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#and then after said fanfic my writing motivation crashed and burned and for a while i felt lost with it
lordsardine · 2 months
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jimmygibbsjrrr · 3 years
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I have a lot of thoughts about the Slaters
namely, I've been wonderin why the Fairfield Survivors got thrown off the boat in Death Toll
in this panel of The Sacrifice comic, Francis confirms the fates of three of the rescue vehicles:
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A panel from The Sacrifice: Part 1. Francis is sat in the rescue vehicle from Blood Harvest, speaking to Louis. His dialogue is as follows:
"Louis, I hate to be the one to break this to ya, but we been heading to the safe zone four times now. Helicopter: crashed. Plane: crashed. Boat: kicked us out and left us to die."
/end ID
the chopper from No Mercy was confirmed crashed in Crash Course, and as for the plane from Dead Air, it was pretty easy to guess (and would have been confirmed in the cut campaign Dam It).
but the part about the boat? that's the Slaters' boat from Death Toll. this is the first time we learn this information.
so...why? what happened?
(more under the cut, ended up writing wayyyy more than I expected over these past few days and don't wanna clog people's dashes lol)
so. let's take a quick dive into the last chapter of Death Toll, to see what we can discern about the Slaters from their dialogue.
the rescue vehicle in Death Toll is a civilian boat, Saint Lidia II, owned by John and Amanda Slater, a married couple. Amanda is never heard in-game, but John's reactions to her can be heard over the radio.
the Slaters are explicitly looking for "anyone out there with firearms". John later adds that "once you get on this boat? Your job is keeping our asses alive". it appears that their motivation for saving the Survivors is selfish from the get-go.
this is undoubtedly true in Amanda's case, however, some of John's lines betray a more selfless attitude. he will berate Amanda for not "think[ing] about the little guy". he will ask, "So what, then? We leave 'em to die? I can't do that, Amanda." whilst Amanda is thinking purely of their own survival, John still feels compassionate towards his fellow survivors. despite this, he says that "I don't want our first act of kindness to be our last", acknowledging the conflict between his compassion and his self-preservation.
so. these are the Survivor's saviours in Death Toll. a conflicted married couple looking for bodyguards, offering to take the Survivors upriver to a military safe zone in exchange for protection.
as for why they get thrown off the boat...well, the easiest explanation would be Amanda.
but, stay with me here, because I think it's a little more complicated than that.
this boat? fulla tension. there's the obvious tension between the Slaters, who we've established seem to fight and disagree regularly. then there's the inevitable tension between them and the Survivors. I reckon Louis, with his generally positive and friendly attitude, wouldn't have much of a problem with them, might even attempt some friendly conversation or something. however, he's about the only one.
the comic fully establishes Bill as caring about nobody except the Fairfield Survivors - the most obvious evidence of this being the words he lives and dies by, "we look after our own". he isn't particularly interested in other people, unless they can help the group out. and he'd likely recognise the unstable and conditional nature of their rescue. while I'm sure he'd try and keep the peace, in any reasonable disagreement or fight Bill's likely to take his friends' side, and if anyone's getting thrown off the boat Bill is going with them. this goes for the whole group, to be honest; I don't think they'd want to split up at this point.
Francis hates boats, hates water, and can't swim, so (and I'm getting a little speculate-y here) would probably be in an even sourer mood than usual on the journey. being as abrasive as he is, plus this additional stress, it's fully possible he could piss off the Slaters enough to get himself (or all of them) thrown off the boat.
as for Zoey? well, I don't imagine a married couple who constantly argues is gonna sit well with her, considering her backstory. similarly to Francis, the situation they're in would make her far more stressed, making it more likely for her to lash out.
Amanda didn't want to save the Survivors in the first place, so while I think that John wouldn't throw them off the boat without reason, I reckon she could persuade him to throw them off if they 'caused trouble' - and they would get into an argument with her far easier than they would with John.
in short: yeah, I can see them getting thrown off the boat by the Slaters after some huge fight or disagreement. I think that's a reasonable interpretation of canon, and definitely an interesting concept.
...however, I do wonder if this tension would really be enough to destabilise their mutual need, after everything they went through to come together.
which is why I'm going to bring up The Last Stand!
I gotta quickly address something before this segment: yeah, I'm totally aware this campaign isn't canon. this evidence works with the fact that it exists in an 'alternate timeline'. also, I am missing a few citations for this section - if anyone can provide them I'd really appreciate it, but just a disclaimer that I currently can't prove some of the things the wiki claims members of the Last Stand Community Update Team have said. here and here are the wiki pages where I got this information. in short - the above explanation is simpler and more canon compliant, the conclusion I draw at the end of this post is backed by shakier evidence but I believe is more interesting, and you can make of all that what you will.
allegedly, members of the Last Stand Community Update Team confirmed a strongly-suspected fan theory about The Last Stand: that it branches off from Death Toll in some way, in a non-canon alternative timeline. as well as this, they allegedly confirmed that in this alternative timeline, the Survivors still end up in Newburg for Dead Air. even without the confirmation, this remains a solid fan theory, due to the constant references to Riverside and re-use of many of Death Toll's assets.
who rescues the Survivors in The Last Stand? John Slater. no Amanda - just John. despite her lack of voice actress, if she was still present John would give some indication of this at some point. it can be speculated that whatever happened to her contributed to the lack of rescue at the boathouse that forced the Survivors to take an alternative route. either way, he ends up at the lighthouse when the Survivors call for rescue, alone, and picks them up.
and then later...throws them off the boat. into Newburg.
what reason would John have to do that? without Amanda, surely he wouldn't have that push, as he wanted to rescue the Survivors for multiple reasons in the first place. without his constant arguments with Amanda, Zoey wouldn't be nearly as stressed. and between the three of them I'm sure the other Fairfield Survivors would stop Francis from pissing John off enough to get them thrown off the boat. in short, less Amanda = less tension, and no reason for the Survivors getting chucked off the boat.
...right?
I'd like to remind you that a symptom of the Infection is paranoia.
what if, in both The Last Stand and Death Toll, John and Amanda are infected by the Survivors on the way to the military safe zone? after all, the virus is confirmed to occasionally be airborne, and I doubt two civilians have completely effective, sustained protection against that. likely the only reason they hadn't already been Infected is because they got out on the water early on in the pandemic, and hadn't come into contact with anyone else since. it's unlikely that one of them is immune, and even more unlikely that they're both immune (especially considering those with XX chromosomes may be genetically less likely to be carriers). wouldn't Francis have mentioned it if their rescuers turned or were obviously Infected? yes, but it's possible that the airborne strain works slower as well, meaning that the Survivors are thrown off of the boat after the symptoms kick in but before the Slaters fully turn. even Church Guy had at least an hour from being Infected to turning, and he was bitten. Newburg isn't too far from where the Survivors are rescued in Death Toll anyway (the burning city in the background of the finale is Newburg), so the Survivors clearly didn't last long on the boat anyway. as a result, the Survivors wouldn't realise it was the Infection intensifying the Slaters' paranoia - they'd just think the Slaters were being dicks. Francis also explicitly mentions that they were "left to die", implying negativity or even hostility from the Slaters as the Survivors were being thrown off.
so yeah. that's why I think they got thrown off of the boat in Death Toll - a combination of the intense tension between the two parties, and the Slaters falling victim to Infection-induced paranoia. but an explanation minus the Infection is equally as plausible. it all depends on what you find most interesting, I suppose, and both feel like they fit pretty well into the world.
lord this is a long chunk o text. I know most fandoms prefer art and fanfic over this sorta thing, so please let me know in replies or something if you're interested in more stuff like this. also if any of this makes sense because I like to ramble.
oh and if you'd like to use any of my interpretations in fanworks like art or fic, I'd love to see it :)
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drethanramslay · 4 years
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26, 58 and 61 for ethan x mc please? like angst in the beginning but fluff in the end. thanks!! i love your fanfics btw i read it like 100 times and i can’t seem to get over it.
