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stitch1830 · 2 years
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Better late than never LOL.
New chapter of my Kantoph angst fic is up! Thanks for your patience if you've been reading this. Hope you enjoy :D
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stitch1830 · 2 years
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Chapter 14: Starting Anew
Toph falls into a routine that helps her cope, but then Sokka arrives at her front door for a chat.
Word Count: 2,896
......
Hey everyone! Remember Kantoph Mondangst? Me neither...
But, here's an update to that particular story LOL. Hope you all enjoy! :D
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stitch1830 · 3 years
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Bets
Happy Mondangst! Here's some angsty Kantoph :)
......
“Da.”
“That’s right, baby girl!” he cheered in his most ridiculous baby voice. “Da da! Da da!”
Lin giggled in her father’s arms, and Toph jokingly scoffed at the two from the couch. She lay on her back with her hands behind her head, enjoying the vibrations of the two through the ball of her foot that she kept firmly on the ground. “You two are giving me a headache.”
“C’mon, Toph! It’s Lin’s first word, how can you hate this?”
“First off, she’s babbling. It’s not even words yet. Second, the fact that she’s making ‘D’ sounds instead of ‘M’ is the other reason.” she explained simply. “If she says ‘Dada’ before ‘Mama,’ that’s betrayal right there.”
“Sorry, Angel. I just have that effect on women, I guess.”
“Gross,” she complained, but pointed a smile at him, and she felt his heart quicken ever so slightly and his voice let out a quiet chuckle at their antics.
And when his gaze turned back to Lin, Toph could feel through the earth how at peace he was at that moment. Complete adoration for their baby, and she silently laughed to herself at the thought of him having to deal with Lin as a teenager. Oh, she would have him wrapped around her finger for all of eternity, Toph just knew it.
His voice broke up her thoughts. “Hey, what if we had a little competition?”
Toph said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue. “What if we compete to find out who Linny walks to first?” he asked.
“What are the stakes?”
“If I win, we start trying for another baby.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she laughed.
“And if you win, Lin’s our only perfect little girl.”
“And if she doesn’t walk to either of us??”
“Then we let fate and destiny take over,” he answered rather smugly.
Toph smirked and sat up from her position, ready to playfully protest this silly competition. “You realize that she’s gonna walk to you, right?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Right,” she responded sarcastically. “Lin, the little Daddy’s girl who shares the same birthday as her Baba and whose first words are gonna be ‘Dada’ and ‘Baba.’”
“Mama could be a close third,” he defended.
“Yeah, sure. I’m going to shake on a bet I’m bound to lose.”
“Just a little fun,” he replied, and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Obviously we’ve got time, but, I don’t know. I think it could be fun!”
“You and I have two very different definitions of fun,” she teased.
“But it’s harmless!”
“Harmless?” she laughed. “I could end up fat and pregnant at the end of this!”
“Only if you want to,” he added.
“So this isn’t even a bet at all,” she commented. “It’s just fake stakes on the table.”
She felt him shrug. “Bit of pride on the line, I suppose. What do you say?”
Toph wanted to continue berating him and teasing him, but his heart sang whenever Lin made a noise or reached out for something, and he adored playing little games like this with her. Perhaps deep down in a place that she barely allowed to admit to herself, she could imagine them having another baby. Even if Lin was almost 6 months old, she thought that maybe, just maybe, a family of four would be nice. And when Lin giggled at her father once again, Toph’s resolve to say no to those two disappeared.
Spirits, they had her whole heart, and she couldn’t help but shake her head as she smiled and extended her hand out to him.
“It’s only a bet if we shake on it.”
His silly cheer caused Lin to giggle more, and after he shook Toph’s hand to signify the start of the bet, he playfully kissed each knuckle before Toph mildly complained as she tried to free herself from his grasp.
~~~
They sat on her living room floor, engaged in small talk while they paid attention to Lin’s every move. The elephant koi in the room became a semi-permanent resident in the Beifong house, but everyone learned to live with it, Toph especially.
Sokka carefully treaded every conversation as he supported Lin to standing on her own two feet. Every now and again, his gaze would turn up to Toph to catch her expression. Today it was unreadable, but she sat on the floor with her legs out and leaned back on her arms, a sign of openness.
That was a good sign, right?
The warrior never knew what was good and what wasn’t anymore, because everything reminded them of him. Of Kanto.
And it was unfair, because Toph deserved to go about her life without having to be constantly reminded of the man she loved and lost to a crazy person. But there was no escape; Kanto was at her place of work, at their home, and he was there whenever Lin moved or breathed or learned something new.
None of that seemed to matter to the universe, however, and Toph and Lin and everyone else that loved Kanto lived with the reminder like chronic pain: constant, relentless.
Still, Toph’s body language was more positive than usual, so Sokka took the opportunity to strike up another small conversation.
“So,” he began by clearing his throat. “What do you and Lin have planned for the rest of the day?”
His friend shrugged in response and a nonchalant wave. “Eh, same old shit, Sokka. Maybe I’ll take her to the park. It is a nice day out.”
“How come you only call me Sokka, now?”
Toph shot him a confused look. “Because it’s your name??”
The man rolled his eyes to himself then said, “Well, yeah. I just mean you almost always called me ‘Meathead’ or ‘Snoozles’ or ‘Captain Boomerang.’”
A quiet scoff fell from Toph’s breath, and she dug her knuckles into her earthen floor. “Yeah, well nicknames are for fun times, and I haven’t been in a jovial mood as of late—”
“Toph I just mean—”
“So forgive me if I don’t feel the need to call you by some dumb nickname that reminds me of all the other stupid ones I called him.”
Sokka shut his mouth, but still held onto a bouncing Lin and stared at Toph. Her expression contorted into one of regret, and she let out a tired sigh.
“I’m sorry, Sokka. That was rude.”
“No, Toph, it’s okay,” he reassured her. “I just—”  Sokka paused before he continued. What he wanted was to help his friend and hoped she would return to her old self soon.
But the idea seemed silly after a second thought. How could she go back to her old self? Going back wasn’t an option, only forward, to a different Toph Beifong who loved and lost and learned to adapt to this difficult change.
So instead of saying I just want to help you get back to your old self, he amended his statement. “I just want to help you.”
“I know,” she sighed again as she moved to lie down on the ground. “I know you’re all trying to help.”
And Toph did know that. The whole group seemed bent over backwards in helping her through this mess of her life, and she not only wanted, but needed their help. However, figuring out things that did help seemed to be a challenge, for it all required talking or thinking about him.
She really couldn’t do that at this point, not even nine months after his death.
Saying his name sent her down a spiral of thoughts of longing and regret, the feeling so strong that it tempted her to visit their bedroom again. But she hadn’t stepped into that room since she was dragged out by Sokka, because she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to leave it a second time.
Instead of visiting their shared bedroom or speaking her dead almost-fiancé’s name or figuring out what could possibly help her through this, she lay on the ground, focusing on the earth’s humming while blocking out all other erratic and uneven vibrations. It was soothing, being completely one with the earth and ignoring everything else. Her mind wasn’t racing, her heart wasn’t hurting, and she felt a feeling that strangely resembled tranqui—
“Toph?”
Her focus was broken, and as annoyed as she was, Toph responded to her friend and asked, “What is it?”
“Are you okay?”
“Stupid question.”
“I just mean—”
“Mama!”
Lin’s interruption pulled Toph further from the earth, and so she waved her hand in the air and exclaimed, “Mama’s right here, Lin. Just wallowing in self-pity as a widow does, although I’m not even sure I can call myself that.”
“Toph,” Sokka began, but Toph continued her useless ramble. “Probably not, since he didn’t even ask me to marry him. Kind of a requirement to be in the mopey widow club, don’t you think? Pathetic, really, I don’t even have a dead fiancé, just a dead baby daddy.”
“Toph—”
“You know what, guess it doesn’t matter I could just—”
“Toph!”
Sokka’s exclamation startled her, but she didn’t move from her spot. She waited for him to continue with whatever was so important to interrupt her self-deprecating monologue, but he didn’t speak again.
Instead, she felt little, uneven, and heavy footsteps toddle toward her. Toph sat upright in an instant, completely shocked at the sensation of Lin walking.
“Go Lin!” Sokka cheered.
Toph cheered as well and held her hands out excitedly to catch her daughter. “C’mere, Lin! You got it!”
And with a few babbles and shouts for Mama, Lin made her way into Toph’s arms.
The earthbender pulled Lin in for a tight hug and smothered her cheek with kisses. “You did it, baby girl! You took your first steps!”
“She’s a natural, Toph! Gonna be running tomorrow,” Sokka teased.
Toph grinned at the thought, and moved to balance Lin’s tiny feet on her knee. She felt Lin squirm in her arms and crane her neck, as if she was looking for someone.
“Dada.”
And with a single exclamaion of Lin’s favorite word, Toph’s heart shattered just as quickly as it soared a moment ago.
…….
Sokka’s grin faded slowly with Toph’s as he watched her realize what Lin wanted. In a second, one of the greatest feelings and feats of Toph’s baby girl turned into a situation of pure grief. And All he wanted was for his best friend to have a single fucking moment not be ruined by the memory of losing Kanto.
But that was impossible. Every accomplishment was tainted with this memory, and there was nothing to do but accept that harsh reality.
He watched Toph suddenly become overwhelmed by the grief. She bit her quivering lip as she combed through Lin’s hair over and over, fixating on a few curly strands at the top of her head.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, all the while Lin kept asking for her dad. Sokka was about to intervene, but then Toph let out a quiet breath and answered Lin.
“Yeah, Lin. Dada would be so proud of you right now.” She formed a small, sorrowful smile at Lin while tears fell down her cheeks. “I’d rub it in his face, too.” Toph choked out a chuckle, then continued, “But Baba isn’t here anymore, baby girl. It’s just you and me.
“Don’t worry, kiddo. All your aunts and uncles will be around to bother us, especially this Meathead over there, okay?”
When she pointed a finger at Sokka, Lin turned to see, and smiled at him. And Sokka found himself grinning back at Lin for only a second. For when he turned his gaze to Toph, he saw her tear-stricken face and any signs of happiness left Sokka’s face.
He saw Toph hastily wipe at her eyes, then stood up with Lin in her arms. “Thanks for uh, coming by, Sokka. But Lin and I are gonna spend some time together alone.”
She walked out into the backyard before he could even protest.
Sokka didn’t move from his spot, however. He just sat there, thinking and wondering and hoping there was something he could do to help his friend. But she was a silent sufferer, carrying the burden of grief everywhere she went and barely let on what hurt the most about it all. As a bystander, it hurt Sokka to see her shoulder it all. What was he to do, though?
He let out a tired sigh. Sometimes there was nothing to do but be there, even if it made him feel useless.
……
“You’re  a terrible listener.”
Sokka ignored her jab and sat down next to her, Lin bouncing gleefully in her spot in front of her mother. He gave her elbow a light nudge and replied, “I know, but I know you don’t actually want to be alone.”
“I just said—”
“Listen, Toph. We don’t have to talk about it, about any of it. But you’re like me, okay? I don’t like talking about what’s bothering me, but that doesn’t mean solitude is the answer.”
Toph bit her lip as she considered the offer, but made no outright objections to his presence. So they sat there, silent and contemplative about everything and nothing in particular.
It wasn’t until minutes of silence (and little babbles and single words from Lin) that Toph finally spoke. She chose her words carefully, as if saying the wrong thing would send her down a rabbit hole of despair. But Sokka watched her and steadied her with a reassuring hand to her shoulder.
Toph gave a sad smile as she spoke and played with Lin’s wavy hair. “We, uh, we made a stupid bet.
“He liked these silly games and it made him so fucking happy, I didn’t think twice about them. And it gave us a reason to be competitive, and you know how we would get with this shit. Still, they were harmless.”
She hastily wiped her eyes then continued, “But then he wanted to have a bet on who Lin would walk to first, and he said that if Lin walked to him, we’d try for another baby. If she walked to me, no more kids.”
Toph let out a sorrowful chuckle as she slightly hung her head low and let the tears fall in her lap. Sokka’s eyes grew misty at the thought. A silly bet turned into a reminder for Toph, and it felt cruel.
