villain shelter" on Earth ... to be adopted out to the right owner. May bite. Misses a limb or two. But cute once you get to know them.

Anyways. Vegeta adapted to life on Earth so fucking quickly it's hilarious. We see him in casual clothing more often than Goku.

[elfieafterdark]

So, John's grand strategy has been revealed... At least on the surface. We allegedly know why he wanted new Lyctors, why he wanted to increase their number.

He hoped to fight the beasts.

I'm sure seeing 1 and 1/2 new children is a eulogy to his instrumental failure. He meant for eight and got less than two.

With one of those killing Cytherea herself. So all in all he's up half a Lyctor. Not a great plan, shithead.

I'll be quite plain, I don't like John Gaius. He strikes me as a kindly man who makes all the wrong decisions for all the wrong reasons.

His Empire is crumbling while he tries to expand it, the revenants of actual planets want to eat him and his friends.

He, willingly or not, led approximately 16 people to their deaths. He isolated his immortal friends from himself and each other, he made them pay the ultimate price. I think Cytherea was never the same after she lost Loveday, and none of her "siblings" noticed.

They were too busy being pretentious dicks, I imagine it would be a side effect of hanging out with a man who calls himself God. Which he knows is a sin by the way. I'm sure he does.

So his plan was to bolster his numbers by at most eight, then fight things that have caused the deaths of and or killed all but three Lyctors, far older and more experienced than the infants?

Folly. Stupidity.

Let's be fair, they can't win against the Resurrection beasts. Not in a fair fight. John has doomed everyone, he's doomed the entire universe because of his arrogance.

I don't like God on a good day, let alone when he's an admittedly quite likeable buffoon.

[bridgetotheskyyy]

chapter four.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Gaara shares his past, there's a cactus, and you get a letter . . .

Chapter warnings: sexual content, 18+, psychoactive elements, angst, drama

Word count: 13k

A/N: I’m not completely satisfied with the pacing of this one, So, I hope y’all are okay with this being the chapter where Everything Happens lmfaooo. Once again, please forgive any errors you might see. I was slightly less hawkish with this chapter to get it out. Thank you and hope you enjoy!

Read on ao3 here

“Ah, I see.” Baki’s voice dipped with disappointment.

Gaara and Temari had returned to brief Baki on everything, though Temari did most of the heavy-lifting in explaining. Kankuro was absent, though; the moment they had returned, he had taken it upon himself to continue his sub-Kazekage duties and, two days into their return to Sunagakure, they hadn’t seen much of him since.

“There was always a risk,” Baki said. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n) were able to enjoy their time, short though it was. And …” Baki set a sheet of paper aside, brows drawn together in thought. “that Lady (Y/n) was able to return relatively unscathed.”

Gaara shared in Baki’s discreet concern; you had said so little to him during the trip back, and after being checked thoroughly by medical nin, you were sent to bed for vital rest. Your accoster had no assailants they needed to worry about. They even had a sea-side town ready to assist them if they needed anything as a payoff. From a perspective that was coldly shinobi, it wasn’t a bad deal. 

But Gaara continued to replay the scene in his head — his sand wrapped around the man who’d assaulted you, his rage, your pleading, your voice so small, so helpless.

I frightened her.

It had been long since Gaara had felt a guilt quite like this — since he’d felt an anger like that. And now the shame, like the anger, threatened to drown him. It weighed his every step.

You, someone he came to see more and more as his future wife.

“In the meantime, we’ll tighten security,” Temari told Gaara. “No more trips or lavish shopping sprees until the news of this has died down. Hell,” Temari shrugged, “maybe even until after the wedding.”

Gaara felt Temari’s stare but did not take the bait.

“Lord Kazekage …?” Baki began measuredly. “Is there something you’d like to add?”

It was a moment before Gaara answered, grimacing. “I was a fool … and rash.”

“Gaara,” Temari cooed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No …”

Your pleading lived in his mind, and your voice resurrected ghosts. All the ones he had killed, all the blood shed in the name of his bloodlust, his soullessness … Hundreds, maybe thousands. Gaara chafed against the memory of his old self.

Gaara, please … don’t.

“I feel …” Gaara gripped hard at the arms he had crossed, “as though I’ve … relapsed.”

“Lord …” Baki sounded stricken.

“Gaara, no,” Temari said firmly. 

Gaara thought of the desert, of you sleeping beside him. Your trembling breath easing as you fell into slumber beside him was the only peace he had enjoyed that night or since. He’d been so relieved you had come to see him at all. What a miracle. 

But he could still smell fear on you. An image spiked in his mind, thorny and awful, of you, eyes wide as you recoiled. Desperate to get away. Gaara squirmed with the thought. 

“Anyone would have done the same,” Baki said. “You were only trying to protect Lady (Y/n).”

“Baki’s right,” Temari murmured. “It’s only natural to want to protect the ones you lo —“

Temari paused, touched fingers to her lips, surprised by her own near choice of words.

Love.

Did he love you? How would he know? Maybe not, but … You were becoming precious to him. And yet … 

Love is the heart’s desire to serve those precious to us. 

If you weren’t someone he loved, you were someone he was coming to love. 

Had he ruined things? 

He’d been driven by a desire to protect you, true, but it felt a lie to pretend his feelings were strictly heroic, like the liquid hot desire to strangle the man’s neck hadn’t lived beside the need to save you. Gaara stood; Temari’s hand slipped from his shoulder. 

“I know what I have to do,” he said.

Gaara knew Temari understood, though she pretended not to. “What …?”

Gaara clenched his fist. 

“I have to tell her the truth. About my past.”

You were all right. Physically, at least. 

You cradled yourself in bed with a sickened groan as another wave of anxiety set your chest aflame. You pressed a hand to your sternum; the ache there restricted your breathing. Your head was weighed with cotton. You had eaten little, spoken to no one. 

You ached for the obliviousness of sleep, where Hideo awaited to make you laugh, where he and you sat under cloudless skies on uneventful days, where he let you rest your head on his leg and drift off to the sound of his voice, where you were anything but who you were. 

Your head whirled; your options spider-webbed, each one worse than the last. What could you do now? If you told them about your father’s nefarious plans, would they believe you? Would they understand you had changed and had no intention of hurting Gaara? But you had just such intentions in the tent, determined as you were to let it all end. Only Temari had found you, and Gaara’s waking was the only thing that staved off her suspicions. 

I am a fool. You had incriminated yourself by going to his bedside. Your hands wouldn’t be clean because you exposed your father; if anything, it would only look like you were simply trying to cover all your bases.

If you wanted to hurt him, however, you had been given ample opportunities to do so. But —

But but but.

Your webs tangled and knotted. You were selfish. You didn’t want any harm to come to Gaara or his loved ones, but you also didn’t want to sacrifice … whatever this was. This play at a family. This ruse. Despite the panic you suppressed, you had never been so happy.

You touched your lips and remembered the kiss Gaara had left there. 

You raised from bed, the sheets pooling around your abdomen. You couldn’t stay here and drive yourself crazy. And … you were sure Gaara and his siblings were worried, along with Baki. But the absence of people had been refreshing. You were alone and thus had no need to perform.

It’s enough. You’ll just go mad. 

You dressed appropriately: a simple shirt — your beloved fishnet underneath; it made you look and feel stronger —  and pants and heeled sandals. Simple but still pretty. You inspected yourself in the mirror. You combed your hair, combined it again, three times for good measure. You straightened your clothes, eliminating every wrinkle. You wanted to look nice. You liked looking nice, but today it was essential to you. You couldn’t give away your inner turmoil. You wanted Gaara to think you looked nice, too, and, after minutes of excessive grooming, you thought you did. You looked every bit the normal girl you wanted to be. If anyone saw you now, they would see an ordinary villager in Sunagakure. 

 The necklace gave you away.

What you wouldn’t give to be a normal, ordinary girl. A normal father, a normal family. Hideo was the closest thing you ever had to a normal family bond. Protective and kind. And gone. And you didn’t know how or why.

Or who.

Stop pitying yourself and just go. You twisted the doorknob to exit your room. 

“Kankuro? Kankuro! Are you even listening to me?”

Kankuro stamped document after document with automated precision. Only when Temari’s hand came over his own did he pause.

He sighed. “Temari, unless it’s important, please let me get back to work.”

“Look at me.”

Kankuro raised his head, where Temari’s concerned gaze waited for him. 

There she goes, being all motherly again …

“How are Gaara and (Y/n)?” he asked, feeling defeated.

Temari withdrew her hand. “We haven’t seen (Y/n) in a while, but the nurses say she’s well. And Gaara, well …” Temari grimaced. “Kankuro, I can’t help but feel like something bad is going to happen.”

Kankuro shot her an exasperated look. “This again? We’ve been over this —“

“No,” Temari intercepted. “Not about (Y/n), just … in general.”

“This sixth sense of yours would’ve been a little more helpful at the beach, y’know.”

The dig was below the belt and Kankuro knew it, instantly regretted it, but Temari seemed not to mind. “Hey, if I wasn’t busy helping you swindle greasy septuagenarians so you could win fancy pirate coins, I probably would’ve been more helpful.”

Kankuro shuffled sheets of paper to find the one demanding attention.

“I know,” he said solemnly.

“Like I said, we all slipped up.” Temari crossed her arms. “I don’t hold it against you. I thought I could talk to you, is all.”

“You can talk to me, Temari.”

Temari cast her gaze to the floor. “I’m worried about Gaara. He’s beating himself up over that rogue ninja … He thinks he relapsed, Kankuro.”

“Relapsed?” Kankuro parroted. 

“His word, not mine,” Temari said. “It’s been a long time since he’s been that angry and almost killed someone and enjoyed the prospect of it.” Temari fidgeted. “He says he’s going to tell her everything.”

Kankuro’s eyes widened. “Everything?”

“Yep.” Temari sunk into a nearby chair. 

“Well,” Kankuro began. “That’s his business.”

“I can’t help thinking we should interfere. Help him, somehow.”

“No,” Kankuro gave her a pointed look. “If they’re going to get married, there can’t be any secrets. Especially not ones that big. Gaara knows that. His past is one hell of a thing to keep from his fiancé. She deserves to know what she’s getting into.”

Temari faced him. “But his past would be hard to swallow even if she was a ninja. What if she doesn’t understand? If she can’t handle it? And he really likes her … He really likes her.” She paused with this realization, as though it had caught up to her at last. “I can see that. After all, I almost …”

Temari’s sentence died away.

“Only more reason to tell her the truth,” Kankuro said. “If she can’t handle it, then she’s not the one.”

Temari met his eye, the turquoise of hers reminding him so much of their mother. “… What if she leaves him?”

Kankuro’s emotions were tugged by the sorrow in Temari’s voice. Gaara. His little brother, who had lost so, so much, had lived such a harrowing life. Could he take another disappointment? You running away, as the villagers had? Relapse. What a choice of words.