Aww thanks anon ☺️ and thank you for the ask ❤️❤️
You can find the prompt list here.
#26-“Are you angry…?”
#58-“Where have you been?!” 
#61-“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have done that, you can look after yourself…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” this prompt is in the form of a text message 
Author's note: okay anon I know you wanted a fluffy ending BUT, I decided to write it as a continuation to Hard for me i.e the prompt in which people demanded asked for a part 2
So forgive me for the ending
Word count: 1.2K
Warning: none, it's just angsty as hell
Cry for me
The next one week was painful. 
Ethan's confession in the lift had left Leah in a flux of emotions. On one hand she was joyous that he returned her feelings and that he was all in.
But on the other hand she felt gut wrenching guilt which slowly started eating away at her sanity. She was in a relationship with Bryce. She had a freaking boyfriend but that still didn't stop her from pining for Ethan.
She was so lost in her thoughts half the times, zoning in and out of conversations. Bryce could see something bothering her so he slowly formulating a plan to cheer her up.
"Hey Princess?" Bryce asked as they drove to the hospital.
Leah snapped her head towards Bryce. "Yeah?"
“Are you angry…? Did I do something wrong?"
"Of course not, queen B!" I am angry with myself and the world.
"I just... Can't see you so down and lost. You know you can talk to me, right?"
I don't think I can talk about how I am completely and utterly in love with my boss and the fact that he returns the sentiments.
"Yap I know. It's just been a stressful week, y'know?"
"What if we have a movie night today?  We can eat junk food and laugh on trashy movies?" Bryce spoke up as they got out of the car.
"That's exactly the thing I need. Thank you Bryce." Leah smiled at him and wrapped her arm around his waist, giving him a side hug.
Bryce gave her a breathtaking smile and wrapped his arms around her. "Anything for you Leah."
As they stood there, with their arms around each other in the parking lot, Leah failed to notice a pair of stormy blue eyes burning into her back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- After changing into her scrubs and grabbing a coffee from the coffee cart, Leah made her way towards Ethan's office. June and Baz were sitting and drinking coffee, pouring over the charts while Ethan wrote on the whiteboard.
"Good morning team." Leah greeted them with a smile.
"Good morning, Leah!"
"Good morning, Dr. Garcia."
"You are late. Where have you been?"
Leah's eyes snapped to the clock above the whiteboard.
8:00 am.
"I was getting the charts. And I am not late. We start the meeting at 8am." Leah said as she placed her laptop and coffee on the table.
"Dr. Garcia, this is not your 9 to 5 corporate job where you enter and leave at a given time. You are a doctor and time should cease to exist because our patient's life is in the palm of our hands. Every minute you spend wasting time, that much is cut from our patient's life. Have you forgotten your Hippocrates oath?"
Leah wanted to answer back, but she bit her tongue. NOT worth it Leah, calm down. 
So clenching her jaw and swallowing down the humiliation, she responded in a curt voice. "Yes Doctor."
"Tardiness in not acceptable. Is that clear?" 
Baz interrupted, trying to diffuse the situation. "Ethan she wasn't even that lat-"
Cutting Baz off, his icy eyes bored into her angry hazel ones. "Dr. Garcia, am I clear?"
"Crystal." Leah spoke up, glaring at Ethan.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- And that's how the entire day continued. When working the case they were like a well oiled machine but outside in the hallways, they would glare at each other as if they wanted to kill each other.
The tension between Ethan was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. They butted heads throughout the duration of the shift that even the staff noticed.
Leah felt like a ticking time bomb, threatening to explode. Anger, frustration and pain is a very dangerous cocktail together, and now she had all of them whirling inside her like a tornado.
I'm gonna fucking confront him. That son of a bitch has it coming. Leah thought to herself, her teeth grinding.
So when she saw Ethan head towards the stairwell, she followed him.
"Dr. Ramsey, wait up."
"If it isn't patient related, don't bother me."
Leah rushed after him and grabbed him by his elbow with incredible strength, causing him to stop and turn towards her.
"What has gotten over you Ethan?"
"I don't know what you are talking about." He crossed his arms and stood there, towering over her.
"You are a smart guy. Acting dumb doesn't suit you. Now, let's try again, what has happened that has made you so pissed with me?"
"Rookie, I'm not mad at you."
"Yes you are!! You said Rookie in B flat and that only happens when I have royally pissed you off. And last time I checked I haven't done anything wrong-"
"What you did wrong, was crash into my life. What you did wrong, was try to cheer me up on a bad day. What you did wrong, was comfort me in my pain. What you did wrong was have faith in me when I was in doubt. What you did wrong, was make me fall for you."
Leah's jaw dropped. What sort of backhanded compliment was that? Clearing her throat and squashing the butterflies in her stomach, she spoke. "Ethan you can't say things like this to me."
"Why not? It's the truth. I like you way too much for my liking." He said in a low voice.
Leah threw her hands in the air. "Because, I am in a freaking relationship! You had your chance and you blew it. Don't Gove me mixed feelings now."
"I-"
"No now you will listen. You pushed me away. You said that you wanted space. You wanted my professional development. You wanted things to go back to normal. This is the new normal, okay? Accept it."
For a first time in a very long time, he looked helpless and guilty. "I was so wrong sunshine..."
Leah stuffed her hands in her coat and looked down at her lavender converse. She was at a complete loss of words. If things would have been easier she would have kissed him and hugged the sadness out of him.
But life is complicated. And everything has a price.
"So that's it huh? So..." Gulping Ethan continued, "You are over me?"
Silence.
Her brain was screaming at her to say yes and to move on from the angsty and painful chapter of her life. But she could not get herself to say it.
"If things were not as fucked up as they were... Do you think we would be a thing?"
Sighing she patted his arm. "I think you are smart enough to figure that out."
Leah side stepped him and climbed down the steps and opened the door of the stairwell to find Bryce standing there, a deer caught in the headlight expression on his face.
Leah greeted him, curiosity laced in her voice. "H..hey?" 
Bryce immediately turned and started walking away fast.
"Bryce wait up."
This is some deja vu.
Bryce stopped and turned towards her, pain shining in his eyes. "Is it true?"
"What?"
"That you have feelings for Dr. Ramsey."
Shit shit shit. An alarm went on in her brain which caused her to freeze up.
"I-" Leah started but she was interrupted.
"I heard everything."
Leah took a deep breath. Cat’s out of the bag. No point denying it. "Please don't jump to conclusions. I-" her pager beeped, signalling that a VIP patient had arrived and she sighed.