But then Toph took in a deep breath and brought her head back up, pointing her gaze toward the warrior. “You know what’s even crazier? I was gonna let him win. Under the illusion I was upset, of course.”
Sokka softly chuckled at that.
Lin cried out and turned to face Toph, who gently rubbed her daughter’s chubby cheeks. Sokka still sat there, hand on Toph’s shoulder, and watched through his blurred vision his best friend continue to open up to him.
She sighed again. “I’d let him win all the silly games if it meant—”
Her sentence was left unfinished, but nothing else needed to be said. Toph pulled in Lin to an embrace, breathing deeply into her hair as the gravity began to weigh heavy on the pair.
Toph mindlessly played with Lin’s soft curls. “But I guess all bets are off, or I win them all now.
“I don’t feel like the winner, though, Sokka.”
Sokka’s grip tightened on Toph’s shoulder as his sign of support, because he truly had no words. All he could do was sit and stare and hope that there would be something on the horizon to look forward to.
And yet, in that very same moment, he couldn’t help but silently admire Toph’s strength. Her ability to carry on and raise Lin while facing practically an insurmountable amount of grief was something that couldn’t be overlooked. He’d seen his friend show great feats of strength and resilience in the past, but in the back of his mind, he thought that perhaps this was the greatest one of all.
Still, he’d be damned if he was going to let her face this mountain on her own. So they sat there silently once again as Sokka’s hand remained on her shoulder, reminding her that he was there no matter what. He would be there to help her and to hold onto her through it all.
She deserved that. She deserved that and much more, but this was their reality. It would have to do.
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stitch1830 · 2 years
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Focus
Kantoph Mondangst, for y'all?
Well, this is a continuation of The Long, Winding Road To You, and the chapter can also be found/read on AO3!
This seems like a week for Kantoph, hehe.
Thanks for reading! :D
......
Years passed since Toph and Jiahao teamed up on the case.
And their investigation led to no new suspects, no leads, and shoddy eyewitness accounts.The case was futile from the start, but after two years of search and nothing to show for it, their prospects of breaking through grew even more hopeless.
But Toph wasn’t ready to give up.
Even the coldest of cases had been solved before. All it took was extra time and going the extra kilometer with this. Toph held up her end of the bargain, dedicating every waking hour that wasn’t spent with her daughter on the case, but it still didn’t seem to be enough.
Maybe it was the rookie that was holding her back…
The kid meant well, but he wasn’t putting in the same effort toward this mission as he did originally, and she slowly grew to resent him. She resented the whole city, honestly.
No one was helping her find Kanto’s killer. No one was helping, and no one seemed to care about it.
And the fact that people didn’t care about Kanto infuriated her. Because he deserved love and respect from the city after all he did for them.
Her mind recalled one of those instances, an ordinary where he was passionate and cared deeply for the city he protected.
Passionate for the city, and passionate for her…
……
“We have to keep trying, Chief. We have to keep looking.”
“Hotshot, we’ve been at this for hours, I’m not sure we’re going to crack this one.”
She felt Kanto shake his head as he peered over the case files. “That’s not good enough. People are counting on us to protect them.”
Toph furrowed her eyebrows at him. Of course they had to try to crack the case for the good of the city, but some cases just went cold. Simple as that.
“What are you looking for, though?” she asked. “I just—I don’t know if this one is gonna be solved with the info we have.”
“What’s your plan then?” he demanded as he stood up. “Wait for the next victim to show up at our doorstep? Hope the perps make a mistake at that point?”
“Of course I’m not hoping for that—”
“But you just said this is unsolvable with what we have, so that means we need more evidence. And more evidence means more victims.”
“Kanto.” Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. He let out a tired sigh and hugged her back. Kanto spoke into the top of Toph’s head, but his every word echoed in her mind.
“If we wait for the next victim,” he began, “we’re letting them down today. And that fact is almost harder to live with. If there’s more victims after, that means that I couldn’t save them.
“That kills me more than anything, because if one day it’s someone we know—”
“You can’t think that way,” Toph interrupted, tightening her grip. “We’re doing what we can. There will be a day we catch this bastard, and that means we’re saving people.
“When we catch them, we can say that the fucker can’t break apart any more families, they can’t take any more lives. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
His embrace grew tighter, and he buried his face in her neck. Because sometimes he just lost focus on the why.
There would always be more cases, but saving the next family made their purpose, their mission, clear.
And when the sting of the case grew to a dull throb, Kanto’s focus became clear once more. And when he realized that himself, he whispered “I love you” into her neck, filling her body with passion and heat like always. She knew he meant it, and she knew she loved him, too.
She turned her head up and kissed him with that same passion, that same heat. And he returned the kiss with the same sentiment, framing her face with his strong but warm hands.
……
The memory of it still hurt to this day. Because a man that cared so much wasn’t cared about at all. His legacy was buried in the dirt with him, and she hated that.
She hated them.
Everyone. All the people that weren’t hurting, that were telling her to move on, that didn’t feel the loss.
That burning feeling of resentment only increased when she heard a knock on her door. Jiahao entered the room quietly, punctual as always for their weekly briefing about the case. He sat on the chair directly across from her desk, greeting her like he always did, and began the report as always by looking at the measly case file for Kanto’s murder.
“So, I spoke to the couple that were mentioned in the file from a few years ago, but they didn’t seem to recall any more information than they gave us last time.”
“Didn’t recall or didn’t want to?” she muttered.
“I—sorry?” he asked.
“Seems like they just didn’t want to talk. They’re hiding something,” Toph speculated, because it was the only logical option. Why else would this case be so difficult?
“Well, they were a nice couple, and I watched them closely. I don’t think they’re suspicious.”
“But you don’t know for certain, do you?”
“Well, no—”
“Dammit, Rook, this is why I should’ve come with you.” Toph sighed, trying to calm herself down. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he couldn’t detect lies. It wasn’t his fault that she had meetings in the morning and couldn’t question the couple herself. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t Kanto and didn’t know how to calm her down…
She shook her head and sighed again. “That’s okay, though. We can revisit that lead later,” she said. “What else do we have?”
“Not much, Chief,” Jiahao admitted. “The file was weak when we started, and the interviews we’ve done haven’t really added clarity, not to mention the time that has gone by since then. If anything, they muddied the waters.”
“So you’re saying that all the info we gathered is useless?” she demanded. “Do you really think that none of it will help??”
“Well, if anything is useful, I haven’t deciphered it yet.”
“And how much time have you put into actually analyzing the interviews?”
“Um, not much, Chief…”
Spirits damn it all. Even the people she trusted to do a decent job couldn’t even do this right. Jiahao was holding her back, but she couldn’t do this alone, but Jiahao wasn’t reliable like he was—
Toph bit her lip, hard. Her hands shook with a quiet rage, but in an attempt to continue their meeting on a positive note, she said, “Okay, fine. Enough with the interviews, but let’s go back to the last day he was seen alive. We went back to the crime scene last week. Was there anything new?”
“I—um…” Jiahao stuttered. “Based on the file—” “Enough with the file, Jiahao!” Toph snapped, slamming her fists to the table and standing up. “The file is useless, we might as well tear it up.”
“Chief, we revisited the scene years later, there is no new evidence. Any evidence from that day has been erased.”
“Then not evidence then! We need something to bring this case back to life. We need a crumb, one answer to one question.
“What I want—what I need is answers!”
All she could hear was her own heavy breath, but then after a minute of silence, Jiahao finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Chief. But picking up this case after it’s been years, we don’t have answers.”
She shook her head vigorously, fighting the angry tears that hid behind her closed eyes. “No. No. That’s not good enough.”
“It’s not good enough for any of us,” Jiahao whispered, and Toph could’ve sworn that she heard him sniffle. “But all we have are eyewitnesses and descriptions of a spotless crime scene. We don’t have anything.”
They don’t have anything.
Her boyfriend was dead, had been dead for almost four years, and Toph has no explanation for who killed him and why.
And it was highly probable that she was never going to find out.
The weight of it all made Toph’s knees buckle, and she collapsed back into her chair, burying her head in her hands. How could she let this happen? How could she be so…overcome in her grief that she just let the bastard get away with this? Spirits, she really fucked this one up, didn’t she? Couldn’t even avenge her dead boyfriend now without making baseless assumptions.
She must’ve been silent in thought for a while, because Jiahao asked her wearily if she was okay, and when she shooed him out of her office, Jiahao left without another word.
Her thoughts became muddled, and her body numb to the facts. Numb to the fact that Kanto was dead, that Lin would grow up without a father and without a solid reason for why he died so soon, that her friends were not reliable, and that her main drive and focus for the past few years went out the window.
Nothing could be said or done that would bring Toph back to the surface. She was drowning in despair now, currents pulling her further and further from safety, and there wasn’t someone at the shore to pull her back in.
Because the one person she knew would pull her back, that would keep her safe, that would never stop fighting for her, was buried in the earth, the earth she so loved.
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stitch1830 · 2 years
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Release
Hi everyone! Surpring y'all with some Kantoph Mondangst, and while it is angsty (fitting for Angstapril, lmao) I hope you all enjoy!
The full chapter and story can be found here on AO3.
......
She came home tired and broken, but Toph put on a brave face for her daughter. Somehow, Lin adored her, even though she was half the woman she used to be, half of a person without Kanto. But she only knew a world filled with Toph and the nanny, Yang. Despite her broken family, Lin was a bright, energetic firecracker ready to take on the world even at her age. 
Pride didn’t even come close to describing what Toph felt. Love perhaps got close, but the earthbender didn’t dwell on the matter too much. Because if she did, she’d start to think of all the ways her daughter reminded her of him, and she didn’t need to go further down the rabbithole of despair tonight.
When she opened the door to her home, Toph was immediately greeted by Lin, scooping her up into her arms and forcing a smile on her face. “Hi there, Little Badgermole. Did you miss me?”
“Yeah, Mama! Yang and I waited and waited and—and we have snacks.”
“Ah, is that what you’ve got in your hands?” Toph asked playfully. “What kind of snack, Linny?”
The little girl shoved a small package in Toph’s face and exclaimed, “I got a yummy snack!”
Yang chuckled as she stood by the kitchen as she greeted Toph. “She wanted to try fire flakes today, and it seems she has an appetite for spicy food! Can’t imagine where she picked that up.”
The spices filled her nose, and Toph had to lean back on the door because she could barely stand. With the small, spicy snack, a wave of memories came rushing back to Toph, and it absolutely shattered her heart.
……
“I don’t understand how you can eat that all day,” Toph complained. The smell is burning my nose.
“I’m telling you, fire flakes are the best snack known to man,” Kanto replied, and even while he chomped on his snack, Toph knew he was smiling.
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Hey, if you’re not gonna try it, you don’t know what you’re missing out on, ‘kay?”
Toph let out an exasperated sigh as she shook her head at her Deputy. “Whatever, Hotshot.”
~~~
“Hand me some of those, will you?” 
Kanto playfully gasped. “What’s this? Toph Beifong wants my fire flakes?”
“Oh, can it, Hotshot. The baby wants fire flakes.”
He handed her the bag, and rubbed Toph’s growing belly while he commented, “I knew this baby’s favorite was me.”
At that, Toph gave Kanto a proper punch to the arm. “In your dreams!”
Kanto didn’t say anything else, he simply laughed and pulled her in closer to his chest.
……
It was too much.
The memories were too much.
Lin was so much like Kanto, Toph couldn’t handle coming home to be bombarded by memories of Kanto right after determining his murder case a hopeless one.
“Ms. Beifong?”
Yang shook Toph out of her head, but she had to escape. She had to, just for the night.
“Y—Yang,” Toph mumbled. “I just remembered I forgot about an important case at work. I—I have to go back in, can you watch Lin for the evening?”
“I—”
“Here’s double your rate for just the evening, you’ll get your normal wage, too,” Toph promised as she shoved what money she had on her in Yang’s hands. She was desperate to escape this ache in her heart, desperate for a reprieve. “Please?”