“I trust Gaara,” Kankuro muttered. “He’s stronger than any of us could have imagined, in more ways than one. He knows the risk better than us, too, and what he can handle. The truth has to prevail. After all, what is love based on?”

Temari stared at him crookedly. “When’d you get so smart?”

Kankuro shrugged, secretly thankful for the sudden levity. “When you weren’t looking.” Another shrug. “By watching the two of you.”

“What did you ever do with that medallion, by the way?”

Kankuro dismissed this with a wave of a hand. “Gave it away, like you said.”

Temari doubled back. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Kankuro tossed a sheet of paper. “You were right; anything worth that much should go to the village. In the end, I was happy to be rid of it. Least I could do.”

Temari eyed him as he resumed his stamping. “You’ve really stepped up, Lord Kazekage. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, well.” Kankuro chuckled. “Let’s just be grateful it won’t be permanent.”

You forced yourself to eat a balanced meal in the dining hall. You enjoyed the quiet meal and afterward set your mind to finding Gaara and the others — but it turned out you didn’t need to; a servant found you doodling in the hallway who promised to take you to Gaara.

Gaara had sent for you. 

He brought you to the roof of the Kazekage’s office. He spoke little; the tension the quiet heightened increased the anxiety already latent in you.

You looked toward him; Gaara’s back was to you, the day’s breeze rustling his hair and the long hem of his crimson coat. 

“Gaara …?”

Gaara turned to you. “(Y/n) …” He grimaced, as though the words sitting on his tongue were too bitter for his taste.

You approached him. You had no desire to rush him to speak. Your anxiety spiked a thought — Is he going to confess? — and you drew in a sharp breath. You placed a hand on the railing to steady you, the sandstone stable beneath your palm. You looked out into his village. Cliffs swallowed the village, dramatizing the shadows beginning to creep as the day dwindled. 

“We haven’t spoken for a while,” Gaara said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Oh.” Your shrug coincided with a sheepish smile. “Fine … I haven’t been sleeping too well, but otherwise …”

“Perhaps … it’s because we’re not sleeping together anymore,” Gaara said.

Your head shot up, cheeks red. His shy smile dawned realization in you: he’s joking.

“Oh, har-har,” You said. “When did you become so witty?”

“I’ve learned a thing or two from Kankuro, you could say,” Gaara said. 

You laughed to yourself. A silence fell, though it was not as awkward as you imagined it might be.

“I am sorry I have spoken to you …”

“It’s all right,” You said. “I’ve been …” You struggled, drumming your hands on the railing. “I mean. Gaara, I’ve —”

That night,” Gaara began. “I’m glad you came to me. That … you haven’t come to fear me. I’m sure you must’ve been afraid — in general, if not … of me.”

“Of course,” You said. You had done a lot of thinking about that. Gaara had been driven to rage to save you. It had been horrible, but it was because the rogue ninja had tried to hurt you. And worse; he had been intending to hold you hostage, to drive your father to action. A tradeoff. And the gods only know what he had planned on doing with you in the space between the beginning of your capture and its end. “You did come to save me — twice, actually. From drowning and from him.”

“I wouldn’t have let either happen.”

You nodded, held his gaze. The comment, though obvious, still sent a warm sense of protection through you. One you had never felt at home. If the rogue had succeeded, would your father have spent a dime to ensure your return? Would you have been worth it? Would it have been out of love or to save himself the embarrassment? You didn’t know. You didn’t know.

 Another pause. Gaara broke eye contact first, lowering his gaze to his hand on the railing.

“I’ve been a coward,” Gaara said. “I’ve been … putting off telling you the truth about some things. Allow me an opportunity to share my history with you.”

You blinked before acquiescing with a nod, shifty-eyed though you were.

“Okay,” You said. “But don’t call yourself that; you’re not a coward in the slightest.”

If anything, I’m the coward.

“Reserve your judgment; you may feel differently once I’ve told you everything.”

The sunset colors complimented Gaara so well as he eyed the horizon, seemingly lost in the past.

“Before my birth, the Sand suffered from cuts to our budget from the Wind Daimyo,” Gaara began. “That put the village at a vast disadvantage. The Fourth Kazekage — my father — felt it best to create an ultimate weapon that could heighten the village’s reputation and render us formidable to our rivals. He decided that one of his children would come to house a demon and become that ultimate weapon.”

You froze. A demon. In the sky bound journey to the beach, hand on your hip, Gaara had called it a spirit. Gaara turned to you, appraised your reaction to such a word. Years of practice aided in keeping your expression neutral, and he went on:

“Neither Temari or Kankuro could coexist with this demon, so my father decided I would be the weapon he so desired. By the time I was born, it was already done. It cost me my mother.” Gaara paused. “I was sheltered, like you. My father taught me shinobi arts privately, and I was cared for by my uncle, my mother’s brother, Yashamaru.”

You recognized the name in the madness of the story you were sure was only just beginning. 

“The villagers feared me because of what I was, but I kept trying to reach out … I couldn’t understand why I hurt people when I didn’t want to, why I couldn’t be normal.”

You swallowed. A normal girl.

“My father decided that this sentimentality was an impediment to my development as his tool, and so instructed my uncle to kill me —“

“What?” You placed a hand over your heart. 

Gaara’s lips quirked in an almost-smile, as though your horror was flattering in some way. “My uncle told me my mother had never loved me, and neither had he, before killing himself … I came to believe my life was the only one that mattered — that the sand that rose to protect me at all costs did so without fail. I believed my reason for existing was to kill others and preserve only myself.”

A self-sharpening tool.

“It was deceit,” Gaara said, facing you now. “My father only wanted me to believe all of this so I could be a proper tool for him. He had tried many times to kill me, but eventually stopped when he realized I could be of use once I had my powers under control. He sent me on missions to terrorize his enemies, and surely I killed many of the ninja from your village as well.”

Your village. Hideo. And yet you could not shave off the sympathy you had for Gaara.

“This is all so morbid,” You said. “How could a father be so cruel …”

And yet here you were, your father’s tool, sent to commit atrocities and seed divisions between your two villages. What if the idea had come to your father’s head and not Rasa’s? It scared you, how easily you could have been used in the exact same fashion. How you already were. Of all the things to have in common with Gaara, it had to be this.

“He wished to protect his village at all costs,” Gaara said hastily. “I understand his choice, though it has caused me great pain.”

You stared in disbelief. How? How could he forgive the Fourth for being so depraved? But you remained silent, sensing Gaara was not done.

“I went on killing, caring for no one but myself,” Gaara said. “My siblings were terrified of me. They hated me. Baki, too. The Sand plotted to attack the Leaf, as you know. We succeeded, partially, but then …”

“But then you met Naruto Uzumaki,” You finished for him. The pieces were beginning to click together.

“Yes,” Gaara said. “He was strong because he had those he loved. I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand it. Not at first. But he didn’t come to hate me. He saved me from the emptiness. I had someone who understood me … He changed me.” The dying light was gentle on him as he continued. “I returned to the village, determined to win them over, and show everyone I was sincere in my efforts to live differently and protect them. I discovered my father’s ploys: I really was loved by my mother and Yashamaru, and it only encouraged me to continue on.”

Gaara went on sharing more with you, and when you asked for clarifications, he gave them to you. It was all so much — for you were not a shinobi, but even if you were, it would still be much to swallow — but you tried to remain as silent as you could so as not to interrupt his story.

“I will never truly make up for the mistakes of my past,” Gaara said sorrowfully. “Those like Joseki have made that clear. But I can do what I can to improve.”

Your father hadn’t shared any of this with you. Gaara had been a child. But, you supposed, none of this would have mattered to Father. Your eyes fell over him, admiration flooding you. How could one person be so strong? What an anticlimactic, nihilistic end your mission would have been for Gaara. All that work to change, to do better, all to be murdered in his bed by some harlot …

You resumed your finger-drumming. Gaara raised his head expectantly.

“I am sure this is much to take in,” Gaara said, the edges of his voice tinged with nerves, though he tried to hide it. “But … it was wrong of me to not tell you the moment you arrived in my village. I am sorry.”

“No.” Your eyes stung as you shook your head. “It’s — It’s okay.”

Gaara nodded curtly. He averted his eyes.

“I understand,” You blurted out. 

His head shot up. “You do?”

“As much as I can,” You said. “I don’t hold this — any of this — against you, Gaara.” You came forward, felt him flinch as you caressed his cheek. “If men were half as forgiving, half as strong as you, the world would be a better place.”

He held the hand holding him. “Thank you, (Y/n),” Gaara said with all the softness of a feather.

This is it. You swallowed. Tell him now. Your lips parted to speak but not words were forthcoming. Do it! Your vision blurred; warm tears ran tracks down your face. You cried for him — and for yourself. For all you were too weak to say. 

If only I could be as strong as you, Gaara …

“No.” Gaara gently thumbed your tears away. “Please, don’t …”

You sniffled, hanging your head low. “M’sorry …”

“I didn’t tell you all of this to upset you.” Gaara inched closer. “Let me be the one to cheer you up after all that. There’s something in the greenhouse I’d like to show you.”

“O — Okay.” You tried a smile. “Anything you say.”

Gaara headed toward the door leading away from the roof. And, besotted, you followed him.

It seemed a simple cactus to you, though Gaara insisted it was different. 

“Kankuro gave it to me a day or so after the party,” he explained. “He meant for me to take it with us on our beach trip, but I’m sorry to say I forgot it along the way.”

You evaluated the little desert plant. It was cute. Its rounded leaves raised in a patty-cake like fashion, squat and tiny in its cinnamon-colored pot.

“Probably because I couldn’t understand why it was needed in the first place.” Gaara tilted his head as he inspected the plant further. “I’ve never read about it.”

“It’s not as nice as the one I got you,” You joked, poking the cactus’s leaf, aware of your present-cactus sitting beside on Gaara’s table.

You moved aside when Gaara the botanist came to touch its fat petals. “Kankuro said to drink the water inside.”

Gaara took a small knife from his table and cut into one of the leaves with precision. He took the two little glasses on the table and allowed the water within to leak into them before handing you one.

“Are … Are you sure this is safe?” You asked.

“Kankuro gave it to me.” Gaara picked up the note beside the cactus as you sniffed your glass. “He gave me a note with it that said ‘have fun!’ I don’t know why he wrote that, but I figured this would help lighten the mood and cheer you up after everything I revealed to you.”

“That’s nice.” You glanced at the note before sipping from your glass. You doubled, taken aback by the bittersweet taste. Tart. Like lemon juice. “Wo —Wow.”

Gaara sipped after you. “I see …”

Another sip. You giggled. Relief spread through your veins as the melodrama of the day … fell away … like vapor … for some reason. 

Gaara sipped again. “Hm.” His cheeks pinkened. 

“I think we should” — You stumbled, placed a hand on the table — “sit down …”

Gaara took your advice. The two of you settled on the floor of one of the greenhouse aisles, admiring the succulents hidden away behind glass displays. Gaara’s gourd sat abandoned by the wall.