"I need to go now. I will talk to you tonight. Please don't do anything rash. I beg you."
Without saying a word, Bryce shrugged and walked away.
Why is does it feel like the two important men of my life walked away from me in a span of 2 minutes?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was nine in the night and Leah was finally done with her rounds. Wearing her jeans and jumper, she tied her hair long black locks into a messy bun and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Letting out a breath, she gave herself a pep talk. Okay Leah... You have to make a decision. You are not Hannah Montana. You can't have the best of both worl-
Her phone pinged, interrupting her. She picked it up to see that it was a text from Ethan. 
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Letting out a sigh, she picked up her messenger bag and walked out of the hospital, only one thing running in her head.
Who do I listen to? My head thats telling me that Ethan will hurt me again and that Bryce is better? Or my heart which tells me that Ethan is my one shot at true love?
It was painful to write this 
Also the last part got 88 notes so lets get this to 90 notes so that I have motivation to write part 3 heheheheh 
what do you think will happen in the next part?
ALSO GIVE ME SUGGESTIONS FOR WHAT I SHOULD NAME THIS SERIES
I love you guys 
Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @dailydoseofchoices @tyrilstouch @siaramsey @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie @junggoku  @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine @crazynutella @hatescapsicum @anonymously-cool @nooruleman @sanvivrma
Ethan x MC Taglist: @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @pixelberryownsme @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey  @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @squishywizardhq  @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @itsgoingnuts  @choicesfanaf @humanpokemon @temptress-of-death-and-desire @rookiefromedenbrook @courtesanofedenbrook  @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter  @fabi-en-ciel @mrsdrakewalkerblog @elwetritsche75  @livingpurpose @drramseysownsme @queencarb @andromedasinclaire @schnitzelbutterfingers @thanialis @floatingmeera @rookieoh @ethanramseyswhore @lucy-268  @big-yikers ​ @have-aheart ​ @whimsicalreader @tsrookie @itschoicesfanaf @lilypills @mals-chesthair @raleigheffingcarrera @utterlyinevitable @choices-fangirl-yeet @rookie-ramsey @papinaveensbitch @custaroonie @helloayzcream @hyperlightgrifter
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novarasalas · 5 years
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Second Look Review: The Grudge
Sigh.
Work sucks. I’m not even checking how long it’s been since I started writing this. So..let’s get to it.
-
Candid Camera
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I 100% love this opening conversation. It’s a weakness of mine in shows and movies: the candid conversation. Just seeing characters interacting with each other, not saying or doing anything to drive the plot forward...it’s great. I wish more media would write things like this. This way, we get a glimpse of the character’s personalities, in both the things they say and how they interact with one another.
Speaking of…
- -
A Bit Awkward
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Acxa: I never has a creature companion, but one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal can't named Kova. That cat gave her the ability to experience the world. 
So far so good...
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Acxa: Until Lotor killed Narti and we had to abandon the animal on our destroyed ship so we could escape without being tracked.
Oh...ok. Yikes, lol?
To be honest...I wasn’t expecting her to be quite so awkward. But then I remember that we haven’t seen much of her when she wasn’t antagonizing the team.
And thus I reiterate: I love candid conversations like this.
Later, we get an awkward reprisal.
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Leifsdottir: It would appear the mood at this table has become rather awkward. Most likely due to your Galra lineage.
Oh look...there’s two of them.
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Tag yourself! I’m James.
Do scenes like this get to anyone else? It’s like seeing two aspects of my social awkwardness given form. 
- - -
Let Me Love You
I love watching friendships happen. 
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Acxa: I know you have little trust for me, but your constant presence is tiresome.
How cute…
I meant it when I said watching her was like seeing my own brand of awkward. I don’t know how many potential friends I’ve scared off by being like this. The only friends I have now are the ones that have the patience of saints. 
I’m grateful to them. 
As I’m sure Acxa is to Veronica, even if we never really see it.
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Also, this right here?
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Veronica: Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you.
Acxa: By sneaking up on me at a firing range?
Veronica: I didn’t sneak up on you.
Acxa: Only because I’m always aware of my surroundings.
Really now?
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*Marcia Brady voice* Sure, Acxa.
- - - -
Sword Play
I’ve been thinking about this one for a bit.
It starts with Keith pulling his signature move
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After, Lance says this:
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Lance: Huh, good job, Keith. I mean, I was just about to do that, too, but that’s cool.
What was he about to do?
The cool “throw your sword, totally disarming yourself” move, of course!
Keith is annoyed, not confused. This means that he knows that Lance has a sword. We never get to see that moment in the show...which is why I had to write it myself. Check my “voltron fanfic” tag, “fic: study it out” tag,  or the first comment on this post for the fic link.
I’m also on AO3 with the same user name.
..yeah, that’s a self plug. I’m not ashamed.
- - - - - 
The Bad and The Ugly
This is probably what’s really kept me dragging my feet on this for so long. 
So, the real story of this episode is that Ezor has left Zethrid cause she’s a total rage-filled maniac, and she wants nothing to do with that life anymore.
Zethrid, being a total rage-filled maniac, fails to engage in introspection, and blames Keith for this. For some reason.
She tries to kill Keith while Acxa tries to talk her down. End the end, she’s only stopped when Veronica, Acxa’s new best friend, shoots her.
It’s fine, though. Ezor comes back to her, willing to forgive her for...things.
Roll credits.
…..does that seem right? It certainly didn’t to a lot of people.
Me included.
The idea is that Ezor was, narratively, dead. The idea continues that the backlash from having
1. Some of the gay rep being a villain pair, and 
2. One in that pair being killed off, 
scared them into retconning Ezor’s death, hastilty re-recording lines and adding shoddy animation to “fix” it. 
I’m not at this point here to point fingers and blame persons for this supposed change. I just want to talk about why I think that it was changed.
It’s mostly because of this, at first:
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Zethrid: Now you will feel what I felt.
Some argued that she was saying this to Shiro, who was, ya know...there. But she’s saying it to Acxa. 
Here:
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Ezor: She’s always been sweet on that one with the flippity hair.
You just know they’ve teased Acxa about this before. And that’s the thing.
Zethrid believes that Acxa is in love with Keith, and that’s why she’s going to kill him, so that she feels the same grief that she feels. 
Ya know..cause she loved Ezor, and Ezor’s dead now.
I can’t pinpoint what all has been changed, when it was changed, or how. 
But am I supposed to believe that Zethrid would take a break up this badly? Am I supposed to believe that Ezor, having left Zethrid because of her rage and anger, would watch her try to kill someone over said break up...and then take her back?
Nah. I don’t.
And it’s not that I want Ezor to be dead. I want the story to make sense.
There’s other evidence, visually.
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Ezor here is unfinished. The lines are uneven and the shadows on her are almost non existent. Maybe it wouldn’t have looked so bad had she not been placed next to Acxa, who was always in this scene. But as it is, she’s very flat. 
This continues into the next episode.
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Veronica: Zethrid and the Olkari have escaped their cells.
Only two indicators are shown. An argument could be made that they didn’t consider Ezor a threat.