“I suppose, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Toph placed Lin back down on the ground, and put her little face in her hands. In her best attempts to keep her composure and her voice even, she rubbed Lin’s cheeks with her thumb and said, “Lin, Mama’s gotta go again. I’m so sorry. I’ll be back, okay?”
“But Mama—”
The sound of her daughter protesting broke her heart. Here she was, failing again. But with the last ounce of strength she had, she stood up abruptly and spoke evenly to Lin. “I—I’m sorry. I’ll be back.”
Toph didn’t wait for a response before she turned and ran.
……
She took to the bottle that night she gave up hope, because if her body was numb, perhaps a numb mind would ease the pain. It had been ages since she spoke to her so-called friends, and even longer since she gave Lin the undivided attention she deserved from her. For a while, she was motivated by the promise of finding his killer, of avenging Kanto and moving on to take care of Lin the way he would’ve wanted Toph to raise her. 
But when all that was left of Toph’s drive was a cold case and time wasted, she had to drown out her regret with something. 
The alcohol burned her throat after she took a long swig, her thoughts already fuzzy from the few glasses she had before. 
But she still hurt.
She still felt the pain, the regret, the sorrow. 
And she wanted to escape it, to feel something other than this. 
What else could she do? How could she truly move on from her loss? Kanto was the better one, he always was, and Toph had to live with the fact that she was alive and he wasn’t. Because he would’ve handled this better than she was. He would’ve found the killer, taken care of Lin, and moved on like she would’ve wanted.
Instead, Kanto was dead and Toph was alive to make a fucking mess of her life. 
She sighed as she finished her drink, then raised her hand for another round.
There was more to her despair other than grief, however. Rage and frustration boiled within her, because she craved revenge. She wanted the killer to pay for what they did, for taking Lin’s father away from her, from taking Toph’s love of her life away from her. 
But she also felt regret, because there was a time where she actually made progress. She took strides in the right direction, toward a form of happiness that tasted sweet and promised hope. Toph even grew close with Lin, her heart aching less and less every time she learned something new about Lin or she resembled Kanto in one way or another. 
All of that went to shit the minute she cleaned out her house of Kanto’s belongings. It shook her to her core and broke her, more than she expected. 
Part of her muddled mind wondered why that was the case, but part of her didn’t care. She was past the point of healing it seemed, and the only thing she could do was simply survive. Toph got up in the morning, she ate, she made sure Lin was fed and that she was taken care of, and she searched for Kanto’s killer. She breathed in and out, she took steps forward, she made it to tomorrow. 
But she hated that he made her this way. That Kanto gave her something so amazing that she could barely function without him. His absence made her lose all drive and motivation, all because she fell head over heels in love with him. 
She scoffed to herself. Funny how life worked like that, how it gave her something so great, only to take it away.
……
She smiled when she woke up, because the first thing she felt was him. His body holding her close, his strong, soothing heartbeat playing a rhythm her world suddenly revolved around. 
He stirred in his sleep, but when Toph gripped his hand that was wrapped around her waist, she could feel him grin.
Kanto pressed small kisses into her shoulder as he woke up, and it was a feeling she had grown used to. “Good morning,” he finally whispered, turning her head ever so slightly so when he leaned over, he could kiss her.
Spirits, how did he do that to her? The man just said good morning and her mind grew fuzzy.
She turned to face him, and they slowly rolled in the bed so that his back was on the bed and Toph lay on top of him. They kissed each other lazily while they started to wake up. 
It became routine for them to wake up like this, with him holding her and later, their limbs tangled until morning became afternoon, and Toph absolutely loved it. She couldn’t quite believe how something as simple as waking up could have her thoughts consumed just of him. 
And today, she just had to ask him. Toph pulled her lips away from his, and placed her hands flat on his bare chest. “How do you do that?” 
“What’s that?”
“How do you just… say ‘good morning’ and you’ve got my head spinning?” 
Kanto chuckled, but Toph thumped his chest with her fist and continued, “I’m the Greatest Earthbender in the World, and you’ve got my head and heart in a frenzy, and I kind of hate you for that.”
“It’s funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“It’s funny,” he continued, “because I was gonna say the very same thing to you this morning.”
Toph felt her cheeks become warm as he tucked strands of her hair behind her ear. And his hushed voice sent shivers down her spine. “You’ve got my head and heart in a frenzy, Chief. And I can’t get enough of you.”
She smirked at that. “Can’t get enough, you say?” 
He was catching on, because his arms wrapped around her, and he slowly flipped them so that he hovered over her. Kanto placed light kisses on her neck with every other word, and once again her mind grew fuzzy. “Mhm. I can’t get enough, and I’ll never get over you.”
Toph said nothing, just connected his lips to hers, reveling in the heat and sensation she felt all over.
Because she, too, would never have enough.
…… 
Just as she was about to call it quits and drag her feet toward home, Toph heard a man laugh. A smooth and deep laugh that almost sent shivers down her spine. 
It was at that moment she realized she found an alternative escape from the pain.  
Without a single word, she hopped off the barstool she had occupied for the past few hours and sauntered over to the man with the laugh. She showed no signs of inebriation as she pointed her stare in his direction, tugged on his shirt to pull his head down toward his, and whispered in his ear.
“If you’re not taken, meet me in the back.”
She walked away and waited in the back room that (usually) went unused by bar patrons, and counted to ten before she would exit the small closet and go home. At count eight, he entered the room and whispered a greeting, but that was all he could do before Toph his face down to kiss him. While they kissed, she fumbled with his trousers until they were undone while his hands removed her tunic.
And what happened next was the start of Toph Beifong’s newfound release.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Promises
Remember when I used to post Mondangst like, every week?
Well, here's some Mondangst :) This is a continuation for my one Kantoph story, but this part is focusing on Zutara. Thanks for reading!
......
Traveling back home was a quiet and long trek, something Katara both enjoyed and resented about the distance between the Fire Nation and Republic City. On one hand, the time gave her an opportunity to reflect on her projects or feelings or anything at all. On the other hand, she sat there twiddling her thumbs, reflecting on things that perhaps she didn’t want to think about on her ride home.
Lately, there were always things on her mind.
Katara just… she wished she could help Toph. To physically pull her out of her grief, to make Toph find joy once again. But there wasn’t anything she could do, not really. Toph’s partner was gone, and Katara had no way of relating to her situation. Truthfully, she never wanted to relate to it. To lose Zuko would be—
No. She wasn’t going to go there. Katara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of these thoughts for the remainder of the trip. Slow, even breaths escaped her mouth as she attempted to empty her mind. Empty them of the thoughts of Toph suffering, Lin fatherless, of Kanto dead—
She paused. Breathe in, breathe out.
Stop thinking about Toph refusing to open up about her grief, about Lin crying out for her father at night, about how pale Kanto was when she had to identify him at the morgue—
Okay, this wasn’t working.
Katara sighed as she let her mind race through a million different thoughts and the remainder of the trip passed slowly.
……
Returning home and the act of settling back into a routine was always a blur, a second occurred between stepping off the vehicle to unloading her luggage to listening to the children’s adventures while Katara was away. A whirlwind of tasks and conversations, but once she was immersed in her familiar life, it felt simple and easy.
The end of the day came quickly, and before she knew it, Katara was getting ready for bed with her husband, a part of their routine she enjoyed immensely. Well, most of the time. Tonight, they loosened the covers of their bed, making small talk as they did so.
“How was the trip?” he asked.
“Oh, fine,” she sighed. “I’m exhausted though. I always think going to the city will be a nice break from our projects but then…” Katara paused, biting her lip. She didn’t really want to talk about it, but it seemed to be top of mind for everyone, Katara included. “But then it never is.”
“I can imagine,” Zuko whispered. He climbed into his side of the bed and held out his hand for Katara to join him. She took it gladly, and settled comfortably on her pillows next to her husband.
And despite stating her exhaustion earlier, Katara didn’t feel tired. Her mind began to race as she thought of her weekend with Toph. What went well, what went wrong, and what they just couldn’t get to.
Katara huffed, because her mind felt restless now. She repositioned herself and turned toward Zuko to see him. He held his head in his hand and looked back at Katara, as if he knew she wanted to talk.
So she did. She tossed her head back on her pillow and looked up at the ceiling as she rambled.
“She just won’t talk about him. It’s been years, and we were so close to a breakthrough.” It bothered Katara that she couldn’t help Toph, but it wasn’t just because she couldn’t relate to her grief. She couldn’t help because Toph wouldn’t talk about it. About any of it. How was Katara supposed to provide guidance and support if Toph didn’t tell her how she was feeling?
“I just… I can’t help Toph if she won’t talk to me about him. And she’ll be sad forever.”
Zuko remained silent for a moment, then said, “But we haven’t even talked about it.”
Katara turned to Zuko, and looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve never really talked about Kanto,” he replied.
“Yes we have,” she argued. “We talked after the funeral and everything.”
“Yeah, once, and then we went straight into helping Toph. Which is good, because it’s been a long road to get here, and an even longer road ahead for all of us.
“But you and I… we don’t talk about him.” His voice fell low and quiet with the last sentence, and it sent chills down Katara’s spine.
Zuko was still hurting from the loss of their friend, and if she was honest with herself, so was Katara.
She sat up, let out a shaky breath, and grabbed his hand. “We can talk about it now, if that’s okay. Do you still miss him?”
“Yes,” he replied immediately. “He—he was so good with the girls.”
“Yeah, he was.” Katara was already wiping away tears. “Whenever they visited, we’d sneak away to go to the kitchens and taste test the dinner plates before they were served. He liked trying to guess what was in everything.”
“I remember hating his guts at first, and then we saw him and Toph being so infatuated with each other,” Zuko quietly chuckled, then his smile faded. “We always gave them crap for it.”
Silence filled the air, both Katara and Zuko feeling remorseful for teasing their friends. Had they known what would’ve happened just a few years later… Perhaps they would’ve admired their friends and their unwavering love for one another.
“He asked me so many baby-related questions after they told us they were pregnant,” Zuko commented after a while. “We spent two hours going over some of the basics, he even asked to change Izumi’s diaper.”
Katara laughed through her tears. “Really? That’s such a Kanto thing.”
Zuko began to laugh with Katara. “Yes! And this was when she was having bowel issues, and I asked him like five times if he really wanted to change her diaper.”
“Oh spirits, did she—”
“Remember when we came back to the drawing room and he had on a different shirt?”
The two burst into fits of giggles, laughing at the expense of their dear friend who found himself on the wrong end of the changing table years ago. They held their bellies and wiped away the remaining tears and attempted to catch their breath on multiple occasions. Even then, it took them a while for them to come down from their laughing fit.
Katara heard Zuko breathe out a final chuckle, then commented, “He took it like a champ, though. I’m surprised ‘Zumi didn’t scar him for life with that.”
“Me too. And I think he almost always changed Lin’s diapers until…” Katara couldn’t finish her thought.
“Kanto just…” he sighed, and she could see his demeanor deflate. “He was a really good dad. A good man.”
A small nod let him know that Katara was still listening, but Katara and Zuko grew quiet once again, lost in thought.
They weren’t so different from Toph and Kanto, she thought to herself. For a time, they were the ones in stable relationships, the ones going on double dates, the ones having kids, and both Toph and Katara found men that treated them as equals and loved them unconditionally. Their partners challenged them, comforted them, and supported them, perfectly imperfect, growing and developing together as time went on.
The thought would’ve been comforting if this was still the case.
“Sometimes…” Katara looked up at Zuko when he spoke, his eyes filled with grief. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if it were me instead—”
“Zuko—”
“You’d be strong, I know. Strong like Toph, but I… I want you to find love and happiness if I go before you.”
“Zuko please—”
“It could’ve been us instead of Toph, and I don’t want us to be thrown into a circumstance we weren’t ever prepared for.
“We’ve talked about money and the logistics of our deaths, but if I die, I want you to find love and joy again, without me.”
She blinked, unsure if she heard her husband correctly. “What?”
“Please, Katara.” His voice faltered as he spoke, but then Zuko took a deep breath to compose himself, then grabbed her hand once again. “Promise me, that if I die tomorrow, you’d be open to accepting love and happiness and joy whenever it’s in front of you, okay?”