Another sip. You giggled some more, hugging yourself. Gaara’s face grew pinker with every sip.

“You’re much prettier than the girls in the Icha Icha novels,” he said.

You cackled and the sound was ugly, witchy almost, in your throat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Ohh, I love those books.”

“They’re very strange.” Gaara tilted his head as though to reconsider. “But very well-written.”

“You only say they’re strange because you don’t understand them.” You nudged Gaara. 

“I suppose you’re right about that …” Gaara’s arm brushed yours as he swayed beside you. “Sometimes, one chapter comes back to me in particular. The one where the woman catches her husband with the vacuum cleaner?”

You guffawed. “Oh, that chapter was bitchin’.”

“Yes …” Gaara was blinking a lot. “That’s the word.”

“You’ll come to understand when you have more experience.” You shot your arm in the air. “Time for another lesson —!” You caught yourself about to fall. “Whoa … Hehe!”

Gaara helped to steady you with a ginger touch to your shoulder. “Be careful …”

You faced him, your head lolling against the back drawers. He was so beautiful. A desert hottie. Ha, hot. You pounced on him, fastening a leg over his own to straddle him. Gaara held your hips as you slithered hands under his collar.

“You have nice skin for someone who lives in the desert,” You said. 

“Likewise,” he quipped.

You pecked Gaara on the nose before brushing it with your own with a purr.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to help you understand the books better,” You sat on him properly, “and why the characters do what they do.”

Gaara held you tight to him. A blink and he was on top of you. 

“You’re strong!” You kneaded the muscles of his arms underneath his sleeves.

Gaara bent down to plant a kiss to your neck — before giving you several. 

“Mmm …” You turned your head to allow him access to more skin. “Gaara …”

“One of the men in the books does this to the woman before kissing her some more,” Gaara said. “I understand this.”

Your fingers threaded in his hair, keeping him close. “You do?” You murmured.

“Yes,” Gaara whispered. “And when I imagine you in her place, I understand it even more …”

You ran your tongue over the shell of Gaara’s ear as he kissed the junction of your neck and jaw. He shivered under your hands. “You think I’m as pretty as her?”

“Prettier.” He nibbled into the dip at your jaw’s end. “Much prettier.”

Gaara’s lips trailed up your jaw until he kissed your mouth, pulling back only to run his tongue over your lips. 

“He did that to her, too.”

You pulled Gaara’s face forward, your lips crashing to his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands buried in his hair as he reciprocated. You nipped and flicked your tongue against his lower lip, yearning your message to be understood. Success; Gaara opened his mouth and your tongues met, running over one another. Gaara’s hands pawed at your breasts; your nipples came to life under his kneading.

“This isn’t — ah — the first time we’ve done this,” You murmured. “Not to me. I’ve had dreams …”

“I’m flattered.” Gaara’s low baritone rumbled on your lips. 

“Mmm.” You arched your back as Gaara pinched your nipples. “Aha!”

He bucked into you and you felt the unmistakable stab of his erection. He returned to your neck to bite and lick there. 

“We need to be nude, so we can do everything the characters do in the books,” Gaara said, voice husky. “Like — mm — the scene where the man puts his penis in the woman’s mouth …”

You sighed as Gaara tugged on your earlobe. “Okay …” Gaara’s cock in your mouth. Mmmm … Wouldn’t be the first time you’d imagined it …

“Show me,” he ordered.

You rolled him over and heard the fallaway sound of a pot crashing onto the floor, but paid no mind to it as you lifted your shirt and the fishnet with it from your body and tossed both.

“Absolutely, I will.” You guided Gaara’s hands to your bra cups, sighed as he kneaded the soft flesh. “I’d do anything for you, Gaara …”

You were so preoccupied with the buttons of his trench coat you did not hear the door open.

“Gaara?!” 

“Lady (Y/n)?!”

You raised your head toward the entrance. Temari and Baki stood in the threshold, mouths agape and blue-faced.

“Hi, guys!” You waved to them.

“You know,” the nurse began, “for someone who doesn’t like to drink, Lord Kazekage sure is under the influence a lot …”

Kankuro looked over his shoulder, murder in his eyes. “’Fuck you say about my brother?”

The nurses jumped. 

“Nothing, nothing!  My — My — My apologies, Lord Kankuro …!” He said.

They scurried away to continue caring for Gaara and you. The two of you were laid on separate beds, stars in your eyes and surely hallucinating, if the nonsense the two of you spouting was anything to go by.

“Let me get this straight.” Temari pinched the space between her eyebrows. “You gave our brother a psychoactive cactus and planned on getting him high during our beach trip?” 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Kankuro cried. “I totally forgot about it and — and we got back and there was all the paperwork that needed to be done —”

“Why is Kankuro’s skin purple?” You asked dreamily, head lolling from side to side. You pointed at him. “That’s way too much makeup, sir!” 

Baki sighed against the wall as a wreath of stars spun around your head. Chuuyou stared at you with news eyes — Kankuro doubted your guardian had ever seen you like this — and seemingly at a loss for what to do. 

Baki hadn’t said a word since he helped Temari carry the two of you to the infirmary. He asked one of the nurses, “Are they going to be all right?”

“Certainly, Lord Baki,” a nurse said. “They will be fine.”

“(Y/n),” Gaara said. “Shukaku is speaking to me … He’s telling me about a great skin regimen!”

“The sand demon?” You gasped. “Tell me!”

Baki blinked at the nurse.

“Uh, the psychoactive elements of the purple pandemonium cactus will run their course,” he said, “then, they will be fine.”

“Purpl —? This is such a mess.” Temari facepalmed. “I should be kicking your ass, Kankuro —“

“Don’t,” Gaara urged dreamily. “Peace must prevail …”

“I can’t believe you thought this” — Temari gestured to the two of them — “would be funny.”

“At least they didn’t …” Baki stalled, blanching, “ … go too far.”

The three of them stood in an awkward pause. Apparently, you had been found shirtless while riding his poor brother like a pony. Kankuro, already considering you more of a sister than anything, cringed at the mental image. You were so dignified, all without being the snob he had anticipated when he first met you. You would be horrified once the cactus water wore off and you returned to your senses. He sighed; even when he tried to fix his problems, he caused more of them. 

“I’m sorry,” Kankuro pressed. “This is all my fault. I’m not denying it. But we’ve got bigger problems now; neither of them can be seen like this — and what if they were seen? It’s not like those greenhouse windows are tinted.”

“One problem at a time, Kankuro,” Baki insisted, exasperated. 

“For the time being, at least they’re all right,” Temari said. She turned to Kankuro and sighed. “I’m … starting to think maybe you’re right.”

Kankuro raised his brows in surprise. “Do my ears deceive me?”

Temari looked back to Gaara, limp on the bed as nurses minded his vitals. “I think I do have a mommy problem. I saw them in the greenhouse getting all … Y’know, and I was horrified — but not for the right reasons. I was thinking about Gaara’s … innocence. Not his political career. And then I wondered: why? Gaara’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions.”

“Lord Kazekage!” one of the nurses tried to hold Gaara down. “You must stay put —!”

“But the sun looks like Naruto Uzumaki!” Gaara insisted. “We have to go outside; he wants to tell us how to make ramen to honor the gods!” 

“Maybe he shouldn’t be making his own decisions right now,” Kankuro quipped.

Temari managed a weak laugh as the nurses relaxed her brother. “I shouldn’t have an opinion on his sex life. I’m just so used to protecting the two of you. I’ve done it all my life. But, I need to let go …” She looked up at Kankuro. “Do you think he told her?”

“Uh.” Kankuro scratched his head. “She knows who Shukaku is? So, uh-huh. I’m guessing it went well.”

“Too well.” Temari blinked. “All joking aside, you’re right; this can’t get out. It would cause a scandal and put Gaara at a disadvantage. His role as Kazekage would be in question.”

“We’ll do some reconnaissance,” Baki said. You started singing to yourself, waving your arms in the air, attending some invisible concert, and he sighed. “Do you know how long the effects last, Kankuro?”

“Erm,” Kankuro said. “Let’s just say they’ve got a long night ahead of them.”

You cracked eyes open — only to be met with the headache to end all headaches.

You moaned, shifted to your side. Your vision was blurry as you pressed one side of your face into the pillow, the other eye focused enough to see Baki in a chair beside you.

“What happened?” You croaked at him.

“It’s all right.” The creak of a chair, a hand caressing your back that must have been Baki’s. “There was an … incident.” 

“Oh, good, she’s awake!” a feminine voice said, definitely Temari’s.

“My head …” You lay on your back, frowning at the throb in your head. Baki placed a hand on your forehead. 

“The headache must come from being dehydrated,” he said. “Temari, get the nurses.”

“What?” You groaned as Temari left to obey Baki. “What are you talking about? What incident —?” 

You froze. Your eyes grew wide. Reality nudged — then crashed and burned beside you.

Each new memory unlocked compounded your horror. The cactus, the sluttiness — oh, not to mention the night before where you and Gaara bumbled all night long, reduced to toddlers the nurses had to work overtime to care for.

“Oh gods.” You curled into a ball, burning with shame. Gaara! You propped up, turned to see Gaara on the bed beside you, quiet but awake and averting your eyes. You laid flat on your back, the ceiling light blinking at you. Baki moved to turn it off so as to not aggravate your headache, your only light now filtering in through the window. “Baki, I’m a disgrace.”

“No, you’re not,” Baki assured you.

How can he say that? If father hears about this, he’ll murder me. That was the best case scenario. You rubbed your sore throat. What if someone learned of the poison in your necklace …

The necklace. You caressed your bare neck. The necklace that was gone.

It was gone .

You shot up, headache be damned. Temari had returned with nurses, a hand maneuvering the necklace to place a glass of water closer to you.

“Give that back!” You cried. “Right now!”

Heads turned to you. Temari froze.

You caught yourself. “Sorry, I … I’m sorry. Thank you,” You added as a nurse carried a food tray to you. “It’s just — that’s precious to me, and —”

“It’s all right.” Temari chuckled as she offered you the necklace. “I know you have questions and it’s a long story, but basically it’s all Kankuro’s fault. So, don’t worry.”

You nodded, head thumping; your previous outburst had done nothing to assuage it. 

“Drink the water first,” Baki instructed. 

You did as he asked, sipping the glass of water. You fastened your necklace around your neck miserably before addressing the tray of food. You didn’t want to look at food, but — 

“(Y/n) …”

Gaara had abandoned his bed and came to yours. He stood before you. You blinked as he bowed.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” he said. “Truly. I should have been more careful.”

“Oh, Gaara,” You cooed. “No …”

“I haven’t been a good host. My behavior in the greenhouse was … perverted.”

“We weren’t in control of our actions,” You pressed. I can’t say I regret it entirely, either …

Gaara looked away. “I know women like to wait until they’re married for … that sort of thing.”