But add to all this the fact that Ezor’s one spoken line ended up being a pitched up clip of Allura saying “no”, while Zethrid’s response of “trust me” was taken from S7...it’s all too much.
However, at the same time, I don’t want to dwell on this. It’s conspiracy and conjecture at this point. We’ll never know what really happened. There will never be a director's cut. They’ll never release extra footage. This is what we got.
In any case, the fact remains that the whole thing was jarring and seemed very out of place. The writing and story hasn't been the greatest to this point, but this marked the episode where the plot began to lose me. From this point on, I spend an inordinate amount of time watching and thinking “...um??”
It’s a bad feeling.
Also, Shiro? Baby?
Any thoughts?
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...fair enough.
----------------
In Summary:
This episode started out wonderfully before it crashed and burned. The opening character interactions gave way to questionable character motivations.
If, as suspected, this plot point was changed because of outside pressure...well…
It’s an odd thing for it to happen during production like this. In my years, I’ve never really seen it happen like this before. There’s no way to fix something like this without the end result looking sloppy.
Also, as someone that creates stories, I don’t have a great feeling about this. There’s this idea now that if something isn’t perfect, you must shout it down until someone changes it, or make the thing go away completely. 
I personally would have felt better if they’d stood by the story they’d created. After the fact, we can talk about things gone wrong, the mistakes that were made, and how the story might’ve been made better, all in retrospect.
To do anything else, in my opinion, shows a lack of integrity.*
*but what is integrity when there’s corporations and money involved, really?
Next up: 
Yeah...so….this is where we’re going with this?
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darkcivet · 6 years
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Of Unsound Mind
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A GaaSaku Fanfic
Alternate Links: FF.net & AO3. Pairing: Sakura/Gaara. Summary: It's only when her life has crumbled down around her that Sakura finally finds some kind of peace. GaaSaku. Modern AU. Rated M just in case. Warning: Psychologically dark elements. (No blood or gore.) Sexual themes.
There were many words used to describe Sakura Haruno during her fall from grace.
Anti-social. Cynical. Violent. Bossy. Obnoxious. Friendless.
And those were the friendly examples.
There was also, whore, bitch, psycho, tight-arse, freak, and various interpretations of the hysterical woman stereotype.
It was depressing enough to be called these names, and more heart breaking to embody them. But the worst part was that they came from people she’d never have suspected. From people she loved and had trusted for years. Some hadn’t even waited until her anger had reached its crescendo before writing her off.
She’d lost her cushy office, her friends, her aghast family, and all hope of returning to her former life; Sakura was at least grateful that her OCD meant she had a decent amount of money saved up for this seemingly unending rainy day.
It was in moments like this, that she took pride in her tight-arse ways. It was a cold slap in the face in the wake of the reality of her responsibility to clean up her mess.
And somehow, sitting on a chair, next to others arranged in a dysfunctional, sparsely spaced circle and being lectured on the meaning of her anger issues did not strike her as particularly constructive. But Sakura had no intention of reacquainting herself with her inner demons, so she had to try to put it behind her.
For years, she’d built a damn in her mind to keep her inner, sanctimonious persona quiet, but it had all come crashing down several months ago when she’d been tossed aside for a more available girlfriend. A seemingly innocuous event that many others went through and came out the other end unbroken, but not Sakura Haruno. She snapped like a proverbially twig over a roaring fire. It was like letting a beast out of a cage that had been perfectly crafted to contain it. White hot rage; she had no control of herself, and for a short while, all Sakura knew was the burning, angry harpy that lay within her mind.
The need to make someone bleed for it.
Now, she had no-one. No friends. No family. No glimmer of a hopeful future. Her inner had driven them all away.
That was why she was here of all places. A group anger management session; the judge had been clear that evading these weekly torture sessions would land her back in Konoha Psychiatric Hospital. She couldn’t go back there. Everyone there was crazy. It would drive her insane.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
Doctor Kato – possibly the hospital’s most likeable tight-arse. She was always friendly enough to Sakura, but the pinkette could never fully respect someone who played by the rules so religiously. Squashing herself inside a tin can and answering, “how high?” whenever her superiors said, “jump”. It boggled the mind.
She sighed, sitting up straight in an effort to not be called out. Again. Today was her first session in a group and this whole anger management thing was just another part of her community service – though the question of who she was supposed to be helping right now, was anyone’s guess.
She forced herself to listen as Shizune Kato started her morning sermon.
“Anger management is the process of learning to recognise your anger for what it is and control it. Anger is an emotion we use to mask feelings of fear, inadequacy, guilt, confusion, depression, hurt, or loneliness. It is not uncommon for us to fall into this trap when we feel too helpless to do anything else.”
Sakura rolled her eyes and regressed to slouching in her chair. Shizune tended to drone on about the definition of things. As both a Clinical Psychologist and a nationally recognised motivational speaker, she was the enemy of succinctness
Sakura smiled at that.
She’d been acquainted with the brunette for years, but never truly known her. Despite her pleasant yet oddball nature, Shizune wasn’t the most charming person Sakura had ever met, especially one-on-one. They’d both been mentored by the great Lady Tsunade Senju – an actually motivational person who didn’t like to get up on podiums and talk about it.
Sakura interned with Tsunade straight out of high school; she’d been interested in psychology for years, because of her inner, fascinated with the inner workings of the human mind. Keeping her inner quiet helped her pass as “normal”, but she always got the impression that Tsunade knew her favourite protégé had issues.
Their bi-weekly “let’s build a snowman” sessions were a dead giveaway.
“Sakura?”
The pinkette snapped out of her internal musings and rattled off a few facts about herself while keeping it impersonal. Shizune gave her an odd look and Sakura sat up straight again, suddenly self-conscious.
But she couldn’t help but lose focus again as the brunette pointed to each of her patients in turn, asking for introductions. Even though this was her first group session, she knew some of these people anyway, from her time in hospital. There was the girl who’d run over her boyfriend when she found out she was pregnant. The older man who beat up the teenage boy who was screwing his trophy wife. Another girl who blamed God for her voices and repeatedly stole from and trashed her family Church. Not to mention the guy who attacked a mime because he wouldn’t give him directions.
Some Sakura knew only by face, but it was a safe bet they were all violent in some way.
But there was this one guy that everyone seemed to be giving a wide berth. He had this dark aura around him, like a solid barrier made of hate and bloodlust. His blood red hair seemed to finish off the look of death and wrath nicely. Not to mention that he was the only person she’d ever seen with a kanji tattoo on their forehead of all places.
“Gaara?”
Sakura watched the others suddenly become uninterested; she imagined Shizune only called on him because those were the rules.
The redhead grunted out his name and something inaudible; she caught the words, “temper”, “family”, and “fucking”. Shizune didn’t press any further.
Sakura couldn’t take her eyes off Gaara as the introductions continued – some clearly more enthusiastic than others.
Based on appearance alone, she gathered he fit into the goth stereotype, but she’d never been much of a profiler. Her field of study was psychiatric rehabilitation and Sakura had just been promoted before her life went to shit. She was rising fast for someone her age. And enjoying the perks that came with a higher paying job.
‘I miss my office.’
She blinked heavily as Shizune started talking again.