Katara hated that they even had to talk about this. That their lives and the lives of their friends forced them to think the unthinkable, to think about moving on from a love that felt like it only came around once in a lifetime.
And yet, there they were, sitting in the bed they shared, talking about joys of the past, thinking of their gloomy present, and preparing for the ‘worst-case scenario’ future.
So she kissed Zuko lovingly, tenderly. Because if the past two years taught her anything, it was that time was fleeting, and they needed to take advantage of every moment they had together. Only time knew when it would be their last kiss.
They parted, and she held his head in her hands, memorizing the feeling of his skin. “I promise to try, but if the roles were reversed, you must do the same.”
“Katara—”
“Promise you’ll do the same,” she begged. She needed to hear it too.
He was blurry through her teary eyes, but she never looked away. She couldn’t look away.
Zuko placed his hands over hers, and rubbed his thumbs over the back of them. He never took his stunningly golden eyes off her as he nodded slowly, solemnly. “I promise.”
They breathed out sighs of relief after their conversation, because any lingering fear or worry was communicated. Promises were made to one another, and that lifted a weight off their shoulders.
But how they wished Toph and Kanto had the chance to talk about this. How different things may have been had they discussed the unthinkable. Instead, Kanto was gone, and Toph was left with questions unanswered and a future without the love of her life. And it was times like this that left Katara speechless, because she truly did not know how Toph was managing the emotional toll of it all.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Radio Silence
Hi everyone! Remember Mondangst?
Well I'm not really bringing it back, but I kind of am LOL. Here's the update for my Kantoph angst fic, and I hope you all enjoy :)
This story is also up on AO3, if you wish to read it there!
......
There was something so unsettling to Sokka about not talking with his best friend for a whole month. It seemed outrageous and impossible, and yet, here they were. 34 days and not so much as a quick ‘hello’ or a ‘gotta go to my next meeting.’ It was just…
Radio silence.
What was he to do, though? His best friend was still grieving the loss of her partner, and perhaps the most recent step toward recovery only left salt in the wound.
But the salt, Sokka thought, was necessary. Toph kept her emotions bottled up for too long, and if he had to help Toph through the pain of moving on, he was going to do it. He wasn’t expecting Toph to be completely better, but he wanted her to be happy.
Kanto would’ve wanted that. Sokka was certain.
At least, that was what he hoped. And the only way he would know for sure was if he spoke to Toph.
So, on an ordinary weekday for Sokka, he sought out Toph to try and talk with her. There had to be something he could say to get her to open up again. This silence would do her no good in the long run, and if at the end of the day Toph was okay, that was all that Sokka cared about.
He lingered in the halls of the Republic City Police Department for a couple of hours, trying to casually spot Toph. While he waited, Sokka strategized what could be done to talk some sense into her. Perhaps a meeting with the whole group about how they could help Toph might be helpful? Or maybe Sokka could give her some tough love. Or maybe he’d tell her the steps to overcoming grief.
Sokka shook his head. None of those would work, and part of him knew what it would take for Toph to get over Kanto, but he wasn’t sure he liked that option.
Just as he was about to hit the mental drawing board again, the doors to the Chief of Police’s office opened up, and a familiar figure made deliberate strides across the bullpen. Sokka sprang into action, running up to her.
“Toph!”
She didn’t turn her head or acknowledge his presence, which he half expected. Still, he persisted. “Toph, it’s Sokka. I’d like to talk.”
Still silent, Toph continued to walk away from the officer’s working area and into some newly developed and empty corridors. When they turned the corner, Sokka spoke once again. “Toph—”
A strong, swift arm pushed him against the wall. He was met with her weary but deathly glare, and Sokka swallowed thickly. “Leave me alone, Sokka.”
Instinct told him to let sleeping polar bear dogs lie, but he couldn’t. Toph was pushing them away, and more than ever she needed them around. Because her friends were the only ones keeping the war she fought with herself at bay. She was her own worst enemy, and if Sokka didn’t intervene, he feared for the worst.
But this felt like he was fighting with his friend, his best friend. He’d prefer taking on his enemy’s army before fighting Toph.
With the courage he could muster, Sokka spoke clearly, calmly. “I can’t do that, Toph.”
“Sure you can,” she drawled out. “You just walk out the front door, and you don’t bother me unless I talk to you. Simple as that.”
“You’re avoiding what’s really bothering you,” he pointed out as she began to walk away.
“Gee, imagine that.”
“And you need to talk about that.”
Toph spun around on her heel and stood across from Sokka. The distance between them wasn’t much, but it felt eerily familiar to a setup for a duel.
“I didn’t realize you were a shrink along with being a councilman,” she hissed.
Sokka clicked his tongue as he retorted, “Don’t be ridiculous Toph, but I can tell that you need to talk about this with someone!”
She let out a sinister laugh. “Why? So they can tell me, `It's gonna be okay. You should be over this, it’s been two years. The happy memories should outweigh the bad.’”
He shook his head in frustration. “What’s going on, Toph? We were making progress! After the Swamp, and getting you to sleep in your bed again, what gives?”
“I’m sorry I’m not healing from the loss of my partner fast enough for you, Sokka.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“Oh, now you’re telling me how I think, great.”
“Toph!” His voice echoed through the empty hall, and Toph fell silent as Sokka took long strides closer to her. Despite the small distance between them now, it felt like miles. Sokka grew desperate and helpless. How could he help her? She was pushing him away…
He didn’t mean to sound so broken when he spoke, but the anguish of seeing his friend so sad became too heavy a burden for him to hide. “Please, Toph,” Sokka whispered. “What happened after we cleaned your bedroom? Was it… was it something I said?”
Toph let out a quiet scoff, and the redness of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Sokka. He waited intently as he saw the mixture of emotions cross her face.
Then she gave a quiet but wicked laugh as she hastily wiped a tear that escaped her eye. And with and eerily accurate aim, it almost seemed as if Toph was staring him in the eyes. “You know the last person that touched those clothes was Kanto,” she began. “The week before he died, he told me he was picking out my outfits for the week because he reorganized his side of the closet and raved about the new system, and how he was gonna tell me what he changed. So I would know what to grab.”
Sokka’s heart sank into his chest. “Toph—”
“And now we’ve gone and ruined that and there is nothing left in this world that was done by Kanto’s hand or last touched by him.”
“Toph I didn’t know—”
“You didn’t know because you were tired of me being sad about my dead boyfriend for two years and wanted me to move on and pushed me into doing that,” she interrupted, her words striking his heart and making the phantom pain unbearable. “Isn’t that right?”
Desperate to keep the conversation going, Sokka tried to talk and reason with her. “I’m not expecting you to be fine,” he explained, “but we are expecting some semblance of communication so that we can help you.
“Moving on from this kind of grief doesn’t happen when you’re alone, Toph.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I couldn’t move on from Yue without my family—without you. Why do you keep thinking this is a burden you have to carry alone?”
Toph laughed again, but it wasn’t sinister. And she didn’t glare or sneer at him like he expected. She suddenly appeared so weary and broken in front of Sokka, and it took everything in his being to not reach out to her and pull her into his arms. He looked back into her eyes, and what he saw was anguish and fury and exhaustion.
She spoke quietly, next. So quiet that it took Sokka a moment to register the words she said. But when he heard her, Toph’s voice and words were deafening.
“Because it seems the more time I spend with you all, the more it hurts.”
And like a dagger to the heart, Toph’s words hit him in a way that left him feeling lost and hopeless. “Toph—”
“Leave me alone, Sokka. I’m done talking to you. All of you.”
She left without another word, leaving Sokka alone in a dark and quiet hallway of the station, broken from their conversation, and from the realization that he may never speak with his best friend again.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
There For Them
Meant to post this yesterday, but you're getting a bit of Kantoph Mondangst (mostly hurt/comfort lol) today :D I'll try to get some fluff out to y'all soon!
......
He didn’t waste a moment to scoop up his daughter into his arms and run to the hospital. Spirits, he didn’t even put on shoes, he just had to get to her.
Lin held onto his neck and to her favorite stuffed animal as they ran through Republic City in the dead of night. Kanto ignored the sting of the evening wind and the chilly pavement as he made his way to the hospital, but in the back of his mind he should’ve known to bring a jacket for himself. Thank goodness he picked Lin up in her blanket, the poor thing would’ve been so cold without it.
When they arrived, the hospital was a blur of bright lights scattered around the building and a commotion of noises and movements, making him disoriented. Kanto only found his way through the place because of her—their—friends. Aang stood by Suki and On Ji next to a row of chairs where the children lay, and they waved to him.
Everyone was there, so it must’ve been bad.
Kanto’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, but he found his voice to call out for his friends. “Aang.”
The airbender provided a grim smile as he walked over to them. He held Lin closer to his chest as he began to ramble. “Where is she? How is she—”
“She’s with Katara,” Aang replied. “Sokka and Zuko are right by the room as well.”
“And how is she?” he repeated.
Kanto was met with silence, and his hands shook as the weight of his daughter suddenly felt heavier. “Aang,” he said in a low growl. “How is she?”
“We don’t know, Kanto,” Suki replied for Aang. “It’s too soon to tell.”
He let out a shaky exhale. That was not what he wanted to hear. “And when will we—”
“Baba?”
Kanto turned suddenly to Lin. The toddler was likely tired and cold and confused, and Kanto was making matters worse.
He brushed her cheek with his thumb reassuringly, then said in the most even toned voice he could muster, “Everything’s—Baba just needs to talk to Auntie Katara right now, okay? You can stay with Uncle Aang and your Aunties Suki and On Ji, okay?”
“Where’s Mama?”
His voice caught in his throat, but Kanto replied, “I—I’m going to find her, you stay with your aunts and uncle.”
She made no protest when he handed her off to Aang. When she was settled, Kanto gave her head a quick kiss, then turned on his heel to find her.
Kanto had no idea where he was going. His barren feet and some sort of intuition took him around corners and down hallways that were unfamiliar, and yet, he found his way to the room where Katara and Zuko and Sokka stood.
“Katara.”
His friends all turned at the sound of his voice, their faces pale with concern. Katara pulled Kanto in for a hug, and he didn’t want to let go.
But when he did, he gave a quiet sniffle as he wiped his eyes. He felt the reassuring hands of Sokka and Zuko on his shoulder as he asked Katara, “How is she?”
She didn’t answer right away, and that worried him. “Katara, what’s going on?”
“I—” Katara paused, biting her lip. “She uh… sustained some serious injuries Kanto—”
“Then why aren’t you helping her?” he asked, his voice rising and cracking as he felt his limbs shake. “Katara, I—she needs to get better. She needs the best, you—you need to help her.”
Katara took in a sharp breath. Her poor friend looked like a disheveled mess with his loose and mismatched pajamas, his hair sticking out in different directions, and his red rimmed eyes. She knew he was hurting, and she didn’t know what she could even say or do to help him understand. But she had to try, for the sake of hoping that he would calm down. “Yes, I know, Kanto. I’m going to do everything—”
“You need to help her now,” he cried.
“Kanto, she needs rest right now. We’ve done a lot to help them, but trying to fix everything at once will put too much strain on them—”
“Them? Who’s them, who else got hurt?”
A lump settled in the back of her throat, making it practically impossible to speak.
He didn’t know.
Katara swallowed thickly, fighting back her own emotions she felt. “The—the baby, Kanto.”
The world slowed down to a snail’s pace, and yet, Kanto’s mind could keep up with it. His mind moved slower than the world, focusing on only a single thought that sent him spiraling down a path filled with even more panic.
A baby. She was pregnant, and they didn’t even know. Toph didn’t even know.
“She’s pregnant,” he said slowly.
“Yes, Kanto.”
“And—and the baby??”
Katara placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s too soon to tell, but we’re working on it.”
Kanto shook his head and frantically paced the floor. “No, no it can’t—Katara you have to save them. You have to save them both.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“But Katara, that’s our baby, she—she doesn’t know, she won’t deal if she loses it and doesn’t know until after—” His voice caught in his throat, and he began to weep, the overwhelming fear of losing not only Toph but a baby sent him stumbling to the ground. He shook his head and tried to cry in his hands. “I can’t lose them both,” he whispered. “I can’t lose them both.”