“It couldn’t be helped, I think,” You assured him with a nervous laugh.

“Both of you should eat,” a nurse said gently as a second dropped another tray off at the foot of Gaara’s bed. “The psychoactive properties of the cactus have clearly worn off quite a bit, but we shouldn’t get too cocky. Light meals will help.”

Gaara nodded to the nurse.

“So, (Y/n),” Temari said. “Is my brother a good kisser or what?”

You spluttered. Baki nearly dropped the tray he was adjusting for you.

“Te — Temari!” You couldn’t breathe.

Temari snickered. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

It was another day and countless glasses of water later before your symptoms eroded completely. You were sure your vision would forever be tinted purple before that, too, cleared up. The nurses cleared you from the infirmary and you thanked them a thousand times over for their help, and apologized they had to work so hard. 

But you were pleased. You were free and you could eat solids again! You were nearly at the end of your second week in Sunagakure, and it had felt like an eternity.

Gaara was avoiding you; he had been allowed to leave the infirmary before you and had not returned to visit you. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Maybe it was for the best, you thought, strolling around the sand palace. Memories of the greenhouse blared more vivid than ever. The kisses, Gaara’s hands on your skin, what you had said to each other. Your face grew hot to recall it. Would you ever be able to face him again?

You groaned as you turned a corner. And just when we had made so much progress. Gaara had opened up to you and, though you hadn’t afforded him the same courtesy out of fear, you had been overjoyed to earn his vulnerability. Your shoulders dipped in disappointment when you came across a door you hadn’t seen before. It was arched with a golden knob. Movement from within. You did the polite thing and knocked.

“Come in.” It was Kankuro’s voice.

With that, you pushed the door open and looked around — it was a museum of puppets. Some sitting on the floor while others hung from the ceiling. It all would’ve been rather creepy, if not for Kankuro in the center, Crow in his lap like a baby while his father polished his arm. 

“Oh,” Kankuro’s voice depressed. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Better than ever. I haven’t seen you in days.” You closed the door. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh …” Kankuro smiled faintly. “Yeah, sorry about that … I finished up paperwork early today, so decided to get back to my old hobby.” He lifted Crow’s arm to indicate his old hobby. “I’m sorry about the whole cactus thing. I haven’t been able to formally apologize; no time …”

“It’s okay, really!” You said. 

“It’s really not,” Kankuro said. “What if we had needed Gaara to be, y’know, lucid?”

“We didn’t need to dive right into it the way we did. We could’ve inspected it some more.” 

“You weren’t as cautious because you trusted me,” Kankuro said. He sighed. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I deserve to feel like shit.”

You leaned against his table. “Where did you even get it? Where’d you hear about it?”

“Read about it,” Kankuro said. “It was in one of the books I had sent to the office while I was doing research on …” He paused. “Other stuff … I thought it’d be funny.”

A beat. “It was kind of funny,” You said.

“Maybe.” Kankuro lowered Crow’s arm to face you. “But, it was irresponsible, really, with everything going on.”

You couldn’t refute that, but you didn’t want Kankuro feeling bad, either. You liked him happy.

You tried to throw Kankuro a bone. “It could’ve been worse.” 

“What if you and Gaara had gotten like that when that rogue had attacked you? What if it had a violent effect on Gaara and he hurt you or went on a rampage? What if it had killed you both?”

All horrific scenarios. All totally possible. The bone plunged into the abyss. “Huh … May — Maybe don’t think about those things?”

“The truth is …” Kankuro began. “It was fun to be able to relate to Gaara as a brother first and the Kazekage second, like old times. I was thrilled about having a new edition to our family. Nervous at first, obviously, but then I met you, and you were so …” Kankuro motioned toward you. “You. The last few years have been so bloody. The Fourth Ninja War and everything. Madara — you don’t need to know who that is, honestly, count yourself lucky. It was nice to have things be so lighthearted … But, I got carried away. I truly am sorry.”

You said nothing, soaking in the indirect flattery. You watched as Kankuro cradled Crow in his lap. “You really love Gaara, don’t you?”

Kankuro, satisfied with his job, set Crow aside. “I do. After everything he’s been through — after everything Rasa put him through … He’s really come far. Far beyond what anyone would have expected of him. He’s gained the respect of our whole village. I hate that I might’ve jeopardized that.”

“He told me,” You said. “About his past.”

Kankuro waited expectantly. “And …?”

“It changes nothing about the way I’ve come to feel about him,” You said. “Besides deepening my respect. I wish there was some way I could excise the pain he’s suffered from all he’s come to learn from it.”

Kankuro appeared stunned. “That’s … I feel the exact same way.”

He’s so much like Hideo. You tilted your head, and it was like seeing a reflection in water. You found your brother’s face in Kankuro’s.

“Don’t worry about anything.” Hideo’s smile replaced the sun. “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.”

Kankuro stared. “Hey. (Y/n)?”

“… Yes?”

He stared. “Promise me, no matter what, you’ll take care of Gaara. Be a good wife to him? He deserves that.”

Your heart lurched, but you remained still.

“I will,” You whispered. “I promise.”

You couldn’t bear Kankuro’s presence anymore and so promised to see him at dinner. You stalked the halls like a ghost before venturing toward the hall leading to your room. 

You retired to your room, tired from nothing. 

A hawk waited for you.

Panic seized your heart and wet your palms. The hawk flapped its wing in hello as your stomach spun and spun and spun.

Oh, gods. You could see your father’s wrath seeping from the letter. You wanted to hole up in the corner and die, but your hands worked to undo the letter from the hawk’s latch.

You waited a beat or two before unfurling it. The hawk abandoned your window, leaving you alone with your father’s words. You exhaled through chattering teeth and braced the moment you saw the black ink. 

Dearest (Y/n), Forgive me. 

“What?” You gawked, sinking to the foot of your bed. 

My sweet girl, my precious star come from heaven to grace my earth, will you forgive an old man of his foibles? I have spent these last few days deep in thought. I have been horrible to you. My only daughter. It is only natural you come to despise me. How Hideo would despise me as well, if he knew. However, only the gods could comprehend how much I’ve missed you. By the time you receive this letter, I will be on my way to Sunagakure —

“What?!”  You slipped to the floor.

— to help with the wedding preparations. I long to meet my future son-in-law. Please let everyone know I mean to arrive in a matter of days. Yours truly, Father.

You set the letter aside. 

Your father was coming here.

And no word about the mission you had been sent on. He only desired to meet Gaara. Hope brightened inside of you. Maybe he meant it …? Hell, after the weeks you’d had, you were ready to believe anything. Only one clue suggested Father’s change of heart might be real:

He never left the Oasis village. In all your life, he had been too paranoid to step one foot away from his home. And why, if you were already here? If he was sincere …

If he was sincere … You were free. 

You would never have to reveal your mission — or even better, maybe your father would reveal it all and ask for forgiveness? The future — always so bleak — vivified, star-bright inside you. The dream became more of a reality to you. You could marry Gaara and put this all behind you …

Or it was all a trick, and the old man plotted to strangle you in your sleep. That was possible, too.

You had only one option: wait until you could speak to your father in person. If you tried to go forth with his wishes or expose the plan, what if you ruined everything forever? If he was coming, a confrontation with him would either confirm or deny your wishes. 

You wouldn’t get in your own way. You would wait for him to come and reveal his true colors.

You went to bed with a letter you left intact.

You twirled your fork at the breakfast table, eyes on the door. Everyone else was present — Kankuro, Temari, even Baki, who joined for breakfast occasionally. Gaara was the missing link. Apparently, he had resumed his place in the office for the morning. But the truth was glaring: Gaara was still avoiding you.

You slammed your fork down after a ten minute grace period. “This is just silly! He can’t still be thinking about the greenhouse!”

“He can,” Baki said, arms crossed. “Speaking of, from what we gathered, neither of you were seen. And there’s been no gossip our shinobi have picked up on the streets —”

“That’s all important, but that’s not what I meant,” You dismissed with a sigh. “He’s still ashamed personally. I don’t see why, though; I took it as a compliment.”

Baki cleared his throat as Temari and Kankuro snickered, the former rotating her plate for no reason at all.

“I’ve already forgiven him and it wasn’t his fault! He’s a man,” You continued to rant. For once, you could enjoy his company without the mission hanging over your head, and today he chose to be absent? “He has urges, and so what? So do I —“

“Perhaps something came up.” Baki hastened to change the subject. “Gaara’s not known to be late.”

“He’s been avoiding me for days,” You pressed. With a pout, you added, “I was hoping we could discuss something …”

You hadn’t dropped the news of your father’s coming yet.

Kankuro shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know how to speak to you after all that.”

“You stay out of this,” Temari teased.

“Speaking of matters to discuss,” Baki said. “I choose to join you all today because many shinobi from Oasis and Suna will be at this wedding,” Baki turned to you. “We’ll, of course, need to combine the traditions of both villages so as not to aggravate either. I wanted to know if there were any specific traditions we need to keep in mind.”

“Well, actually,” You began. “I think we should wait a little longer to talk about this. My f —“

A ninja poofed into the dining room, crouched in a bow. 

“What’s happening?” Temari set her food aside, alert.

“Lord Kazekage has requested an audience with you all,” the ninja said. “It is of the utmost importance.”

The four of you piled into the Kazekage’s office and were greeted with the sounds of crying. Gaara’s back was turned to you all as he looked out the window. A girl was kneeling on the floor, sobbing.

“What’s going on here?” Baki shut the door. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Temari appraised the girl — she gawked. “Matsuri?”

Matsuri’s sob wracked her body.

“Why is she crying?” Kankuro asked. “Gaara?”

Gaara turned to face the group, looking crestfallen. He raised his hand and a letter appeared.

The ninja who had brought you all stepped forward. “Matsuri was caught conversing with some gossip columnist about what she saw in the greenhouse a few days ago.”

The room erupted in cries of confusion. 

“What?” Kankuro said.

“You can’t be serious!” Temari cried out.

Your gaze remained on Gaara, but he wouldn’t look at you.

“It wasn’t me!” Matsuri was hysterical, waving her hand out. “It wasn’t! It was forged!”

“She was seen by some personnel. She was leaving the ‘office,’” the ninja was heavy on air quotes, “of the columnist only a few hours ago.”

“No!” Matsuri howled. “I’d never do that!”

“You might, if you thought it would send (Y/n) home.” You could hear the sharp disappointment in Temari’s voice as she approached Matsuri. “Remember how sad you were at the party? You even asked me if Gaara had to marry, if there was some way he could reconsider.”

Matsuri stammered as heads turned to her. 

“I even had to step away to console you,” Temari added. She sighed, and with a voice fit for scolding a child: “Do you have … any idea what this could do to Gaara’s reputation?”

You backed away until you hit a wall, anxiety squeezing breath out of your lungs and refusing to let new oxygen in.