Gaara swivelled in his chair suddenly and unintentionally caught Sakura’s eye. Though clearly startled by her attention on him, he didn’t look away. She felt her face warm under his stare. She’d heard that, during his first therapy session, he threw a chair out the window and broke the psychiatrist’s teeth when the man had tried said “hello”. They said the shrink needed counselling after that. Though plausible, she highly doubted that had happened – he wouldn’t have been considered for group sessions, if he was that easy to rile up, surely.
“Who wants to talk about why they’re here, first?”
Shizune’s voice snapped Sakura to reality and she tore her eyes away from Gaara to listen to the pregnant girl whine about men and how unfairly the “quacks” had been treating her, but she could still feel his eyes burning a hole in her.
His dark aura shifted, and he seemed a bit content then, to Sakura. She chanced a look at him; he didn’t look ready to kill her. His reputation had to be wrong, then. She had to remind herself how easily rumours could get out of hand.
Unlike her therapy companions, Sakura had a degree in psychology. She had a many great deal of things that were no longer important anymore. Like people in her life.
“Sakura?”
She mentally cursed herself for not paying attention and sat up straight, realising she’d slumped again. “Y-yeah.”
Shizune smiled at her. “Why don’t you share something more in depth with the group.”
She wasn’t here for her health, that’s for sure.
Sakura cleared her throat, avoiding Gaara’s gaze; it was getting unnerving. “Um. I’m doing these sessions as part of my community service.” At Shizune’s insistent look, she added, “I... uh, had a breakdown.”
“That blows.” One of the girls gave her a sympathetic look.
Sakura just stared back at her. The old her would’ve smiled back and maybe engaged her in conversation; the new and improving version didn’t have the energy for that shit.
“Moving on.”
Shizune rounded off the session and they started to file out. Sakura noticed that Gaara wasn’t asked to add anything more in depth. She sighed and stood, stretching out her muscles and keeping her attention settled solely on herself; a certain redhead was still staring.
“Same time next week!” Shizune called.
Sakura hurried out, unwilling to remain under such close scrutiny any longer.
This group therapy thing was going to be exhausting.
 .:.
 “Got a light?”
Two weeks later, Sakura decided to bite the proverbially bullet. He’d been staring at her on and off, and she had finally worked up the nerve to approach him. In between bouts of self-loathing and therapeutic jogs along the beach, she’d been keeping up-to-date in the world of mental health. Call her an optimist, but she figured it would help her get back into it once all this community service was over.
It beat picking up rubbish – that was on her morning schedule.
Gaara was Shizune’s problem case, but Sakura wanted to reach out to him. She wanted to see if anything she did or said could make a difference. This would go a long way to seeing if she still had what it takes to be a Psychologist. Obviously, it would be in a non-professional capacity, so she couldn’t be reprimanded for it.
In her planning stages, Sakura noticed he took the time to smoke both before and after the sessions, like he was bolstering himself for battle and then rewarding himself for not annihilating everyone. That was a start. So, she used their common ground to start a dialogue.
Without removing the cigarette from his mouth, he looked up at her question, stared at her for a second, and then nodded his head. She swore to herself up and down that she would quit these disgusting things one day. But that day was not today.
He tossed a red lighter at her and grunted out, “this is going to kill you. You should give it up.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes until after he turned away. “I will if you do.”
He didn’t respond.
They’d just spent an hour in a gruelling session, so he clearly needed to unwind.
Sakura took a seat two feet from him, overlooking staff parking; they were far enough away from the front doors of the hospital to not be called out, but she somehow figured Gaara was less concerned with that rule and more concerned with solitude.
She stayed quiet, settling in and lighting up. He didn’t ask for the lighter back straight away and she waited until she was ready to leave before returning it. Gaara’s pale fingers stretched out to grasp it, and she made a note of how he deliberately avoided her touch, before standing to leave.
Slow and steady; she didn’t want to startle him. It was a good start. His moods during the sessions was always dark, but some days he was clearly holding on by a thread. For all the darkness and chaos that stormed inside Sakura’s head, she had a feeling what he kept bottled up inside was worse.
 .:.
 The following week, Sakura beat Gaara to his usual smoking spot, prior to their weekly torture session. She didn’t light up during the six days they had off and felt no urge to do so until she drove into the Konoha Hospital parking lot and remembered what she was about to do.
Yeah, the dark aura around Gaara still intimidated her. And the mindless prattling of her fellow therapy inmates made her want to slap their heads together and tell them to grow up. The redhead continued to stare at her during the sessions and then ignore her when they fell into silent, mutual cancer inducing stupors. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help herself.
One month on from their first interaction, she decided to finally break their monotony of silence.
And then chickened out when his head snapped around and he stared at her, suddenly, like he knew it was coming. Jade orbs stared blankly at her and she summoned her courage, mentally berating herself. She’d come this far.
“I was thinking...” Sakura drifted off; his eyes widened, and lips twitched. The cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth jerked with the movement. “...of smoking something a little stronger next week.”
He blinked slowly, almost owlishly, and then looked away from her. She almost continued talking several times, waiting for him to respond.
“Don’t do that.”
“I just–”
“You’ll just get sent back to the loony bin.”
And that was the end of that.
Sakura felt herself flush with anger; she wanted to rant and rage at him, tell him he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing instead. It wasn’t her intention to fly off the handle at him. She just needed to focus. The object of her rush of anger sat quietly as she calmed herself.
And just like that, she was calm again. She sighed, put out her cigarette and turned to face him. He was looking back at her, those intense eyes curious; she almost forgot what he’d said to annoy her. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t.”
It took a few seconds to sink in, but before she could formulate a response, he stormed away from her and back toward the front doors. A full ten seconds later, Shizune’s voice drifted over to her and Sakura knew she’d lectured Gaara on the rules involving smoking near government buildings. There was no way, however, that Shizune was brave enough to confiscate them.
Sakura joined them and was both annoyed and confused when Gaara pointedly ignored her for the first time in weeks.
‘Men.’
 .:.
 Sakura arrived early the following Wednesday, and sat in her car, writing in her journal. She wanted to get down everything she was feeling before heading in there – last week, Shizune had suggested this when the pinkette let it slip that she’d almost lost her temper again. She hadn’t had a black out in almost two months. She was getting better.
But Gaara’s attitude was not conducive to her mental health.
The worried look on Shizune’s face bothered Sakura too – she’d figured out that two of her patients were smoking together, outside the hospital and wasn’t amused. That dark aura around Gaara was more powerful than Shizune’s disapproving glare, but the brunette’s made Sakura feel guilty. That was nothing, however, compared to how Sakura was feeling now.
Tsunade’s car was in the lot, today. She was here.
‘Did Shizune go running to shishou about my fascination with Gaara?’
Sakura was torn between annoyance and happiness; it wasn’t their business, but it had been too long since anyone cared if she got herself hurt. Was she supposed to feel angry or comforted? Maybe both? She was a red-faced child wrapped in a warm blanket brandishing a bloody knife with one hand and nursing a cup of hot cocoa with the other.
She wasn’t crazy. She knew she wasn’t. The dark voice inside of her was quiet and she hadn’t lost control in so long. Sakura felt like everything was falling into place. The only hiccup was where Gaara fit into everything. Anyone with eyes could see he was worse off than her – he may never get better – but she didn’t know his history. She didn’t know how bad off he was.