Sokka and Zuko knelt by his side and held his arms, but after a minute he couldn’t say or do or feel anything other than the fear and despair he felt at that moment.
As he knelt on the ground with his two friends by his side and still holding his arms, Kanto felt a pair of warm, steady hands on his wet cheeks. Through his blurred vision, he saw Katara’s figure in front of him.
“Listen to me, Kanto. I’m going to do everything I can to save Toph—to save them both.”
His lip quivered as her statement. “Karara please. I—I need them okay just—”
“And I’m doing all that I can. I’m here, aren't I?
“The last session we did was tough, so I’m giving them a breather, but we’ll try the treatment again soon.”
“I’m going in there.”
“Kanto, I don’t think that’s such—”
“My pregnant wife is hurting, and to fix her that requires more pain and she doesn’t even know about the baby—I’m going to be in the room.”
Katara saw the look of determination on Kanto’s face, and she knew there was no stopping him. Her eyes never left his figure as he found his footing, and entered Toph’s room.
……
He sat there, still as a statue, holding onto her hand for dear life. Everything felt surreal, he didn’t know what was real and what was a figment of his imagination. But he had to focus, if not for himself, then for Toph. So he sat there, clinging to Toph’s hand and gently massaging it, not daring to let go for a single moment for fear of losing grip with reality.
She stirred in her sleep ever so slightly, and Kanto’s eyes widened as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Toph.”
Her eyes fluttered as he rubbed her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. She grimaced as she slowly became more conscious. “What—where am I?” she asked.
“At the hospital,” Kanto whispered. “You got pretty hurt in the field.”
“Psh, I could’ve told you that.”
Kanto let out a quiet chuckle, but continued. “Katara’s gonna take care of you, okay?”
She gave a stiff nod, and her hand moved up to hold his. Toph must’ve noticed Kanto was holding back, because she said, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
He let out a shaky breath. “Yes,” he began slowly. “There is. Um…”
“Just say it, Hotshot.”
Kanto sighed as he continued to rub her cheek. “Katara… has to be careful because of… because of the baby.”
Toph gasped, her other hand instinctively moving to her stomach. Kanto went to grab her hand, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay, you two will be okay.”
She shook her head, letting the tears fall. “I knew. I knew I wasn’t feeling well and I just ignored it I—”
“It’s not your fault, Toph. None of this is,” he whispered in his reassuring voice. “Let’s just focus on making you feel better, okay?”
He kissed her forehead and she nodded, gasping for breath. “I—I’m scared.”
“I know. But I’ll be right here the whole time. I’ve got you.”
“And what if—”
“Don’t think about that, you’ll be okay, and if it’s not okay, we’ll work through it together.”
“Kanto.”
He turned to find Katara waiting to start the next healing session. His hand gripped Toph’s, and Kanto looked back at his wife. “We have to get started, okay?”
With another shaky nod, Toph let him know she was ready.
……
The minutes and hours passed after Katara performed the second round of healing slowly, and Kanto couldn’t fall asleep. He was exhausted enough to do so, but he couldn’t; he needed to be awake when she woke up after that painful session. So, he lay beside her and focused on her even breaths and continuously brushed her hair out of her face, even when there were no more strands of hair to move away.
Suddenly, Kanto saw Toph’s eyes begin to flutter. He watched her slowly wake up, and for her to get used to the pain. She groaned and reached for Kanto’s hand, and he gave it to her.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” she croaked, but she still had a smirk on her face. “Where’s Lin?”
“With Katara and Zuko. She wasn’t happy, but it’ll have to do.”
“You should be with her,” Toph replied, squeezing his hand. “Can’t help anyone when you’re laying around waiting for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Chief. Gotta be here to support you.” Kanto paused, then gently placed his hand on her stomach. “Both of you.”
A quiet sob escaped Toph’s lips, her hold tightened on his hand. “You mean, they’re okay?” Her voice was soft, and barely louder than a whisper.
“We’re not out of the woods, but so far things are okay,” he replied.  “We’ll just take it easy for a while.”
Toph nodded, and leaned her forehead on Kanto’s. “Sounds like a plan, Hotshot.”
Kanto brushed a strand of hair from Toph’s face and gently kissed her. “Why don’t you get some rest?”
She kissed him back. “You should too.”
And with a small nod, Kanto closed his eyes as he held his wife close, not daring to ever let go.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
What Could Have Been
Okay so after I received this angsty ask yesterday, this scene got stuck in my head, so I wrote it down. Sorry for the Mondangst, but hopefully I can deliver on Tuesfluff tomorrow :')
......
Today was always a rather difficult day for the Beifong family. The day dragged on and had too many memories associated with it, but like other days, it came and went and time moved on no matter how hard they tried to make it stop.
But time also made things easier, and the sting of the day hurt less and less as they aged.
So it came as a bit of a surprise for Toph to receive a call that Lin did not show up at school. In all of Lin’s 16 years of schooling, she never skipped a day unless she was sick.
Luckily, Toph knew where she likely was and headed straight for the spot.
She found Lin at the top of his hill, on her knees and quietly weeping. Toph didn’t find the need to say anything, but decided to kneel next to Lin, silent as they faced Kanto’s grave together.
After a few minutes, Lin’s cries quieted and she wiped her eyes, at which point Toph decided to speak. “Skipping school, now?”
“I just…” Lin sniffled. “I couldn’t. Not today.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” Toph replied. And she did understand. Out of all the days in the year, she dreaded doing anything on this day. All of it was a reminder, even the things of little importance. They all reminded her of Kanto.
“I keep wondering,” Lin began. “I keep wondering what it would’ve been like if he was still here. If he raised me.”
“Hard to say,” Toph admitted. “But he would’ve loved watching you grow up. When he was around, he loved every little thing about you. And with your father, his love only grew stronger with time.”
“I just… I have so many questions. Would you have gotten married? Would I have had siblings? I mean, I know Su is my sister, but it still feels a little different. There’s a bit of disconnect.”
Toph closed her eyes and pressed her fingernails into her palms. “I think we would’ve done it all. Marriage, more kids, everything.
“Your father was a big part of my world, and I could imagine taking all those big steps with him.”
“Was he really that amazing?” Lin asked. “Because he almost doesn’t sound real.”
Toph smiled at that. “Yeah, seems unrealistic, huh?”
“Just that he was so great.”
“Well, he really was,” Toph whispered. “He put us first above all else, and he cared so much. I just… I wish you could’ve known him.”
Lin choked on a sob, her body shaking as she let her grief take over again. And as tears silently fell on Toph’s face, she pulled her daughter in for a tight embrace, wishing for an alternate life where Lin knew Kanto, and Kanto knew Lin.
“Do—do you think he’s proud of me?” Lin asked, just loud enough for Toph to hear.
And Toph cried when she asked this, because it wasn’t fair. Her daughter deserved to have Kanto in her life, she deserved to know who her father was.
Unfortunately, the life with Kanto was in their past. Every question lived in limbo, forever in a state of what could have been, what should have been, what was supposed to be.
“Yeah, baby girl,” Toph replied hoarsely. “He would’ve been so proud of you.”
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Change
Kantoph Mondangst here we go! I'll probably have more to add to this before it's posted on ao3, just a heads up :)
......
“What are you doing?”
He said nothing as he kissed her neck and gently rubbed her stomach while she cut vegetables for dinner. They weren’t unwelcome gestures, in fact, she quite enjoyed the attention. Still, Toph had tasks to complete and she couldn’t have her boyfriend cling to her like this for the next six or so months. So when he didn’t stop kissing her neck and rubbing her stomach, she feigned being exasperated and once again commented on his antics. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Nope,” he replied quickly, grinning into her neck. His hands gently wrapped around hers and coaxed them to release their hold on the knife and vegetables, and once she did, he turned her around to face him. “I have nothing to do except kiss you and say hi to our little baby badgermole all day long.”
“That baby badgermole is barely a baby right now,” she teased.
“Nonsense. I can tell already.”
“Are you calling me fat??”
“Please Toph. You’re perfect the way you are.”
“That’s not a no, Hotshot.”
He said nothing, but leaned his forehead against hers and swiped his thumb over the small swell in her belly. Normally, such close quarters and cheesy gestures would’ve had Toph complaining until the man stopped, but with Kanto, it was okay. In fact, she enjoyed it. Loved it, even.
His hair tickled her forehead as he stood there with her, leaning on the counter. She could practically feel his mind reeling with thoughts, and one of them he thought aloud. “You can actually feel the heartbeat, huh,” he quietly remarked.
Toph chuckled. “Yeah, ever since Katara said that’s what the echo was, can’t stop hearing it.”
“I wish I could feel it.”
She teasingly clicked her tongue at him. “If you weren’t such a lily-livered earthbender, you probably could.”
“Hey!” he playfully shouted as he wrapped his arms around her, effectively ‘trapping’ her. “Some would say I’m a pretty good earthbender.”
“Pretty good doesn’t cut it with seismic sense, Hotshot.”
He grumbled and buried his face into her neck, and she breathed out a laugh as his towering figure huddled over hers. They stood in their kitchen, content with the silence and the intimate moment they shared with one another. Pretty soon, those moments would be limited, so there was no need to rush. And it was strange how soon things would change. One moment, they were two, the next, they would be three. A change that while they had months to prepare for, would still be rather sudden for the both of them. For that, a wave of apprehension overwhelmed Toph. The idea of motherhood was distant, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be prepared.
It was as if he knew what she was thinking, because he commented on the very same idea.
“Funny,” he began. “A year from today, our lives will be so different. And the year after that will be different, and so will the year after that.”
The comment seemed straightforward, but it left Toph curious. She had only told him last week that she was pregnant, and while he had been ecstatic then, there was that fear in the back of her mind that this wasn’t what he wanted. She swallowed thickly and noted, “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“Not at all,” he reassured her quickly. “If anything, it’ll be amazing and perfect. I just mean, it’s crazy what can happen in a year.”
“I suppose,” she pondered.
Toph meant to say more, but she refrained. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of the change, or the weariness she still felt about becoming a mother, or a combination of both. Change could be good, but she feared it wouldn’t be all perfect like he dreamed it would be.
He seemed to be reading her thoughts once again. “Don’t worry,” he began, “I’m going to be with you every step of the way, and you’re going to be a great mother. The very best mama.”
She could hear the smile in his voice, and as quickly as her worries came, they disappeared. Her response, however, was filled with sarcasm and sass for their continued banter. “I feel so much better knowing you’ll be there to hover all day,” she jabbed. “And of course you’re not worried about being a dad. You’ll be a natural.”
“True,” he replied, mimicking Toph’s dramatic tone. “But that’s only because we’re gonna have a baby girl that’s gonna be just like you. And I know you like the back of my hand.”
Toph scoffed. “How do you know that??”
“A father’s intuition.”
“Well, my motherly instincts say it could be a boy. And if he’s anything like you, I know you like the earth beneath my feet.”
“Oh yeah?” he jokingly challenged. “What happens when I pick you up from the ground and you’re not on the earth, huh?”
His hands found her waist and did just that. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, her feet losing the sense of the world around her. Toph laughed at his antics, and he chuckled with her as her legs wrapped around his waist. “I’d hit you until you put me back down,” she threatened, thumping his chest with her knuckle.
Kanto breathed out a laugh. “I suppose I deserve that.”
She smiled at him while his thumbs smoothed out the wrinkles on her shirtfront. Her hands found his face and traced out the marvel and joy etched on it. Things were perfect, even with change looming over them. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem so bad with Kanto around for it, despite what she thought moments ago.
He looked up at her. “I know you’re still worried, but I’m really looking forward to what this year is gonna bring us.”
His heart beat with hers, and his hands were warm and gentle and reassuring, and fear was far from her mind. All she felt was joy and excitement with him.
So she didn’t hesitate to respond, “I’m looking forward to it, too.”
~~~
She dreaded this day. She wanted anything but this day to come.