“Please, I didn’t do it!” Matsuri cried. “Please, please —”

“This is bad,” Baki hissed. “What if the council learns of this?” 

“They may already know if she’s” — Kankuro shot a finger in Matsuri’s direction — “been unloading our dirty laundry everywhere. You know how quickly rumors spread— and the old geezers like to pretend they’re above it all. They’ll be the first to get the scope.”

Oh gods. Not this. Not now. Having this all happen privately was one thing, but now the village could know? 

And your father, who was coming to the village? Father would know.

No. No. If he had new plans, would this ruin those, too? You couldn’t breathe; there would be no surviving his rage. Slut, whore, harlot. He would disown you.

No, keep it down. You can’t panic now. No. No.

“It wasn’t me …” Matsuri sobbed miserably. “Please …”

“Matsuri,” Gaara said, the first word he had spoken since you had all arrived. “Stand up. Please.”

Matsuri obeyed, standing slowly to meet her maker. She wrung hands in her tear-stained shirt.

“We all believe in second chances here,” Gaara said.

“Not all of us,” Kankuro hissed. 

“And the truth has yet to be revealed to its full capacity.” Gaara ignored his brother. “They’ll be a hearing for you. Understand?”

Matsuri sniffed, knowing better than to argue with her Kazekage, and nodded. Gaara gestured something you did not understand and more ninja appeared, kneeling before him.

“Send her away,” Gaara told them. “Keep eyes on her, but do not harm her.”

They did so, dragging Matsuri out the door, one of her arms in one of theirs.

“What an idiot!” Kankuro slammed a hand against the desk. “Just when we thought she finally got over her little crush on you — but no, she just had to double down!” He threw his hands up. “This is ridiculous! How can she say she loves you and then go and —”

“This is all your fault!” Temari rounded on him. “You and your fucking purple pandemonium —“

“We have to think of the future now,” Baki said. “We must work to mitigate the damage Matsuri might have caused.”

“I knew this was going to come to bite us in the ass somehow.” Temari moaned into her hand. “It can’t get any worse …”

“It can.” You were about to shatter to pieces. You stood outside of yourself, seeing words leave your mouth. “I received a letter from my father last night. He’s on his way.”

…

The room erupted.

“Thanks for jinxing it, Temari!” Kankuro shouted.

“What?” Temari cried. “He’s coming here? He can’t!”

“He can,” Gaara said calmly. “That’s good news, isn’t it? I finally get to meet my future father-in-law.”

“Lord Kazekage,” Baki said. “Read the room.”

“He can’t come now!” Temari picked at her ponytails. “We have nothing prepared for him! We haven’t even started preparing for the wedding yet!”

“He’d like to help with preparations, actually,” You said, desperate to cling to something to keep yourself grounded. “H — How, I have no idea —” 

“He cannot learn of this, most of all,” Baki said. 

Finally, Gaara’s eyes found you. He studied you as the others argued. He stepped away from his desk and came to you.

“Who wants to bet with our luck he already knows,” Kankuro threw up his hands.

“We can’t think the worst,” Baki said.

“All because of a stupid plant!” Temari cried.

“Everyone calm down,” Gaara said above the chaos. 

Heads turned to him. His attention was on you, however; he took your hand in his. His calm pulse, thrumming through his palm, soothed your own.

“The villagers are not nearly as fickle as all that,” he muttered. “They will understand (Y/n) and I are young and soon to be married.”

It was a few seconds before Kankuro shrugged. “You know, he’s got a point.” 

“That may be true, Lord Kazekage,” Baki began. “But you will have detractors who will take this misstep to create division.”

“Certainly,” Gaara said without a beat passed. “The next few days will be essential. Without a doubt, the council will want a word with me. We will handle that as a team. We can also address Matsuri,” Gaara paused; the hurt darkened his face. “and prepare for Lord Boutoku’s arrival.

No one spoke, but you could feel the spirits in the room lifting. 

Gaara smiled faintly. “Even if we must spend all day working out these issues, it will get done.”

“All right, Gaara. You win.” Kankuro sighed and turned to Baki. “Mind splitting that migraine medication with me?”

“I second that,” Temari said. 

By the time preparations were ironed out, it was sundown. 

“Sheesh,” Kankuro said. “I’ve never wanted to rest so bad.” He held the door open for all of you. “You coming?”

“I’ll be a moment,” Gaara said. “I would like to speak to (Y/n) for a while.”

With no objections, Kankuro, Temari, and Baki exited, leaving you alone with your fiancé. 

The moment they were gone, you collapsed into a chair. Despite your fatigue, though, you were blown away by Gaara’s strength. Nothing threw him off. And despite your spiraling — and the spiraling of everyone else — he had simply taken control. You could see why he was the Kazekage.

It was so attractive.

“(Y/n),” Gaara said, coming to the front of the desk with arms crossed. “I noticed you earlier. Your breathing was rapid, and you looked ill. Are you all right?”

The panic inside of you then was the panic inside of you now. You had only numbed it with Gaara’s help, but it had manifested in other ways, like the exhaustion gnawing at your bones now. 

“… No,” You said. 

Gaara knelt. “It’s all right not to be.”

His words uncorked something in you. Pain stabbed your throat, and the heat under your skin disturbed you. “I’m so afraid …”

Gaara came forward and enveloped you in a hug. Once you recovered from the surprise, you hid in the crook of his shoulder. He was steady, an anchor for you to cling to. You hugged him harder.

“I won’t allow for this arrangement to fail,” he said. “I will prove myself worthy of you.”

You laughed in disbelief. “Like you haven’t already?” You leaned back to meet his eye. “You were so strong and composed. I know how much Matsuri means to you, and I’m sorry. Thank you. I … I don’t think I could do any of this without you. I’m so tired.”

Humility hung Gaara’s head. “I am happy to have impressed you. I feel fatigued, as well. And …” He blushed. “If circumstances were different, I would prefer for you to share my bed like before. When we were in my tent …”

Ah, yes. Sleeping … Sleeping with Gaara. Weren’t there other ways to deal with stress?

You withdrew your hands. You did not want to think about sleeping with Gaara. Not now.

Gaara moved away as well. Neither of you spoke in the elastic stretch of time. Your eyes flickered to his lips … You thought of how he had kissed you, licked you in the greenhouse. How ready he was to devour you. Show me. You shivered. What you wouldn’t give for him to top you now, your legs wrapped around him as he laid you onto his desk …

You cleared your throat as you left your chair. You looked away from Gaara’s face before he could notice the hungry expression lingering on yours.

“I know you’re not feeling your best,” Gaara said. “But is there anything I can do to help?”

Please don’t ask me that. There’s so much you could do — do to me.

“No,” You said. “I’m better now, Gaara. Really!” 

Gaara was not convinced. “I don’t like it when you lie about your feelings.”

His bluntness surprised you. 

I lie to you all the time, you just don’t know.

He stepped toward you. He was only a few inches taller than you, but with such a commanding presence, he loomed. “I hope you don’t think I’ve been avoiding you.”

You raised your head, desperately trying to hold your own. “Oh no?”

“It’s the truth.” Gaara’s fingers grazed your own. “Despite leaving the infirmary before you, it took me some time to recover from … all we did.”

You swallowed. Were you supposed to take that as an insult or a compliment?

“I’m not usually touched,” Gaara said. “Nor do I touch others … But sometimes, I still feel you on my skin.” He wrapped fingers around yours. “Please, let me be the one to bring you peace. If you need me to …”

You blushed. What was he saying? You couldn’t talk about this! Not now! And … You couldn’t use him to make yourself feel better.

“Gaara …” You backed away, your fingers falling from his grasp in the process. “I’m so tired. If I seem off, it’s because I need to sleep. Thank you for everything. I mean it. But I really am fine.” You bowed to show your respect for his compassion. “Goodnight.”

Gaara let the moment fall. He studied you still as you inched toward the door, but did nothing to stop you.

“Goodnight,” he muttered to you as you hurried out the door. 

You returned to your room hot for an entirely different reason. You changed into a nightgown before slipping into bed, but the idea of sleep was risible as your skin tortured you with phantom memories of Gaara’s lips at your neck, hands at your breasts, erection pressing into your inner thigh …

What would he have done had the two of you gone uninterrupted? He was clearly inexperienced, but his passion could make up for that …Definitely. You squeezed your legs. You would show him what to do and then, just like before, his fervor would lead the way …

You throbbed.

You couldn’t sleep like this.

You shivered at the memory of Gaara’s baritone in your ear, hot breath on your skin … 

“Gaara …” You breathed into your pillow as your hand snaked past the hem of your nightgown. Your fingertips grazed the fat of your clothed vulva. You gasped; the sharp pleasure sent you squeezing your thighs together. You fidgeted to allow your hand more access, tapped your clit gently. 

Gaara’s weight came over you. His tongue ran across yours, a moan low in his throat as you unclasped the buttons of his trench coat —

“Mm …” You slipped your hand past the elastic of your panties. Your folds, already moist, wet your fingers as you found a rhythm.

“(Y/n) …” Gaara’s erection kneaded into your thigh, poking as his lips sucked against the tender spots of your neck. His hands shadowed your bare breasts as he bucked into you —

“Don’t stop!”  You clung to him as he fucked you, his cock stuffing you. “Just like that, come on, oh, gods —“

You flicked and worked your clit, quickening your pace as you replayed the mental image of engulfing Gaara’s cock, your fingers now his in your reimagining. You rolled on your back and spread your legs for easier access to your clit, your breath tapering into soft pants.

“Come, (Y/n),” Gaara ordered — in that tone, with that voice. “Come for me, come …!”

“Gaara!” Your head fell into the pillow, your fingers frantically circling your clit as your walls clenched around nothing. You held Gaara in your mind as stars exploded behind your eyelids. You settled your back, pained from arching, into the mattress. You rolled your fingers now from pure habit as you rode out your climax.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick folds, overrun with arousal. You should get up, clean yourself, but the exhaustion seduced your eyes to flutter closed, and sleep took you instead.

Members of the Suna council filtered into the room — and froze when they spotted the four of you already seated.

You corrected your posture, forced a poker face you had come to master. Today, you discarded the casual wear you had become used to and had opted for one of the many kimonos you had brought to Sunagakure. It seemed the right thing to do. You strove to use every tool in your arsenal to appear ladylike and good-natured. Especially after your … eventful night. 

“Elders.” Gaara greeted them with a respectful nod, though he remained seated.

“Wha —“ Joseki stammered. “How —?”

“It seems,” Ebizo began, studying Gaara as he found a seat, “our Lord Kazekage has beaten us to the punch.”

You eyed the group but could find no female. “Where is Ikanago?”

“If you must know,” Ebizo grunted as he lowered into his seat, “Lady Ikanago was so excited to hear about this … greenhouse fiasco, she had an accident at home and now nurses a broken hip. She will be absent for our meetings until further notice.”

“I’m …” You struggled as Kankuro snickered from across you, “sorry to hear about that.”