She had to find out, if she had any hope of putting her fascination with him in the proper context.
The tap on her car window startled her, but somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find Gaara’s questioning stare on her; rugged up against the cold, his red hair poking out from under a black beanie, and his breath fogging up her window. She took a moment to truly appreciate how good he looked before he indicated wordlessly behind him – toward their usual smoking spot – and she nodded in acquiescence.
Sakura smiled after he turned to lead the way. It seemed she wasn’t the only one that look forward to these morning rituals.
 .:.
 An hour later, Sakura was trying to sneak glances at Gaara while pretending she wasn’t interested in doing so. Tsunade had taken over the group today, with Shizune nearby taking notes, and the busty blonde was currently questioning Gaara – in a way that no-one else had the balls to do so.
Everyone else normally avoided looking at the emo boy who had a reputation for trying to kill people for looking at him wrong, but today they were staring unabashedly as he was questioned. Like he was an animal in a zoo. His simple, clipped responses delivered in angry undertones that promised pain and retribution didn’t deter Tsunade; his audience was hooked on every word.
When the blonde finally relented, everything went deadly quiet and Sakura found herself alone in watching him. Shizune and Tsunade conferred as the session came to an end and the pinkette forced herself to not get up and follow Gaara as he stormed out.
Murmuring broke out, but she ignored them, making her way over to Tsunade. The blonde hugged her.
“Sakura, it’s been too long.”
She smiled. Her first real smile directed at anyone but Gaara for a while. “Yes, shishou. I’m glad to see you.”
She wanted to question Tsunade – she undoubtedly had information on Gaara that she needed.
Shizune would be against it – that girl had never met a rule she didn’t worship – but Tsunade was the type to indulge her pupils, be they present or past. During her internship with the busty woman, Sakura had often had access to information she wasn’t supposed to know. She trusted her. She knew she wouldn’t repeat anything she read or heard. It was a level of trust Sakura had never had before and was sorely missed in her life.
That “I have no-one” voice in her head was sounding further and further away the longer she felt the warmth of her mentor’s smile on her.
‘How could I ever think shishou would turn on me?’
They both understood mental illness and didn’t judge it.
Tsunade spoke before Sakura had a chance to ask her; that mind reading thing of hers was still annoying, after all these years. “If this is about your sudden interest in a certain redhead, you know I can’t tell you anything.”
A bubble of annoyance swelled in Sakura’s chest, but as her mentor made a show of shuffling her papers, the pinkette forced herself to calm down. Shizune sat nearby, finishing off a few notes; when she was done and left to find something to eat, Tsunade indicated to Sakura to take a seat.
“I want to preface this with I understand,” Tsunade said. “Gaara’s a good-looking boy and you’ve always had a thing for the emotionally closed off type.”
“Shishou–”
“Let me finish.”
Sakura nodded her head, admonished.
The blonde pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’ve been through so much lately and your life has become a black sinkhole. You’re so cut off and confused; you know you are,” she added, when the pinkette huffed in annoyance. “It’s understandable to find comfort in a kindred soul. But Gaara’s different than you. You should be more careful with him.”
Sakura frowned. “Why?”
Tsunade lowered his head to whisper and the pinkette leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s in his file, but you didn’t hear this from me.”
Sakura nodded; her heart pounding in her chest. Doctor-patient confidentiality was still a thing between doctors, but Tsunade loosening her tongue was motivated purely on a personal level. She’d always thought of Sakura as the daughter she never had.
“What he has is a touch disorder; his anger manifests similar to an extreme case of Skin Hunger.”
Sakura nodded, understanding. Skin Hunger was a yearning to touch, basically; if Gaara’s anger was connected to this, she assumed it meant he lashed out when touched. All awhile craving that touch.
It was interesting.
“Don’t set yourself up for failure with him.”
Sakura frowned. “What do you mean?”
“All I’m saying is that whether your interest is professional or personal, don’t get your hopes up. So far, all observable outcomes from people trying to get close to him have resulted in some form of violence.”
“I already understood: you’re saying he always attacks people who touch him.”
“Or it manifests itself sexually.”
Her eyes widened. She didn’t need to know that part.
Sakura was already checking Gaara out every time he passed in her field of vision. She didn’t need to know that an accidental touch on her part could end with her flat on her back and screaming his name.
She was definitely going to make a point of not touching him.
“He is not a rapist, Sakura, I assure you.” Again, Tsunade was reading her mind. “I spent six months working with him after I was asked to profile him; he’s capable of a great many things, but he isn’t capable of that.”
‘No... he’s not going to force me.’
Sakura knew that, despite her initial concern. He was the type to make her want it. Badly.
‘He already has.’
She closed her eyes for a second, just absorbing everything Tsunade had told her. Her attraction to the redhead had started without her really noticing and escalating into full-blown, make-out session with herself.
It gave her goose bumps and made her never want to go to bed fully clothed again. And strangely, gave her a desperate craving for cheese and ice-cream.
It boggled the mind.
“Then why is he here, among people?” Sakura realised the answer the moment she’d finished asking but had to hear it.
“This is the only thing keeping him out of jail.”
Anger management for most people was a program with steps and slogans and learning about yourself.
And that annoying prayer circle thing.
For people like Gaara, it was avoiding the worst-case scenario of getting locked up and never seeing the light of day again. She felt sorry for him, though she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate it.
Sakura was torn between continuing her curiosity driven desire to crack him open and give him his space, so he could get through these sessions untouched. She really wanted to pick his brain.
(Must be the therapist in her.)
“Lady Tsunade!”
“That’s my cue.” Tsunade hugged her former apprentice. “Just be careful, Sakura.”
“I will. I promise.”
Sakura stayed in the chair for a few minutes before remembering she was technically standing Gaara up and rushed out to find him. He was leaning against the building, his hands in his pockets, eyes closed, and no cigarette to be found.
She hesitated to disturb him, but as her feet carried her over to the enigmatic redhead, he seemed to come to life and turned to face her. The look he gave her was new; she wasn’t sure if it was calculating or distrustful.
Had he heard her conversation with Tsunade? No... he’d have been too far away, and they were whispering. But her shishou had questioned him pretty intensely and Sakura stayed behind to talk with her afterward. Perhaps he just put two and two together. Her mind went back to what Tsunade had said about being his therapist for a while.
‘They already know each other.’
Maybe he wasn’t as bothered by the questioning as she’d thought.
“I’m not a good person,” he said gruffly. “But I won’t hurt you.”
‘Is there anyone around here that can’t see right through me?’
“Okay...”
He sighed.
They shared sessions once a week, and every time, Sakura followed him outside afterward to ask for either a cigarette or a light. He would grunt one-word answers to her questions and then take off on his Kawasaki without so much as a glance in her direction. But today had gotten under his skin, apparently.
He watched her, waiting to see if she would flee from him.
She gave him a small smile. “I was thinking...”
He scoffed. “You do too much of that.”
“...that maybe we can do an experiment.”
He didn’t ask for clarification, but the question weighed heavily in his eyes.
“I... think maybe we could do that thing Shizune suggested last week. Together, I mean.”