But the days came and went with the wind, and a year had passed since she felt his heart beat in time with hers, a year since his warm hand was in hers, a year since she heard this deep, calming voice.
She hated today. It reminded her how much things could change in a year.
Toph bitterly chuckled at the thought. He wasn’t wrong when he spoke about change before they had Lin. Change came suddenly and unapologetic. And their lives were so different from a year ago. But they weren’t better. That was apparent.
The memorial itself was a lovely, intimate ceremony with her friends and some close work colleagues in attendance. He would’ve loved it, or, she hoped he would’ve. Out of all the endless conversations they had, death was not one of them.
All the flowers had to be shipped in; Republic City’s bitter winter started to roll in early, and no native flora could withstand the sudden overnight freezes. Still, it was important that the hill had a flowery aroma with the incense. His botany obsessed heart and mind would’ve rattled off all the different types and facts of each flower, and he would’ve spent half the time describing each petal in great detail to Toph.
She insisted that there be at least one panda lily to set by his memorial, and the lengths she went through to have one in bloom in time for today was no small feat. It hung low by her side in one hand, the other occupied with her—their—daughter. Poor Lin didn’t understand the reason behind today. The chilly wind bit at her cheeks, and she sought refuge in the crook of Toph’s neck while she waited for the adults to carry on with whatever kept them outside on this cold, windy afternoon.
Zuko gave the speech. It was lovely, really, but Toph didn’t remember a single word of it. And all the hands and pats to her shoulder and back felt distant; they weren’t his steady hands, and if they weren’t his hands, then she didn’t want their support.
At the end of the formal ceremony, those in attendance dropped a single, unique flower by the memorial portrait. Some took a moment to say something to his picture, others dropped the flower and left. It meant a great deal that so many came to honor him, but truthfully, Toph didn’t care about anyone in attendance. She didn’t care about the number of flowers that dropped to the ground for him. Because in the end, only one mattered, and it wasn’t even hers.
When everyone dropped their flower in honor of him, Toph set Lin down and held onto her hand. Katara handed her the very last flower designated to be placed for him, and Toph gently steered Lin toward the memorial. It took a few moments, but when Toph and Lin arrived at his picture, Toph placed her panda lily on the pile for him, and gave a white chrysanthemum to Lin. She wrapped Lin’s chubby fingers around the stem and gestured toward the flowers.
“Come here, Lin,” Toph prompted, rather shocked that her voice sounded so strong and calm just then. “Give your flower to Daddy.”
At the sound of his name, Lin toddled over to his memorial and the pile of flowers. Her little body crouched down to the level of the pile, and she set hers on top.
Toph pulled Lin into her arms and whispered to her, “Good job, Lin.” She placed a single kiss on Lin’s cheek, and listened as her daughter said, “Dada,” over and over.
She ignored the sting of the breeze as it hit her tear-stained cheeks. “Tell Baba you love him,” she told Lin.
Lin whispered to the wind those words, saying them only loud enough for Toph to hear.
Spirits, she hated all of this. Time moved so slowly each and every day, and yet, here they were, remembering his life because it has been a year since he was alive. She hated that a year had passed, she hated that she still wasn’t over it, she hated that all the things they used to forever memorialize him were things that she couldn’t enjoy to their full extent, and she dreaded the day Lin wouldn’t call for her Baba any longer. Because that day would be sooner than Toph cared to think about.
There were too many people around, now. Toph wanted a moment with her family, no matter how broken it was. But it didn’t feel right to snap at the others and scream at them to leave, so she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until finally, Toph Beifong got her wish. As the crowd disappeared and all who remained were her closest friends, Toph only told them once that she wished to be alone. When they left her alone with Lin and his memorial, and as her friends waited at the bottom of the hill, Toph wept openly for him. For the drastic swerve her life took, for the inevitable reality that she’d spend more time separated from him than they were together, and for the change that the future held for her, because she no longer looked forward to it.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Drowning In You
Hi all, happy Kantoph Mondangst! :D This chapter, and the rest of the story can be found on AO3, but this is 11th chapter of The Long, Winding Road To You. Hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading!
......
Her eyes were weary, but she rubbed the sleep out of them as she paced her office for the umpteenth time. Toph’s mind ran and ran and then reran all the information she had about that day, and still, she came up with a dead end.
To say that she was frustrated was an understatement.
How could a gang killing be so difficult to crack? Why was it impossible to find the bastard? Why was she failing him again?
Toph fell into her chair, exhausted. It never used to be so tough to figure out these cases. One would land on her desk, they’d solve it in the blink of an eye, and they’d move onto the next case or project.
But that was when he was around, and he was her right hand man.
That was when she had friends, too. Friends that weren’t nosy or pushy or always in her business asking if she was okay. Friends that made it a point to check in on her when she was alone and stood by her side whenever she pushed them away.
After the last confrontation, though, she may have pushed too hard. She shoved them onto the ground and spit in their face, and now…
Now, she was alone.
She shook the thought from her mind, because all she could focus on at work was the case. Finding his killer. That was what mattered.
It took her years to actually pick up his case and look for his killer, but a number of things pushed her to focus as much of her energy on the case as she could. For one, she had the time. Lin was still young, but was starting school and a lot of her energy was spent during the day. She was out after dinner routinely now. Another reason was she had the ability to. Before, Toph’s mind remained transfixed on the memories of Kanto in the past. She was numb to the present, and up until recently, didn’t look forward to the future. With her friends off her back and her daughter busy in preschool and daycare, Toph had the ability to focus on what she could do today and tomorrow to catch the son of a bitch that killed him.
And finally, she was desperate to feel close to him again.
Kanto’s mark on the world was short-lived, and Toph craved anything and everything that made her feel close to him. Lin provided her much solace on that front, but still, it wasn’t enough. As painful as it was to think about, she had to go over the last few hours of his life. Perhaps that would ease the ache in her heart.
So, she picked up the cold case that was her dead boyfriend’s and vowed to stop at nothing to find the killer.
All future meetings she scheduled were about the case, and everything else was delegated to the bullpen unless it required the Chief’s seal. And when it seemed that everything needed the Chief’s seal on it, she gave the seal to her secretary to just hand out to people that tried to bother her. She was too busy with Kanto’s case and finding any lead.
Needless to say, leads were rather slim at the moment. Two years turned people’s memories foggy, and once reliable witnesses either wound up with hazy recollections when re-questioned, or they mysteriously disappeared altogether.
A knock on her door signaled Officer Jiahao’s presence, and Toph sprang up from the couch to meet him halfway in her office. Eyebrow raised, she questioned the officer. “What have you got?”
Jiahao shifted in his stance and mumbled, “Not much, Chief. No new witnesses came up.”
“Wh—how come?? Are people scared to talk?”
“Well, it’s been over two years, Chief. People don’t remember that night very well.”
The comment made Toph scoff. How could people do that? How could they just—ignore the fact that someone died and left behind a family? Did they just not care about others anymore?
She stood there feeling bitter. Bitter against the world, against the people she protected on a daily basis, against the killers.
But the bitterness couldn’t overcome her senses. No, she had to focus on the facts. That was what he always told her.
……
“You’re thinking too much about this,” he commented.
“How can I not?” she asked, sighing in frustration. “People act like assholes and practically destroy this city, and I’m just supposed to act like I’m impartial? This is my city too.”
Kanto let out a quiet sigh, then stood behind Toph. His hands went to her shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly and slowly loosening the tension in her body. “I know,” he mumbled. “We’ll never really be unbiased, but we have to try our best. Just… Forget about feelings for the day, and focus on the facts, you know?”
Toph nodded and let out a tired breath. It never occurred to her how passionate she’d become about these cases, how sometimes the feelings overwhelmed her. But it seemed that Kanto knew when she was on edge, and he always brought her back and kept her grounded.
They stood there in silence for a moment, grateful for the temporary reprieve of stress. And then Toph’s hand found one of his, and she brushed her thumb across the back of it. “Thanks, Hotshot.”
She heard Kanto chuckle, then felt his smile as he kissed her cheek. “All in a days’ work, Chief.”
……
Toph sighed and rolled her neck back and forth, trying to release some of the tension that settled in knots in her shoulders. The whole case was certifiably cold, but she couldn’t give up, especially after she neglected it for so long. But the evidence was already slim, and as Officer Jiahao confirmed, their witnesses were few and far between.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, then thought aloud. “Okay, so Officer Kanto left the office that day…”
At the pause, Jiahao responded with the answer. “He left the station at the end of his shift. Sunset, Chief.”
“And Lin and I were at home. What happened next according to the file?”
“Well, he was seen walking with some of the officers. Myself, Officer Han, and Officer Panik walked out with him.”
“And then what?”
“And then…” Jiahao paused, fidgeting with the papers in his hand. “And then Panik and Han turned on the block toward their house, and left Deputy Kanto. Last they saw him, he was heading home.”
She pointed a glare at the rookie, frustrated with his responses. “Well, he didn’t go home, did he?” she asked. “So where did he go??”
“I—um…” Jiahao stuttered. “We don’t know—”
“Do any of the officers know?” Toph asked.
“I—I’m sorry, Chief?”
“Have you asked all the officers that worked that day what they remember?” she repeated, her blood beginning to boil.
“Um… No, I haven’t—”
“Come on,” she interrupted, pushing past the cop and making her way to the door. “We’re gonna talk to every single officer.”
Jiahao hesitated, his heart rate elevating with every passing second. But Toph didn’t have time to wait for the kid to comprehend the words on his own. “Rook! Get a move on, it’s an order. We can’t question every officer by standing in here.”
It seemed that her words finally registered to the officer. Jiahao sprang into action when she gave the order, and they spent the whole afternoon walking by each desk, asking the same questions to every single officer, searching for answers or signs or…
Or anything.
They grew weary from the questioning after hours of talking with the officers, and they weren’t even halfway there. But they had to speak with everyone. They just had to.
After the 50th officer was questioned, Toph cracked her neck and stretched out her tired limbs while they stood in the middle of a quiet hallway for a moment. Jiahao seemed to be doing something similar as he massaged his hand, and they breathed tired sighs from the long days’ work.
As he continued to knead the joints in his hand, Jiahao asked, “Hey, Chief, do you think we can hold off on the rest of the officers for tomorrow? My hand is starting to cramp—”
“Are you saying you want to quit?” She cut to the chase. Toph wasn’t going to put in the effort to motivate Jiahao to keep working. There were more important things to do.
“Wh—no Chief!” Jiahao responded quickly. “But, but I do think we should rest, maybe spend the rest of the day reading over the notes?”
“That would take time away from interviewing people, though,” Toph countered. “And we need to talk to every person in Republic City that lived here during the time Kanto died.”
“Chief…”
Toph slammed her foot into the earthy floor, a light tremor echoed in the empty hallway. “Listen, Jiahao, I screwed up and let this case get cold, but I’ll be damned if I don’t uproot this city without finding this fucker that killed him. I’m not letting them get away with this. I refuse to.”
Silence filled the space between them as she waited patiently for his response. His heart was steady, but his stance shifted between the balls of his feet.
But all that mattered was that his next words were spoken clearly and honestly. He meant every word he said, and knowing that fact filled Toph with relief and comfort.
“We won’t let them get away, Chief. I’ll work right by your side on this case until the end.”
She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, because she needed to hear him say that. Because now, they were a team, and their main purpose centered around catching Kanto’s killer. With his support, Toph was ready to dive headfirst into this case, and nothing was going to stop her.
After giving a stiff nod toward Jiahao’s direction, she relayed her next orders. “Alright then. Break time is over, it’s time to catch a killer.”
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Note
What does Toph do to cope with Kanto’s death?
:O
Angsty headcanons here we go!
She’s in complete denial before she “sees” his body, and even then she doesn’t believe it, doesn’t really set in until she feels the engagement ring and someone says the words: “Kanto’s dead.”
Toph is pretty militant for the funeral services. Everything has to be perfect for Kanto.
After, she becomes rather catatonic, just doesn’t move to take care of herself or Lin. She can’t bear to be with Lin, because everything she does reminds Toph of Kanto.