“If the Kazekage insists, then we will get to the point,” Joseki said. He still stood as his contemporaries sat, ready to round on Gaara. “What is this we’ve been hearing about drugs and — and orgies?”

“Pardon?” Temari said.

Oh no. You resisted a facepalm; it sounded like the rumors were doing what all rumors did: bifurcate, multiply, mutate. So the story now was that you and Gaara were throwing orgies while getting high? This was what you had to deal with? For the first time since worries about rumors began, you felt a surge of resentment for Matsuri. 

Thanks a lot .

“Nothing but mendacious chatter, I assure you,” Gaara’s voice was placid, ever composed. He sat with you on his right, siblings on his left, his fingers knitted together on the table. “Please, Elder, sit down.”

“Reckless, My Lord, reckless — even if the rumors are exaggerated!” Goza leaned forward. “Under the influence, again? My Lord, we warned you about a second time.”

“And I abided by the warning,” Gaara retorted. “I was simply caught unawares.”

“Lord Kazekage,” Ryusa said, already exasperated. “It is only a matter of time before this information travels outside of the village. We will be a laughing stock!”

“And what of your student? This Matsuri?” Sajo said. “She’s awaiting a hearing! Who will attend it?”

The council room flared with so much chatter it was hard to decipher who was saying what where. 

“So disgraceful —”

“If she’s proven guilty —?”

“We cannot afford what this gossip will cost us —!”

You glanced at Joseki, who was silent. And why wouldn’t he be? All he had to do was allow the council to speak for him. This is what he’s always wanted: for the council to turn against Gaara …

“Lord Kazekage,” Ebizo spoke above the rest, compelling the others to silence, “understands his role as Kage. I highly doubt anything that has been said today hasn’t been considered by himself a thousand times over.”

“We can only wonder, now, can’t we?” Sajo shot a finger toward you. “And what do you have to say for yourself?” 

You shot him your coldest noblewoman stare in return. “I do not tremble at the prospect of foul rumors and neither does my fiancé; only the shallow entertain them.”

“Perhaps you should,” Sajo replied. “You are to be married to Lord Kazekage in a month’s time. You are meant to be a lady and yet you run around like a — ”

“Enough.”

Despite the council’s attempts to intimidate him, Gaara’s title and gravitas forced them quiet. Heads turned to him expectantly, but for seconds more he built anticipation.

Oh, boy, here it comes …

“For years, I have suffered the cold harangues of this council,” Gaara began. “You have given me orders. You have insulted my family. Yet, I have taken it all in stride for the good of the village and those of you who purport to love it and hold it in high esteem.”  

“Lo —Lord Kazekage.” Sajo gaped at his Kazekage. “Do you accuse us of simple lip service?”

“Sajo is right,” Ryusa said. “You can’t expect —?”

“I expect you to advise me.” Gaara stood and pressed palms flat on the table. “So, advise me. If you love this village as much as you say, you will rally behind me. You will help to alleviate the chaos this incident might have caused. So far, I have received aid only from my siblings, future wife, and former sensei. This is what they have come up with.” Gaara motioned to Temari. “My sister, Lady Temari, will take to the streets to answer questions. My brother, Lord Kankuro, will carry the brunt of this incident and admit it was caused by his prank. Though, I doubt the people of the Sand will be so quick to throw me away on simple gossip as my council.”

“I agree with Lord Kazekage,” Baki said. “I think his role in defeating Madara Uchiha will have certainly solidified their love for him.” 

Kankuro held up defensive hands. “Just our opinion, however.”

“Regardless,” Gaara went on as if neither Baki or Kankuro had spoken, “whether or not we succeed in containing and curtailing this mishap will be on your hands as well as mine.”

No one spoke. It was a tall order; something told you the urge to critique the young Kage while feeling no responsibility to guide him was a tantalizing one. But if his failure was theirs? Less so.

You thought of how timid Gaara was with you upon your first meeting, how even a hand hold had seemed promiscuous. He was a gentleman always, and the insinuation he would rope you into group sex — and it would be easy for many to believe — was not funny to you. Your boiling blood challenged your poker face. Do they really have so little faith in him? After everything he’s done?

Ebizo was first to break the silence. “My sister, Lady Chiyo, had faith in our Lord Kazekage. As do I. He is a strong man, one of conviction.” Ebizo gazed at you consolingly. “And Lady (Y/n), though I know little of her, shows bravery in facing these rumors head on. Their mistakes are ones any one of us would have made in our youth. These are peaceful times, fit for celebration. Perhaps these two got carried away with their feelings. I agree with Lord Kazekage’s assessment of the situation.”

You mouthed a thank you to Ebizo and caught his imperceptible nod your way.

“As do I.”

Your lips parted in astonishment as the attention went to Joseki. 

“I, of all of you, have been the most harsh on Lord Kazekage.” Joseki cast his gaze on the table. “We can only hope to earn his forgiveness by dedicating ourselves to his rule.”

The council gazed at one another with surprise and confusion. This time no one spoke for a different reason.

Ikanago’s spoken to him, You theorized with relief. Or maybe it was you, so willing to vacation with Gaara despite his warnings. He hadn’t managed to scare you off. Had that counted for anything?

Gaara motioned to you. “My fiancé has something to announce to you all.”

On cue, you stood, swallowing your nerves along the way. You squared your shoulders as you said, “My father, Lord Boutoku, will be arriving in a matter of days.”

Excited murmurs sounded among the council. 

“A shame Ikanago won't be here for that,” Kankuro said under his breath.

“We will need your help in preparing a warm greeting for him,” You continued. 

The initial chaos of the meeting mellowed into an enthused optimism as it came to a close. The council members sung a completely different tune now, praising Gaara and overjoyed at the prospect of your father’s arrival. Sajo approached you, seemingly to apologize for his almost-comment, but Gaara stepped in front of you, armed with a pointed look, and Sajo hurriedly excused himself from the hall. 

“You did so well, little brother.” Kankuro patted Gaara on the shoulder as the elders left. Only you, Baki, and his siblings were left.

“Excellent, truly, Lord Kazekage,” Baki added. 

“Truly flawless!” Temari said, looking impressed as she crossed her arms.

Gaara pinkened under the praise. The gravitas befitting his station had vanished, leaving only the man you knew. He nodded sheepishly at his siblings but eyed you.

“I don’t think,” You stepped toward him, “anyone could’ve done better.”

Gaara smiled.

“It is too bad about Ikanago’s hip, though,” You added. 

“Not surprising news.” Kankuro gathered up significant papers at the table. “These relics would rather die than retire so those younger than them can come in and actually change things.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I, on the other hand, will retire by the ripe age of thirty — at the latest.”

“We all hope you do,” Temari joked.

Days passed. Preparations for your father’s arrival were laid out, and Gaara, most of all, was happy he wouldn’t be caught by surprise by his future father-in-law. 

Despite your bleak anecdotes, Gaara was excited to meet him. You refused to dull his enthusiasm by sharing anything too intimate, especially since it seemed your father would be on his best behavior anyway. 

Maybe. Oh, gods, you hoped so.

There was still Matsuri to handle, but Gaara told you they would delay her hearing until he had ample time for it.

“It’s so weird seeing you behind that desk now,” You said to Gaara.

Gaara was back to work as Kazekage after his long sabbatical. Kankuro and Temari assisted in ceding him urgent paperwork and documentation. Kankuro told him he could hold down the fort for a little longer, but Gaara had insisted.

“It’s for the best.” Gaara smiled at you. 

“Maybe it is,” Kankuro teased. “We see what happens when our little brother has too much free time on his hands.”

“I’d like to thank you, too, Kankuro,” Gaara said, “for all your hard work.”

“Ah, Gaara …” Kankuro grinned. “What are brothers for?”

Gaara sobered. “I prefer Lord Kazekage.”

Kankuro’s ease tapered. “Oh, I — I —“

Gaara smiled. “Just kidding.”

You and Temari laughed as Kankuro wrapped an arm around Gaara and pulled him in for a side-hug. 

“You got me!” Kankuro said. “I really have grown on you!” 

Temari and Kankuro left Gaara to it. You were alone with him; the silence rang in your ears. You sighed into it. Could it be? Were you actually … relaxed? After the whirlwind, also referred to as the last few days, you were calm. The room had been decluttered of extraneous plants and puppets and now appeared too bare to you. Emptied. You studied the paperwork pile, handed Gaara a sheet of paper stamped with importance. 

Gaara accepted it. “Thank you.” 

You let your hand dangle in the air. “Can you believe it?”

He raised his head. “What?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “It’s actually quiet. What did we do to deserve it?”

Gaara echoed your joy with a small smile. “You’re right. I’m used to Temari and Kankuro yelling at each other on their way out.”

You giggled. For a moment, you stared at him working, his motions rhythmic. Slip, read, stamp. Slip, read, stamp. Your gaze trailed up his forearms until you noticed the hunch at his shoulders. 

“You still seem a bit tense.” 

“Hm.” Gaara’s attention was on a document. “There’s still much to do and not all of it pleasant.”

You came around the desk, your heels clicking against the floor, until you were behind Gaara. You chuckled with surprise; he seemed not to notice you. Perhaps he thought you were looking out the window? You settled hands on his shoulders from behind.

He paused.  You kneaded his shoulders, unsure if you were doing it right until Gaara’s groan vindicated you. 

Gaara cleared the gravel from his throat. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to be the only one relaxed.”

Gaara leaned into your touch. His shoulders fell as he sighed. His hair brushed against your lower stomach. You leaned forward, your arms crisscrossing around his chest, your cheek brushing against his. Gaara met your eye, his heartbeat thrumming against your wrist, a sound thundering in the taut quiet.

His hand slipped past your neck, fingers pressing into the onset of your spine. “Come.”

Don’t use that word, please.

Gaara plucked the hem of your top to beckon you. This was a bad idea … And yet you inclined as he did, his magnetism too great to resist, and your lips met.

“Gaa …” He kissed his name away. Gaara caressed your cheek, deepening the kiss as a consequence. It was neither the timid kiss in the lagoon nor the lustful kiss in the greenhouse. It sat at the nexus of both, familiar and new. Lingering. You craved more. You tried to voice his name again and again you were silenced.

Gaara broke away after a second, sensing your resistance though you did nothing to resist. “I’m sorry … It’s been so long since I kissed you. I’ve been wanting to do it again.”

The warmth in your cheeks alerted you to your blush. You blinked. “We shouldn’t.” Your protest sounded futile. “We can’t. Not after the council, I … We have to behave, I think … I’m sorry — this is my fault, I got too … This is reckless …”  You swayed back, swallowing in a dry mouth. “The door — It isn’t even locked.”

“And if I lock it?”

You met both Gaara’s gaze and challenge with silence. You froze as he stood and strode to the door. It locked it with a clink. You released a broken exhale as he returned, face inches from yours.

“Answer me.”