She was too cowardly to put it into words, worried he’d hear the hope in her voice. Basically, Shizune had suggested to all her patients to let their anger out on something constructive – kind of like kickboxing or tae kwon do – in a controlled environment, with a partner. Sakura tried to school her features so Gaara didn’t think she was excited by the idea of getting hot and heavy with him. His calculating stare pierced right through her and he raised a non-existent eyebrow.
“If I let my demon out, it will break you in two.”
He really knew how to end a conversation.
 .:.
 “You ever tried to kill yourself?”
Every week she asked a question, he answered it, then he asked her something, and the cycle went on. It was the only experiment she suggested that he would go along with. Now, with only one more shared group therapy session left, Sakura was feeling the deadline to break through him fast approaching; the end of having him in her life.
She thought of the craziest question she could conjure; the rumours of his violence having escalated to murder lingering on the edge of her mind. And the question blurted itself out of her mouth before she could stop it.
Gaara didn’t look offended though, just nodding his head slowly. After a minute, he asked “you ever killed anyone?”
“No.”
She came close once, though. It wasn’t something she was particularly proud of. It was a line she didn’t want to cross. Even in her darkest moments while her inner was in control, that last breath and final punch to the gut never came. She never did it. It was why she’d been carted off to the loony bin rather than jail.
Sakura was not grateful to her inner, but rather grateful it at least wouldn’t do that.
“It’s almost the same thing,” Gaara said. “Except the pain isn’t yours.”
Her heart was racing now, but she just had to know. “What does it feel like?”
Sakura had no idea what she was expecting from him – perhaps, “horrible” or “it feels like dying”. She held her breath, waiting.
“Only an idiot would ask that.”
She seethed. “Fuck you. It was just a question. Why are you such an arsehole?”
He reached over to her and she stiffened. Gaara gave her a wry grin and plucked the unlit cigarette from her fingers without making physical contact; so absorbed in their game, she hadn’t remembered she was still holding it.
“It’s my turn to ask a question.”
She huffed. “So, ask.”
“Why are you such an arsehole?”
Sakura sighed. She rubbed her forehead and groaned. His light chuckle startled her. “What’s so funny?”
He waved her cigarette at her patronisingly. “I don’t think you understand the rules of this game.”
“I don’t like this game anymore.”
“You don’t like to lose.”
“What? I’m not losing.” She frowned, realising her slip. “This isn’t a competition.”
He just shrugged.
Sakura glared at him; as usual, he was unfazed. The nerve of him! When he continued to ignore her heated glare and put her smoke in his mouth, she growled. “Fine. I’m an arsehole because it keeps people away who I don’t want to deal with.”
He stopped flicking his lighter to stare at her. “And that’s all?”
“No.”
He gave her a Cheshire grin. “Why else?”
“Why else?”
Gaara nodded and inhaled; shuddering and closing his eyes for a few minutes. He looked like a satisfied cat that had just dismembered a bird. Or maybe a whole flock of them. She could just visualise the speck of blood on the corner of his mouth while his tongue darted out to taste it again.
She shuddered, then shook herself, almost forgetting to answer his question. “I don’t like that goody-two shoes act. I used to play it all the time. It’s annoying. Why are you so pushy?”
“It’s fun. Why were you in the loony bin?”
Sakura bit her lip to keep from snapping something inappropriate at him. It wasn’t until she regained control from her inner that she’d been locked up. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t a game. She’d have thought he, of all people, wouldn’t make light of that.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
She offered a small smiled. “No, it’s no worse than me asking you what it feels like to kill someone. I shouldn’t have asked it. I just...”
“Wanted to know.”
“How do you read me so well?”
Gaara shrugged. The truth was, it was like looking into a mirror – one with pink hair and a cute little nose, but a mirror nonetheless. She was a version of himself without the need to tear things apart. He loved that.
Sakura fiddled with the hem of her shirt. She wanted to avoid that murder question, but she didn’t want to ask anything trivial. Everything seemed bland by comparison.
“Why... when did you start smoking?”
He snorted. “Lame.”
“Stop telling me how stupid my questions are and answer me.”
Gaara stared at her blankly. “I was thirteen.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “My turn.”
“Sorry.” Again.
He nodded but said nothing. After a few minutes, she started to fidget. As soon as she opened her mouth to tell him to ask her a question, he spoke.
“When did you start smoking?”
“Talk about lame questions.” She giggled when he glared at her. “Fine. I was nineteen. But I don’t smoke often. Never have. Uh... why–”
“No more simple questions. I’m bored.”
She bit her lip. “I noticed you don’t touch people.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Can I touch you?”
He didn’t stiffen like she thought he would, just stared at her – almost unseeingly. “No. Why do you want to?”
She blushed. “Uh... because...”
He rolled his eyes.
“Craziest place you can imagine having sex.”
“On a plane.” Gaara held her gaze unblinkingly. “The last time you had sex?”
“Uh.” Her face must look like a tomato by now. “Um. Maybe... a year ago.”
Gaara had put out his cigarette (her cigarette, the thief), and was leaning closer to her. She could feel his breath on her skin. She had to get the topic away from sex before she touched him and let him crawl inside her. And die. She would literally die.
“Uh...” She cleared her throat. “Where else in the world would you rather be right now?”
That was a safe topic, surely.
“Inside you.”
‘Fuck me.’
She stuttered. “What happened to you not wanting to touch me?”
“I never said I didn’t want to.”
“I thought–”
“Doctor Senju filled your head with the he can’t touch people routine?”
Sakura growled at him. “Are you accusing her of lying to me?”
“Just skirting around the truth.”
“She warned me to be careful with you.”
“Kittens aren’t supposed to be masochists,” he snarled.
“I’m not a cat.”
“Yes, you are.”
She frowned at him. “What’s gotten into you?”
Gaara smirked devilishly, his fingers now tugging at the top button of her shirt. She made no move to stop him, but Sakura had gone stiff, terrified of the animalistic look in his eyes.
He stood, leaning over her, and shoved her backwards; she’d been sitting on the edge of a concrete garden, hedge flowers at her back. Gaara held her down, climbing over her; she spared only a momentary thought for the fact that her shirt was getting dirty and was laying at an odd angle before gasping. His hand was on her throat; his body encased hers. Fingernails scraped along her neck; not enough to bleed but enough to hurt.
“Do you ever dream of me?”
Gaara was continuing their game, even as he nipped her throat and settled between her legs.
“Y-yes.”
Gaara shifted his weight on her to kick her legs apart. “Is this what you wanted?”
She licked her lips. “Y-yes.”
He chuckled when she groaned. There was a sharp pain along the back of her legs from being held down like this, but she ignored it. What she really wanted suddenly scared her. “Wait.”
Gaara growled; his grip on her throat tightened and Sakura gasped for air. “No more waiting. He wants you.”
Sakura coughed and spluttered. “He?”
He added a little more pressure but eased enough to allow her airflow. “Yes. He’s been thinking about you hot, wet, and wriggling underneath me.”
“Are you...”