At first, Toph doesn’t automatically think of Kanto when things happen. There’s a moment where she’s happy about things, but then something will remind her of Kanto and the heartache settles in.
Eventually, as time begins to heal wounds, she learns to move on and raise Lin well by keeping Kanto in the back of her mind. She learns to take care of herself and Lin because Kanto would be heartbroken to see them struggle.
It takes a while, but she learns to embrace the things that remind her of Kanto. She’ll tell Lin stories (even if she’s too young to respond), and at some point even tells the Gaang.
If we go with the HC that Toph meets Kanto in the Swamp a few months/a year after his death, hearing his voice again and being so close to holding him nearly breaks her. But after a second goodbye, she learns to move on much faster, especially since she got to actually say goodbye.
After a few years, she learns to embrace the sad memories with the happy ones. And the sad moments slowly but surely become less prominent.
Still, in the back of her mind, Kanto is there, and she never quite gets over losing him.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Out of Time
So this was supposed to be for Mondangst last week ope. It's an unrelated story from my other works, but I still hope you enjoy :)
......
They had the upper hand. Cables and boulders flew in every direction, but they had the upper hand.
At least, that was what they thought.
Their movements were in tandem with one another, simple, effective, and rather thoughtless. Neither one of them had to say a word or bark out an order, they just knew each other well enough to fight seamlessly together.
But as they fought back to back, their ability to hold off the perps single handedly dwindled, and they were ready to call out for any spirit willing to lend a hand as their senses became overwhelmed in the fight. Kanto’s limbs grew weary from the blocking hits and sending volleys of counterattacks toward their enemies, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
He stole a glance behind himself to check on Toph, only to find Toph not there. Kanto panicked, because if she wasn’t there, did that mean she was hurt? Was she fighting a group of thugs somewhere else? Her whereabouts were now a complete mystery to the deputy and that terrified him. Kanto couldn’t lose Toph. Not now, not ever.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and Kanto found a burst of energy to disorient the perpetrators and look for Toph. She became his priority.
With a flick of his wrist, his cables snapped up from the ground and he bent them back toward him, tripping his opponents as the wires reeled back in their spool. Kanto turned his head swiftly. “Toph!” he called out for her, scanning the area for any signs of her. Fear and worry got the best of him, and Kanto began to wander around the battlefield mindlessly, desperately searching for Toph. From what he could tell, there were no signs of her or any perpetrators that weren’t already accounted for. “Toph!” he called again, his voice weak and cracking as his mind drifted to the worst possible thoughts. She couldn’t be captured or hurt or dead, he wouldn’t survive if that was the case. He shook his head. No, she couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t.
The dread weighed heavily on Kanto, and he sank to his knees. His willpower was temporarily lost, causing his limbs to finally succumb to the numbness of overuse.
Suddenly, a sharp pain struck between his shoulder blade and he cried out in pain from it. His head turned to find the source of the attack, and he saw three men approach him at a great speed, weapons at the ready in their hands. He haphazardly pulled out the object—an arrow—from his shoulder, groaning in pain as he did so, preparing to stand and fight no matter how dire the situation was.
But just as Kanto prepared himself to stand, he was encased in a metal trap.
No, not a metal trap, it was a—a shield.
The whole situation confused the earthbender, and he focused on his darkened surroundings before taking any sudden actions.
He was covered by a metal sheet of sorts, but there were holes and it sort of reminded him of his armor—
Kanto gasped. It was Toph’s armor.
He immediately broke free of the makeshift shield and pushed a boulder at the attackers, but they were already down.
Kanto spun around, desperately looking for Toph.
“Toph!” he screamed, scanning his surroundings until his eyes locked on the most beautiful woman in the world. She stood in the middle of the carnage she made, and Kanto nearly cried out of relief as he ran to her. “Toph, thank the spirits, I was so—”
“Kanto?” Toph turned straight into him, and she began to fall backwards from the force.
He groaned from the pain in his shoulder, but caught her as she stumbled. “Hey, it’s okay babe, I’ve got—”
His heart dropped when he saw her chest, and his legs lost their strength to hold up himself and Toph.
Her chest and stomach were covered in a deep red from some sort of wound. All Kanto could think or do right then was apply pressure to where he saw the most bleeding come from with one hand and support Toph’s head and neck in the other.
She gave a tired smile at him, her breathing wet and ragged from the blood. “It’s just a scratch,” she gasped, hoping to make a joke out of the dire situation.
“Shh, please, Toph. Save your energy,” he begged. Kanto moved his hand away from her stomach to grab her legs and lift her up, but he couldn’t. His vision blurred from the searing pain he felt when he tensed his arm, and Toph’s cries were too much that his heart couldn’t bear to inflict further pain.
They were stuck.
Kanto’s hand went back to Toph’s stomach, covering the gaping wound as much as he could. He swallowed the bile that began to form in his throat and managed to say, “You have to hold on—hold on for help.”
“What help?” she asked, barely in a whisper. “It’s just us, Hotshot.”
Kanto cursed under his breath as his lip quivered.
She was right, they were alone.
“Fuck, Toph,” he quietly cried. “Why’d you do it?”
Toph weakly chuckled, coughing up blood afterwards. “Couldn’t stand the thought of losing you… This—” she sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed Kanto’s hand that pressed down on the wound. “...This was easier.”
“No.” Kanto shook his head. “No. I need you, you can’t leave me… Lin needs you, babe. Please, she needs her mother to come home and… and teach her how to earthbend!”
He felt her squeeze his hand, and he looked at her, face contorted and teary eyed and frowning. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Hotshot,” she whispered, the corner of her lip twitching up to crack a smile.
At least, that was what Kanto told himself.
Her hand went up to his face, and Kanto could feel her shaking as she rubbed his cheek with her thumb. “What I’d give to see your smile right now. Spirits, I’d die.”
He choked out a sob, shaking uncontrollably as he held her and pulled her close so their foreheads touched.
“It’s not—I wanted forever, baby,” he breathed out.
“We don’t have that, just now…”
“I—I can… I can run for help, something—”
“No, please.” Toph’s grip on his face tightened ever so slightly, and her eyes pleaded with him. “Don’t—don’t leave me, Kanto.”
It was a surreal moment, to realize and accept that the love of his life was going to die in his arms. And truthfully, he didn’t quite comprehend it all. But after hearing her speak, and seeing her fighting so hard to stay conscious while simultaneously wishing to rest, there was nothing to be done except to hold her and to give her last wishes to her.
So he released the pressure on her wound, and held her hand—the one that remained on his face.
“I’m not going anywhere, Chief.”
She gave a small smile as her eyes fluttered to stay open. “Good, because your smile is the last thing I ever want to see.”
With the strength he had, he smiled for her, and her hand swiftly moved to feel his crooked smile and the dimples they formed. Her eyes momentarily grew bright as she took in his grin.
She kept tracing it, over and over again. “Beautiful,” she breathed out.
“I love you.” His voice cracked and his heart broke as he said it, but he needed to.
“I…love you to—” Her voice caught in her throat, and she gasped for air.
Kanto clenched Toph’s hand, desperate for her to hold on. His voice a broken whisper as he spoke, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, babe.”
“Don’t be… don’t be sorry, I’m glad I got to…to spend the rest of my life with—”
She exhaled, and her hand slackened in his grip.
Through his blurred vision, he saw the light in her eyes disappear. And when that light went out, so did his world. He heard nothing, and he felt nothing, and all he wished for as he swayed and sobbed as he held onto Toph’s body was for more time with the love of his life.
But it was too late. Their time was up.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
Steps
Hello! Happy Kantoph Mondangst! Down to the wire (once again), but I still hope you enjoy! :)
......
Apparently, Toph screamed for him immediately after. Apparently, she nearly threw herself over the edge of a ledge without thinking of the consequences; luckily, Zuko was there just in time to grab her. Apparently, she cried in his and Katara’s arms, begging for Kanto to come back.
She honestly didn’t remember any of that.
Katara remembered. She remembered every syllable that Toph cried out for Kanto, the way she clawed the soil trying to escape from Zuko’s arms, and the look of pain and desperation on her husband’s face as he restrained their friend. It wasn’t like Katara to be so speechless at a time like that, but all she could do was fall down on her knees and hold onto Toph’s forearm as the three of them cried together, all for different reasons.
Eventually the rest of the group found them, and they took refuge in a cave not far from where Toph met Kanto, and they rested before leaving. There really wasn’t much else they were able to handle at that moment, but they knew that sleep was the best remedy before they left.
Despite the fact that exhaustion plagued her, Katara couldn’t fall asleep. Perhaps it was the rough ground and it being years since she slept in such rough conditions, or maybe it was the fact that her mind was still reeling from the events that transpired earlier in the day. Whatever the reason, she got up and walked to the edge of the cave to hopefully catch a glimpse of the night’s sky. Likely a fruitless attempt, but she still yearned to feel the moon’s rays on her skin and to breathe in fresh air.
She got none of that by exiting the cave, but Katara saw that she wasn’t alone. The waterbender called out quietly, “You should be resting.”
Toph sat on some uprooted earth of her own construction and weakly waved her hand. “I can’t sleep.”
The platform of earth was long enough for two, and Katara sat down next to her friend without further thought. They sat there for a while, quietly breathing in the muggy air in the Swamp while they both recalled the day’s events individually. Katara thought of the way that Toph’s eyes were wide with shock and anguish when Kanto’s spirit left. She thought of how Zuko held her waist and buried his face in her back, torn at the thought that his restraint was hurting her, but not daring to let go for a second. And she thought—
“Did you see him?”
Katara looked at Toph. She seemed calm, her face still splotchy from emotion and crying, but calm. Her eyes weren’t wild and desperate, they were clear and focused, as if Katara’s voice would keep her firmly planted on solid ground. The waterbender swallowed thickly, trying to find her voice, then answered, “Yes.”
Toph’s nose scrunched up, as if she was frustrated with the answer. But she further probed her friend. “What—what did he look like?”
A lump formed in Katara’s throat, because even though it had nearly been two years since Kanto died, Katara missed him too. She saw the figure of her dear friend once again, and chills ran down her spine just at the recollection.
Katara let out a tired sigh and closed her eyes, trying to focus on what he looked like to describe it to Toph. “He… He kind of looked like how the wind feels. Like, it’s there, but not really.
“Kanto wasn’t smiling or anything because he was leaving, and he never took his eyes off of you. I only saw him for a moment, but he ignored everything else except you.”
“Did he look the same otherwise?” Toph asked.
“From what I could tell, yes. Same hair, his height and build was the same as he was aliv—the same as before, and he had the same look of concern he had whenever he worried about you.”
Toph breathed out a laugh and replied quietly, “He always did worry about the littlest things.”
Katara chuckled weakly and grabbed her friend’s hand. “You were never a ‘little thing’ to him. You were his world, you know. You and Lin.”
She didn’t respond, but Toph continued to hold Katara’s hand and her eyes and gaze fell into a fog. The waterbender watched her wearily as they sat in silence, and took note of the stillness of her friend. Even Toph’s breaths were stiller than the humid air, just barely noticeable to Katara. And when it came clear that Toph wasn’t interested in responding to that particular comment, Katara looked up toward the sky, hoping to see a sliver of the moon.
Her thoughts were interrupted once again by Toph. “It’s unfair.”
Katara sighed quietly and rubbed Toph’s hand with her thumb. “I know it is. But we’re here to—”
“It’s unfair that you all can… that you all have memories of Kanto that are images. You can pick up pictures and see him. I… I can’t do that.”
Katara’s heart ached as she listened, and Toph lowered her head as she continued, “I never really thought I was missing much when it came to seeing someone until he died. I saw him better than anyone. I could feel his heart, I often knew where he was, I knew his voice and laugh like it was my own, and I memorized every smile line on his face.
“But now that he’s gone, I don’t see any of that. And I’m not good with words, so I can’t even describe him to Lin. You guys can see him and recall everything about him with others easily,  and you can show Lin pictures. But... I knew Kanto in such a different way.”
Toph sniffled and wiped her eyes hastily with her free hand. “I was so close to feeling him again, it was like some sick, twisted joke. Like the universe was taunting me, telling me that I can be so close to him that I can almost smell him, but just as I reach for him, he’s gone.”