You licked your lips, tasting the remnants of him there. Your answer should be no, followed with a rapid shake of your head, but the word slipped from your lips to tell the truth:

 “Yes.”

Gaara took your hand, led you forward until you were sinking into him — 

And against his lips again. You cupped Gaara’s face as he embraced you, crushing you to his chest. Your breasts sat plush against his trench-coat, eliciting a soft gasp from your fiancé. Gaara’s lips parted to admit a groan, but you swallowed it before grazing your tongue on his lower lip and inviting yourself into his mouth. Your nail snatched on one of the buttons of his trench-coat. You sighed at the memory of his erection, firmly pressed against you in the greenhouse. You anticipated it now. You adjusted until both of your legs were on either side of him, your backside resting on the desk’s edge. You fisted the fabric of his coat. Gaara swiped at your tongue; you gasped, a throb from below sending you grinding against his abdomen.

“(Y/n) …” Gaara broke away only to kiss a path down your jaw.

You moaned as his teeth grazed the tender neckskin. You bit your lip as his hand crept up the hem of your shirt. The feel of skin on skin wiped your mind blank.

Yes yes yes — 

A knock.

You came up from water. Gaara pulled away; the loss of his counterweight sent you stumbling to your feet. Gaara composed himself, glaring at the surface of his desk before helping you away from it. After a few beats, he said, “Come in.”

The knob turned — and turned.

“Oh!”  You hurried to unlock it. A shinobi awaited you on the other side. 

“Uh, Lady (Y/n).” He nodded Gaara’s way. “Lord Kazekage.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, it’s … Lord Boutoku has arrived.”

[msookyspooky]

OMG YOU WATCHED LISA FRANKENSTIEN AND LOVED IT?! <33

I've been waiting for that especially since you've posted Gomez and Morticia (The goal of all goals) on your blog! It's an odd request but I still read and love your Set Up series so can we get a crossover with YN as Lisa Swallow's and the boys as The Creature? ( Cole Sprouse lowkey reminds me of young Skeet Ulrich which considering Riverdale it's no wonder)

Wait cause no this is such a good idea I cannot pass it up I got so much work to do but I REALLY wanna write for this! (I got so many request I'm trying to do in my inbox but uh...This is my current hyperfixation srry)

I wish I could draw better to make zombies of them fhjaafg ♡♡♡ If anyone wants to add onto this or request other characters please do (And anyone seeing this; watch Lisa Frankenstein I loved it)

🔪 Scream / Lisa Frankenstein Crossover 🧟‍♂️

Iⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉᵈ﹕ ʳᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵐᵉᵉᵏˢ, ˢᵗᵘ ᵐᵃᶜʰᵉʳ, ᵇⁱˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵐⁱˢ, ᵐⁱᶜᵏᵉʸ ᵃˡᵗᵉʳⁱ

(Everyone is buried in this despite canon and set in the present. Fem!Reader TW: Corpse/Dead Body, Talk of Rot and Decay, Zombie BF)

🪦 Randy Meeks: Died 1998

♡ You loved his character in Stab. After you did some deep diving studying who the actual Randy was outside of the movie; you found his tombstone. (who would do this? Me and @f1nalboys Might do what Lisa did and write your name over his etched name *Meeks* on a piece of paper. Bc of course YN Meeks just has a nice ring to it)

♡ Heard you venting about life and fell in love in his restless but lucid slumber 6ft underground. Someone actually likes his character for more than comic relief? Someone understood him? They didn't think he was just the geek?

♡ After a terrible lightning storm...Guess who fumbled and broke through your window drenched in mud and decay?

♡ Is a little hurt you aren't head over heels for him in his current state. He accidentally cried even if his pride hates that he quite literally cried his own eyes out. He's used to not getting who he wants and...Well, he may not smell himself with his nostrils rotted out but considering his eye popped out; still attached to the retina and had to be pushed back in while you're covering your nose gagging; he understands even if it hurts.

♡ Takes a shower (I'd use Dawn. Bar soap or Dove ain't gonna cut it.) and wears your clothes or robe. He still smells like a dead body and has worms but he's trying. He's got a LOT of old stab wounds from dying in that van at Windsor...Holes...Things seep out so you might wanna get tape or something idk.

♡ Do not stress this undead man out if you mischaracterize a film; he cannot talk with a missing tongue to argue; it decayed decades ago.

♡ His dead, dull eyes actually have some spark of life to them when he sees streaming for the first time. So many movies he's missed out on! Give him the remote and you never gotta worry about him leaving your room while you're gone.

♡ He accidentally kills someone you definitely did not want killed after they smelled something awful in your room, went up there, screamed, Randy went to knock them out in a panic and accidentally kills them

♡ He feels awful about it and you both decide to hide the body and use their hand to replace his missing one (Fell off lol just dead things) and shock him back to circulation somehow

♡ If you do what Lisa did and let him do...Other things with a 'back massager'. He's so madly in love and yearning for you it's insane. But if you got a crush you're yearning for; he is rolling his eyes with a grunt at this being Sid and Billy or Sid and Derek allllll over again.

♡ Less corpsey he gets with each shock session; more he can't help his feelings for you. YOU have to be the one to admit your feelings to him though because what would you want with an undead geek like him? At least in his mind.

♡ Would cry his eyes out (Not literally this time) if you were killed and 100% would resurrect your body and take care of you like you did him

♡ Is as loyal as they come. Will worship you accepting him at his geekiest, dead, grossest versions of himself and you're still here

🪦 Stu Macher: Died 1996

♡ You found his tombstone as a dare to 'bring him back' like bloody mary....No duh, it didn't work. But Stu was still aware of it in a dream like state sorta way. You didn't believe in that stuff rolling your eyes at people badgering you on where you lived.

♡ A car hits a power line and the line of electricity zaps his grave and he goes home just to see...Holy shit, you own his house!

♡ He thinks he's still the playboy man slut he was in life that can get anyone he wants so he's really offended you aren't wanting him to kiss you. Why!? Cause he has worms and his lips are a little dry from sinking into rot, he's a little bit dirty with body fluid stained clothes and he smells like a dead body? Picky!

♡ Is even more offended you're gagging and covering your nose demanding he bathe. Begrudgingly takes your dumb shower and your entire tub smells like dead bird and covered in dirt.

♡ When he comes out you see his face is very scarred under all that mud he had on him. Maybe the rumor he died via a tv crashing on his head and shocking him was true?

♡ If you piss him off...Well he can't kill you cause he needs you. But he WILL hack up a worm like a hairball just to gross you out out of pure pettiness.

♡ Just steals your clothes without asking. Lounging in your best clothes that can fit while he's leaking fluids. If not, he's stealing some guys clothes in your home. Catch him lounging in your Dad/Step Dad/Brothers/Friends best fit.

♡ Tries to steal your bed till you yell at him to get in the closet before someone sees. He guards your clothes and forces you to wear the sluttiest sexiest clothes you have...What? He's helping!

♡ He is soooooooo elated they made Stab! A whole movie with him portrayed in it by a good looking actor? He is over the moon watching it on repeat.

♡ Gets lonely easily...And bored! He's sighing to himself when you're gone and thinking how Billy is dead now and all the people he once knew, knew him as a murderer and were in their 40's. In fact, don't leave him alone long; its disastrous.

♡ Not able to yap HURTS HIM. Expect a lot of hand gestures and getting him a note pad to write on because he can't handle this

♡ Kills someone after you have an issue with them not even second guessing it. What? Problem solved! AND he gets a new body part to replace the one that rotted. Win win.

♡ He is very aware and depressed his manhood rotted off decades ago and that's probably the first body part he's going for. Especially a crush/boyfriend of yours. He can handle no ear or hand or even a tongue but his dick!? No.

♡ Sits in bed painting your nails while you rant about boys. He nods at everything when it comes to guys having their mind on one thing because well...Yeah. Especially in his case

♡ HE is the one smirking if he finds any massager and even if you want a back rub that thing is going lower. Just cause he doesn't have a peen rn doesn't mean his mind isn't in the gutter still

♡ He thinks your a girlfriend of his right away so casually without even asking you so; of course any guy coming near you is dead. Of course he's resurrecting you if you die because...Well he's starting to realize you're the only girl that doesn't scream when you see him so he's gonna hang up his player towel.

♡ Even fully restored he still has scars on his face and feels indebted to you that you don't care about his murderous ways or his face now. He takes care of you if you're dead and the roles reverse...Hell, he finds it hot you need him now.

Billy Loomis: Died 1996

♡ You were a bit odd yourself and found yourself studying the murders. Feeling conflicted about Billy because yeah he was an awful incel but researching his background you felt a bit bad he felt so alone and abandoned even with people around him. You clean off vandalism on his grave and talk to him for hours.

♡ A storm occurs after you have an awful day and cry to his grave 'I wish I was with you'...You meant dead. But well...

♡ That night lightning hits the grave and you wake up in bed to the god awful smell and his dead dirty face looking down at you. You go to scream and he covers your mouth with a cold clammy hand. Going to talk to you and a centipede falls out his mouth making you scream even louder.

♡ You almost knock his head off before he points to a picture on your desk you took of his grave surrounded by newspaper articles of his death.

♡ He thinks he finally has a person that's not a 'whore, bitch, or poser' in his eyes. A bit in love with you and is bitter you don't exactly want an ex serial killer from the 90's like that...

♡ He almost wants to kill you thinking of the betrayal till he sees his reflection and is completely defeated. Sunken dead eyes, matted dirty hair missing in places, longer haggered dirty nails, skin looking ready to fall off.

♡ He sits in your bathroom and you try to comfort him till you smell what smells like...Sewage and death and embalming fluid and your trying not to throw up.

♡ He takes a shower without being told to. Disgusted by his own rot and grime. His gun shot wound in the middle of his forehead a reminder of his failure almost 3 decades ago...Might have scrambled his brain a bit.

♡ He's a manipulator and user but he's not as...Tactless and spoiled as Stu. He feels grateful you offered him to stay despite the smell and the misunderstanding even if he's not happy sleeping on the floor or closet.

♡ He feels even more defeated when you tell him his Mom died in 1998 at Windsor College trying to avenge his death. He's beside himself over it and honestly just wants to crawl back in his icky coffin and die again.

♡ He wanders your home despite being told not to. Goes through all of your things. The lack of speaking doesn't bother him. Especially when it means he can hear you spill your guts more. He wants to observe everything.

♡ Like Randy he's pleased by the movies on streaming but not as obsessed as he was. Whether that bullet was like a lobotomy or just laying in the ground so long to 'think' in the afterlife; he's not the same guy he was in 96...Not completely. Is annoyed at his portrayal in Stab. His hair never looked like that! (Yes it did)

♡ He does kill someone when they bully or mistreat you. He feels possessive of you already and he just doesn't like assholes. He's the one that decides to steal a body part while you're staring in horror.