Katara removed her hand from Toph’s so that she could pull her in close. As Katara rubbed soothing circles on Toph’s back, Toph sighed heavily and leaned her head on Katara’s shoulder.
It really was a sick joke. And yet, a true blessing that Toph could recall Kanto’s voice and heart and footsteps from her years of knowing him and memorizing his mark on the world. But memories fade, and she had no way of regaining and rebuilding them. They were as complete as they were going to be, and as time moved on, they would fade away. Like most footprints on the earth, time erased them.
“I just don’t want to forget him,” Toph whispered. “I don’t want anyone to forget him. He deserves that much.”
“He won’t be forgotten,” Katara promised. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“How?” she asked bitterly. “I can barely talk about him.”
“Well, despite the fact that today was really difficult, I think progress was made.” When Toph didn’t respond, Katara added, “This was the first time since his funeral that you said his name.
“It might be too soon, but I think maybe it’s time to go through his things. While we have momentum, you know?”
Toph said nothing, but took a deep breath. She did not admit it that night, but Katara was right. Saying goodbye to Kanto was cathartic, even if it was the hardest thing she had to do in recent years. It was a tiny step toward closure, but a step nonetheless.
And for once, Toph felt a flicker of hope when she thought of him.
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Text
What If
Happy Kantoph Mondangst! :D
I have some ideas to add to this, but perhaps I'll save that for next week ;) Thank you for reading as always!
......
Time moved, whether slowly or quickly wasn’t up to Toph, but it moved. The sun rose and fell and the days began and ended until there were too many days since she last felt him, last heard him. Almost two years, to be exact.
And time left her numb.
She lived each day to survive, and she hated that she could barely function without him. To make matters worse, Lin suffered the most from Toph’s hollow presence. She needed and wanted attention that sometimes Toph couldn’t provide, and she just knew that she was letting her daughter down.
But how could she move on? How could she just… let him go?
She didn’t know. And she feared she never would.
Her friends continued to check in with her almost everyday, and it was nice to have company, but their burden felt heavy on Toph’s shoulders, too. They should be living their lives, not babysitting her.
But time wouldn’t shake them off her back. They were a constant in her life, whether she wanted it or not.
It was probably for the best, if she was being honest.
Still, they always dragged her into saying yes to dumb shit that had absolutely nothing to do with her. Hence, the mission.
She wasn’t sure why she agreed to the mission. Toph didn’t even know why they were all gathering for this task. But based on the debrief, it was a stupid mission. It was stupid to spend so much time in the Swamp for them, and Toph specifically, to look for spirity mumbo jumbo when she couldn’t see. But the group insisted that she tag along, and it wasn’t like she had anything better to do.
When all the children were settled in Gaoling with her parents, the group flew off just like old times. And throughout the journey, everyone warned her of the visions of the Swamp, of the people she may hear or visit with.
Well, there was really only one person, but they kept that part open-ended.
For that, she was grateful.
…….
It didn’t take long for Toph to end up on her own in the Swamp.
Seriously, though. What was a blind woman doing on a mission that required having the ability to see? Only the spirits knew, and Toph went off on her own out of spite and boredom, and because she was partnered with Zuko and Katara and well…
Sometimes it was hard to hang out with the both of them. It reminded her of what she could’ve been with…
Toph shook her head and kept walking.
She casually trekked through the muddy forest of the Swamp, focusing on the sounds and vibrations around her to keep her friends within her sights so she wasn’t completely lost in a mysterious murky forest. Probably wasn’t the smartest thing for her to be on her own, but she just had to get away.
As she walked and kicked small pebbles in her path, a soft breeze arrived that alleviated some of the humidity of the swampy air. The wind had a liveliness to it, dancing around her and playing with her hair and loose clothing as she kept her brisk pace. It felt familiar to her, the wind. Almost like how someone would come up to her and tug at her clothes to get her attention, or how someone would push her bangs out of her face. As if the wind knew her thoughts, it managed to push her hair enough to tuck it behind her ear.
Suddenly, she stopped.
The breeze was laughing. His laugh. Soft, faint, teasing her to come closer. And the air left Toph’s lungs, she stood frozen in place, trying to figure out what tricks her mind was playing with her.
But then it wasn’t playing tricks with her. She heard him.
“Hey Chief.”
Her heart burst with joy and broke all at the same time, and she didn’t know what she should’ve been feeling at that moment. So she stood there, mouth agape, tears freely flowing, and her lips daring to say his name for the first time in two years.
“Kanto.”
“It’s good to see you, Toph.”
She sobbed. His voice was as warm as she remembered, and she could still hear the smile in it. But it was lighter, more airy, as if it would disappear in a moment. It didn’t ground her like it used to. If anything, it dared her to fly away with him, wherever he was.
Toph loved it, but she also hated it.
He was a ghost or a spirit, that much she knew. And that meant that she couldn’t hold him or touch him or feel his heart or his breath and she ached to feel him. But she couldn’t. So she stood there openly crying in the middle of a swamp, extending her arms and wishing she could reach out and feel him.
The breeze danced around her and she heard him speak again.
“Hey, don’t cry, Chief! I hate to see you cry, you know that.”
“I—” she sniffled, wiping her eyes and nose with her damp sleeve. “I’m sorry. I just...fuck, Kanto. I miss you.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I miss you too, Angel.”
“I just want to hold you,” she gasped. “It’s unfair.”
He sighed, or she thought he did. Every word and ‘breath’ he took gave her strength, but Toph yearned for more.
She knew she was so close to feeling him. As if one step closer would reach him, or if her arm was long enough, she’d find his soft but strong hands, or if she leaned her head, she’d find his forehead there.
But she couldn’t do any of those things. He wasn’t there. Not really.
He changed the subject. “How’s our little Linny?”
“She’s uh, she’s good,” Toph whispered. “She—she really misses you. Calls for you every night still.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be there.”
“I know.”
For some reason, Toph kept her hands held up by her waist with her palms up. She felt the wind tickle her fingers and palms, and it almost felt like his hands were holding hers again.
Almost.
“Kanto I—” Toph bit her lip, resisting the urge to burst into tears once again. “I miss you so much. I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You’re doing amazing, Toph. And you have your friends to help you.”
“But I don’t want them!” she cried. “I want you!”
“I know, but I can’t be there. Not physically, at least,” he replied, his voice calm and sad. “I miss you too.”
“Kanto—”
“Tell Lin that I love her and miss her, will you? If you want, that is. I know it might be hard to talk about me since she won’t remember me—”
“Of course I’ll tell her,” she interrupted. “And she can’t forget you. She—she won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
He went silent, and she hoped he was smiling. She couldn’t tell anymore.
Her fingers danced with the wind.
“There’s a reason I’m here, Toph,” he spoke again softly. “I think you know why you called me here.”
Toph frowned. “I didn’t call for you, though.”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, “but you haven’t been able to let me go—”
“Why should I?” she snapped. “Am I just supposed to move on like you didn’t exist? Like you didn’t make me fall in love with you, like you didn’t give me the happiest days I’ve ever lived, like you didn’t die and break my heart into a million pieces?”
“Letting go and forgetting are two different things, Chief,” he explained. “But you haven’t been able to talk about me or even sleep in our bed.”
“Because all I can smell is your cologne and when I wake up I still reach for you. How am I supposed to survive if I keep doing that??”
“Please, Toph,” he begged, and her anger withered away when she heard the pain in his voice.
This was as hard for him as it was for her.
“You were always so much stronger than me,” he cried. “I wouldn’t be able to do what you have to do.
“But this isn’t about you or me. You have to do it all for Lin.”
“Everyone always says that,” she replied bitterly.
“Will you do it for me, then? Will you hold our baby girl when she cries at night and rock her to sleep?” he asked. “Please? I just—I hate seeing you this way over me.”
“Yeah.” Her voice caught in her throat as she attempted to laugh. “I’m a sap and it’s all your fault.”
She heard him choke out a laugh too, and the wind rushed into her.
He was so close, just a little bit further, and perhaps she’d feel his forehead against hers.
“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself and Lin,” Kanto said, his voice as intoxicating as she remembered. Her resolve disappeared with every word he spoke.
Toph let out a tired sigh as her fingers continued to dance with the breeze. “I was never able to say no to you.”
“I know."
She actually smiled. A small, weary smile, but it was nice to hear him say that again, to remember all the different things that phrase meant to each other.
The smile faded as quickly as it came when Kanto spoke again. “Toph, we’re running out of time.”
Her stomach dropped and tied itself into a thousand knots. “No,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Please, not yet.”
“We don’t get to choose. Please, Toph, you have to say it.”
“Say what?”
“You know. You have to say good—”
Toph’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head vehemently. “No! I don’t want to!”
“I know, but I’d hate myself if you lived with this regret.”
“Everything about that day I regret!” she shouted. “I should’ve told you I love you more! Made you stay at home! Or I should’ve gone to work with you! Anything that would’ve changed the outcome.”
“It wouldn’t have changed, we can’t mess with fate, babe.
“Just… do this for me. Say it all to let me go on some level. Say it before you can’t. I don’t have much time.”
“Kanto please—”
“Toph,” he interrupted urgently. “If there’s anything you want to say, now’s your chance.”
Spirits, where would she begin? She lived the last two years of her life in agony over it all, the fact that she couldn’t save him, the fact that she didn’t show him how much she loved him, the fact that she was failing as a mother when he was the very best father, all of it broke her each and every day.
There were fleeting thoughts of regret for even falling in love with him. That this wouldn’t be an issue had she just kept it professional, and she hated she even thought that way. Because without them, there wouldn’t be Lin, and even though it pained Toph to recognize Kanto in Lin, she was Toph’s everything. The earth beneath her feet, her foundation, her whole world.
She hated that she wished she was dead instead, that Kanto and Lin would’ve been better without her, or perhaps, in a deep, dark, part of her heart, she wondered what she would’ve done if Lin wasn’t in the picture… Would she even be alive?
What if she had gotten to say goodbye to him on that day? Would all of this have been easier? Toph doubted it, but what was she to do but ponder all the scenarios that told her she was living her current life wrong. That if she was stronger or smarter or more empathetic, none of this would be happening.
She resented every single “what if” that crossed her mind, because none of it mattered.
All that mattered was now. The present.
There was a rustling of leaves behind her, and his presence in the wind flickered for a moment.
They really were running out of time. Again.
“Kanto, I—I love you,” she cried out.
“I know, I love you too,” he replied quietly. Too quietly.
“Please, I just want more—I don’t know how to do this without you!”
“You’ve got your friends, your family. You have Sokka—”
“But they’re not you! I want you! You need to see Lin walk and earthbend and she does this thing when she’s mad that’s just like you—”
The rustling was getting closer.
“Toph—”
“Kanto—”
Her concentration broke for a second, because she recognized the footsteps.
“Toph!”
He was faint, so faint.
“Kanto! I—” she hesitated when Zuko broke through the vines.
The wind began to move away from her, and she ran after it. And with every last ounce of strength and breath she had, she reached out for Kanto one last time and said,
“Goodbye.”
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stitch1830 · 3 years
Note
Stitcheringoni, hey! Long time, no speak!
How’re 13, 33, and 35 for the fic writing ask? 👀
Twinkles! :D Hello, and thank you for the ask :)
13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?
Oh lordy, I don't know! Probably to just write when you feel like it and as long as you enjoy it? I'm not sure! I just write for the heck of it and because it's fun to see a story written out. But I can't say I've really thought of the structure or how I actually write, so.... Idk. I'm so sorry I don't have a better answer, LMAO. I just write and post and that's it 0_o
33. How do you feel about crack?
I'm sorry Twinkles I don't do drugs.
Crack fics are great very interesting works of art LMAO
35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?
Umm..... Yeus.
I've sadly done it a lot with bestie Kanto, but... I've killed off other characters..... 0-0
I really like exploring how others feel when someone they love or care about passes away. It's interesting to explore how they deal with grief, and what people do to learn to live without their loved one.
Thank you for the ask, Twinkles! These were fun :)
......
Send me asks about writing!
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