♡ He gets shocked and you see him a little less dead and a working body part now. So it becomes a thing for you both but you tell him 'Only those that deserve it' and he shrugs. He ain't following that but okay.

♡ Is pinning over you but hides it well. Enjoying just listening to you or watching you. HATES with a passion when you talk about guys but hides it with grunts and subtle glares.

♡ Is your ride or die when he hears police are investigating you for murder after he was the one killing them. I mean...What will they do? Re-kill him? He will do anything he can especially the more 'alive' he becomes to protect you.

♡ Once he's...Fully equipped he actually refuses to sleep with you. Still thinking 'virgins live, sluts die' like he use to. You have to tell him 'You know Sidney is still alive, right? That rule is dumb and not true.' he may get over it and sleep with you or it might still take time.

♡ He wants to go after Sid but also what's the point now? He's not exactly in tip top shape...Don't even tell him about Sam being rumored to possibly being his daughter by mega Stab fans. His undead brain will stop working.

♡ If you die he will resurrect you not out of convenience and want like Stu or devotion like Randy but more possessive ownership. You're his. Whether that's love or to control you (Both). Not even death will seperate you from him.

♡ Once he's fully recovered he has a migraine till that bullet eventually is pushed out by that one last shock and his body starts bleeding again.

♡ More than happy to be together away from everyone just you and him.

Mickey Alteri: Died 1998

♡ Everyone knows Mickey as the freak that was so obsessed with Stab and the original killers he imitated them. But what they don't realize is he killed even before Nancy found him. He was just wired different and it made him feel alive...How ironic now.

♡ You accidentally stumbled upon his grave after trying to find a different one. And...Why is it empty? Well, you had nothing to do with his resurrection just wrong place wrong time as a corpse is lumbering towards you from behind a tombstone with bullet wounds all over him.

♡ He wanted to snap your neck just to fell something again till his own leg fell off and he face planted on the ground.

♡ You of course didn't know he was trying to kill you. You still tried to get away before you saw him just sitting there and...Sighing? It wasn't a mindless zombie after you? Even worse; he grabbed your keys when you ran.

♡ Ask for them back and like a damn child he shakes his head with grunts. You swear to God you heard 'nuh uh' in his grunt. (Keep his leg away give me the keys or I'm yeeting your leg)

♡ Takes a shower at your house and like Randy all those holes are leaking...Icky stuff. He had more muscle before he died so his body mass shockingly is thinner but not as much as it should be? You're talking to a corpse it doesn't have to make sense. All you know is he just walked around naked and you saw disgusting things on the human body you never wanna know after death. You gotta make him wear clothes!

♡ You're in this awkward situation where...The dead guy has feelings and thoughts and is urging he wants to go home with you. Whether you say yes or no he knows your car and will find you.

♡ Sew his leg back on or give him a funny replacement like a peg leg and tell him deal with it. What are you? A surgeon?

♡ Little did you know the second you came for your keys and talked to him he claimed you as his just for being different than most victims. More eager than Stu, falling even faster than Randy, more obsessive than Billy and POSSIBLY crazier than the og Ghostface's...You're having a corpse that is already planning to make you his (Might even kill you so you have to be with him when he resurrects you like he was.)

♡ Other than killing and movies you're the first thing to make him feel something and he is not letting that go.

♡ Wears your clothes, watches your tv, listens to you talk, plans to kill anyone that fucks with you, watches you when you sleep, dresses you up.

♡ The first kill is a guy interested in you. You are his now! He doesn't hesitate to take a few body parts to have you sew on him. Finds the whole process endearing. He's nuts guys idk. You just gotta drill it in his head not to kill a family member, close friend or pet or you won't forgive him because he cannot have that. He wants your affection and attention so he'll be good when it comes to that.

♡ With each shock he gets more lively and bolder. Dancing with you and ignoring the worm that you don't know where it fell out of. Trying to cuddle you even if you gotta start smearing vicks under your nose. Won't hesitate to kiss all over you once he's not as rotten and tries to think of your pleasure before his.

♡ He never hides his obsession and will let you know with a hand on your throat not to talk about guys around him before lovingly caressing your cheek afterwards as an apology.

♡ If you die, not by him, he is furious and will kill anyone in his path before resurrecting you. He'll take care of you in the most yanadere way. You're his forever now.

[batbeato]

I have two questions born from your post regarding Masc-Beatrice.

1) Would Sayo have been dressed in clothes made for Lion then, same-style as Masc Beatrice - or would they still wear the same dress that had belonged to their mother, Kuwadorian Beatrice, when meeting Kinzo post-epitaph?

Thinking on it at first, considering the epitaph was written in homage to both versions of Beatrice (I think?), and Kinzo wanting to see her smile again, I feel like Sayo would be dressed therefore as a woman - which kind of would maybe tie into being pressured to present as a woman. A “revival” of sorts, just like in the epitaph - the fulfillment of Kinzo’s wishes and resolving of his regrets - which coincides with the magical lore viewpoint of Beatrice being able to manifest a different form for Kinzo, pertaining to his (their) whims.

On the other hand, Sayo was heavily implied to be born as Kinzo’s son who he literally thought was dead, killed in the exact same way his mother had died no less - which could again facilitate the concept of resurrection (and probably really screw Sayo over, considering they were raised as a girl and woman, going down the route of canon).

There’s probably some (or a lot) of symbolism there to think over, the difference between being brought to Kinzo presenting as either Beatrice, the woman - both lover and child through the grandchild - or Lion, the young man who was lost, and doesn’t view themselves as Lion, indelibly imprinted by the concept of Beatrice nonetheless, the motifs used that could have mirrored Beatrice (Kuwadorian’s) style of dress and how and why it differs - but I feel like I’m talking myself in circles considering it.

2) I’m now curious if you have any ideas of Fem! Battler and how her dynamic would change compared to Canon Battler, with any version of Beatrice.

For 1: On the one hand, the idea of Sayo being resurrected as Lion for Kinzo is appealing. It ties together both this Beatrice's masculinity as well as their origin as Lion, and leads to some complex things for Sayo and how 'Lion' and 'Beatrice' tie together. But on the other, Sayo being made to dress as Beatrice further reflects Sayo's coercive sex assignment and how Beatrice is made to conform to Kinzo's wishes, regardless of who/what Beatrice actually wants to be. I think I prefer the latter, at least for a masc-Beatrice that focuses on the intersex-analogous trauma of their sex assignment as well as on how Sayo's life has been shaped by what others want them to be.

As for 2: Oh dear.

I don't think masc-Beatrice would be constantly making misogynistic comments, but just consider how fem-Beatrice acts with regards to Shannon's femininity. It comes from a place of deep hurt and a trauma-based understanding of femininity and womanhood and patriarchy. It slips in here and there in casual conversation, and then during emotional high points, it comes out in full force.

I do think that any version of Battler would probably be willing to sling insults around and banter/bicker, so she wouldn't let Beato get her down ordinarily, but during those points where Beato is crushing Battler's spirits, his words might slip in and actually affect Battler.

Also I still like the idea of fem-Battler being a knight/prince, even to masc-Beatrice. I think she'd still be very headstrong and stubborn and not willing to let bullshit get her down. Their dynamic kind of does the inverse of canon-beabato's, where instead of going from a very femdom dynamic to a more equal one / Battler being the 'Territory Lord', they start out with a very maledom dynamic and move to a more equal one / fem-Battler being the 'Territory Lord'.

With fem-Battler and fem-Beatrice, I do think that Beatrice might still make misogynistic comments but less so compared to masc-Beatrice. I don't think as much is different in broad narrative strokes except that this Battler also has to have a bi awakening while she's at it with the riddle-solving.

[chipchopclipclop]

love ur baldurs gate 3 oc so much. idk anything about the game but i genuinely likes him. i wish hes a real character bc i would buy the game for him

thank you anon i know this message is weeks old but ily and also im going to use this ask as an excuse to dump information about him now (swagdor lore (swaglore)) for anyone who cares

general stuff;

hes 49 years old as of game time

necromancy wizard, learned scholar, heavy interest in the boundaries between life and death and undeath, researching different types of resurrection unrelated to god worship (just not a big fan of asking for favours yknow)

stoic even keeled personality, reacts neutrally or stone faced to most things (this does not mean hes uncaring, hes got a curious nature). he used to be very showy and loud when he was younger, he finds that now very embarrassing

used to be a leader of an adventuring band in his 20s, fell apart when his group were defeated in battle leaving him lone survivor, wasnt a necromancer back then

has a distinct lack of self regard, half of him believes he'll be more of use untethered to the chain of mortality (undead in some fashion, or just thinking his corpse more functionally useful) the other half is just still struggling with survivors guilt (lol)

wanders around looking for old crypts and tombs to help his arcane pursuits, do-good's alot accidentally while he does, though most people get scared of him when he reveals the necromancy magic so hes got a mixed reputation (has some sort of misnomer like The Specter of so-and-so that wyll probably recognizes and laughs about)

will go along with just about anything if it amuses him, and has a weird sense of humour. hard to catch off guard or fluster, he yes-and's people alot to see how far they'll go with something or out bluff them (sometimes this causes them to try and beat the shit out of him)

truthful about his feelings when asked, but rarely volunteers his thoughts on things of his own accord, this gives him a weirdly mysterious image at first to most people

treats his raised corpses with care befitting living beings outside combat, and used to even raise some for company even if they were functionally just puppets.

he likes skeletons more than zombies (smell…)

his fake in game quest line is called 'The Wandering Necromancer' and involves inquiring about his old adventuring days of times past and learning why he's so into skeletons. He eventually reveals his past and you can bring up his groups old misadventures (oh my god you were the backstreet boys???) and he is very embarrassed by it. He reveals his group was felled by a lich, and he never found their bodies so hes always been curious on a way to speak with them again somehow.

plot continues BLAH BLAH eventually you find out that lich is still around and swagdor's old friends are now in its undead service so you go to kill it <3 but on the way he considers if he should take the lich's place so he can have his old companions around again (even if they're in his undead service) and try to give them some semblance of new twisted life again. You either help him with the preparations (yay phylacterys) or go bro you need to Move On. Man. and instead choose to release their souls when the lich is killed.

swagdor is stronger as a lich but also becomes even more detached from concepts of mortality (his sense of danger is basically nill now regarding others... its okay if u die ill bring u back somehow :) <- unnerving smile) and also all his dead friends are talking to him in his ear so he's constantly got a sense of being away from everything.

unliched swagdor moves on properly and begins The Healing Process (better late than never king) and seems more present in current ongoings, finding a place he can really set his feet. He's also less obsessed with death but sees his necromancy instead as a means to help and speak with wayward souls of the dead.

useless trivia corner: his names swagdor bc i based him off an old div2 oc i made when i was playing that game with aqua, where i used one of the randomly generated names they gave me and put the word swag into it (lol) i now am using his div2 swagdor's adventures as a semi basis for his new bg3 versions background thats why his younger versions outfit is based off that one captain armour set i never took off in that game