It suddenly clicked. Sakura had an inner – a voice that spoke to her and lashed out. A female voice. It wasn’t inconceivable that Gaara had something similar. From her one-on-one sessions, she’d begun to unravel her inner; to see the reflection of her psyche for what it really was. But clearly, Gaara hadn’t made that leap into redefining himself. He still thought of his inner voice as something separate from himself. Something that can’t be overcome because it had a mind of its own.
She pushed her pity down and shifted into medic mode. He needed her more than she needed him, right now.
“You can pull away if you want.”
It pained her to deny herself something she had grown so desperate for, but maybe taking it slow and letting this come more naturally would be good for her, too. Sakura had no doubt they would progress that far eventually, but in the bushes, just out of sight of the hospital entrance, was not the place to have sex with him for the first time.
They had time.
“Gaara.” She reached up and touched his forehead. The complicated kanji felt just as smooth under her fingers as the rest of him did. Almost like it wasn’t even there. “Push him away.”
He growled down at her, almost like that persona was speaking through him. “I will fuck you. I don’t play games and I don’t fuck around. Next time you push me, I’ll push back. This is your only warning.”
He shoved her again, and then jumped up, moving away from her. But he didn’t go far before half turning to frown at her. “If you do that again, he’ll kill you.”
She swallowed heavily, watching him through her blurry vision as he limped away from her; whether he was in pain from something he did to himself or being so turned on, she couldn’t tell.
She’d pushed him too far. She knew it.
And if it wasn’t for the fact that he had already proven himself to be possessive, Sakura would worry about never seeing him again.
No.
He wasn’t done with her yet.
101 notes · View notes
aesirfalling · 6 years
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A: How did you come up with the title to all of your fics (seriously your titles are so good)? H: How would you describe your style (don't say acid ok)? K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with? R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist? okay I must stop or I might as well cut and paste the entire thing here and there's a word limi
RII NO
A: How did you come up with the title to all of your fics (seriously your titles are so good)?
Like the wannabe poet and symbolism addict that I am, I collect quotes and words on tumblr and in the things that I listen to or read. Some quotes and words just stay with me, and I keep track of them in various ways (including naming stupidly expensive fictional dragons after them - you should see my horde of dragons named after things like Eve, Rapture, Insomnia and Asterion). Some fics were written around their titles since the idea in the title was what inspired the fic in the first place (see: Zhi Yin, Oblique Asymptote, And the Sky Tonight is Luminous). Other fics take their names from the central ideas explored by said fics (see: Black Poppy, Episteme). Some fics reference a fitting emotion or line (Together We Brought the Moon Down, From What We Cannot Hold).
… And then some fics just were titled on the fly (And Light be the Path to Home, Ubuntu).
H: How would you describe your style (don’t say acid ok)?
BUT ACID LACED WITH RAW EMOTIONS IS SO ACCURATE
… Stylistically, I’m heavy on symbolism, metaphors, loooooong sentences, fragmented sentences, and short scenes. I like stream of consciousness/internal monologue stuff and feel the most at home in second person. I try to focus on character emotions and motivations before all else, and that often leads to botched plots and acid-y meandering.
K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?
FWWCH’s sad ending? .w. or FWWCH’s premise in general?
My OC writing is heavy, heavy angst, although I rarely post it up here so no one except @voceanic will get it haha. Out of the things that I have posted… Euterpe is very angsty for a very simple premise (terminal illness) if just because I dissect it very thoroughly, my League Asylum AU with @sheriff-caitlyn is hyper angsty by virtue of how utterly broken Jayce becomes (I once called the writing process for that “taking a hammer to my own brain and trying to pick up the largest pieces”), and the Hope chapter in Together We Brought the Moon Down hurts me a lot even though it’s not the most meticulously crafted thing and also probably requires a reading of my Ark!Hope theory to even understand.
R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? 
Oh man. A lot of writers have influenced me super heavily. My parents once owned a small book full of… scripts of famous movie scenes, English and Chinese side by side. I got bored as a child and read that book a lot. I got into Wuthering Heights. I read Wuthering Heights when I was like, 8 years old. And it’s never left me. All my obsession with irrational passionate characters and acid trip prose can be traced back to Emily Bronte.
My mother kept a subscription to a popular Chinese magazine when I was young, and it’s really influenced my writing style as well as general outlook. It was something in between Reader’s Digest or Chicken Soup for the Soul, and there were some seriously touching short stories in it. Those stories painted things like human pain and joy in truly meticulous and reverent ways and now I always strive to do the same.
东方骏真 was a Chinese writer in the Digimon fandom in the mid 2000s that I really admired. His Takari work referenced things from Greek myth to The Water Margin and included truly impressive ensemble casts, and showed me just how cool fanfiction could be. I started writing my first fic because of him and even now FWWCH heavily echoes his magnum opus. His depiction of things like loyalty, chivalry and love floored me when I was 12 and continues to floor me when I’m 23.
@voceanic is a blessing and I’m still so glad that we encountered each other and have become great friends. Their work (in the League fandom or original) has a Celtic myth quality that I simply adore, a storytelling mood that means I can sit and listen to them for hours and days, a heart that I want to just reach and hold, and… so many words.
I wrote this about her work a while ago so let me just copy it over now
“When she breathes she fills the air with broken winged doves and fiercely brilliant auroras.”
Dellaluce wrote briefly in the Homestuck fandom and their FFX crossover If the Sun Won’t Rise remains one of my favorite things ever. If you’ve read that you can probably catch glimpses of references littered everywhere in my work. The ending to that fic just blows me away every time and I just. I cry ok. That fic also got me interested in FF before I’ve played any of the games or read anything on the series…
S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?
I don’t know if they are “fandom tropes” (I tend to think of them as just “tropes” because I love them in everything) but:
Artists/poets falling in love, especially if it crashes and burns in spectacularly melodramatic fashion
Hope and Light as a symbolic pair, especially when some kind of divinity is involved
Trauma, Hurt-Comfort, and Survival (faith and a wish to survive are musts. I don’t like angst just for the sake of angst, it’s always about hope and a burning, living desperation for me)
Carpe Diem
The idealistic child (or adult acting like a child) with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, truth, and wonder
Abandoned people trusting and believing in love, and desperately seeking it at all costs
Idealistic self-sacrifice, especially when foiled (see: Yuna)
Self-fulfilling prophecies
Alternatively, just look at Hope Estheim because he probably embodies everything I’ve ever loved in a fandom character LOL
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lonepiper5758 · 7 years
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Long long ago, @ladywiltshire​ tagged me in an 11 Things Tag and I really wanted to reply, so here goes. Thanks for the tag! and sorry for my extreme tardiness.
1. Do you remember your first time watching or reading Fullmetal Alchemist? What was your first impression?
I saw 2003 first and even on first viewing I thought it was a bit “story of the week” and the overarching story was developed in a piecemeal fashion. This was not helped by the fact that life was very stressful and I’d often drop off to sleep for a bit during the episode. :-/ But I still thought it was pretty good.
Then Second Son learned of Brotherhood and persuaded me that it was even better so I watched it and was BLOWN AWAY!  The brilliant story arcs, the amazing and believable characters, the complexity of the world, beautiful artwork, flawless animation, fantastic music, arghhh….. just W*O*W!!!
So now I am finally reading the Manga and the learning all the stuff that was left out of Brotherhood and being blown away by this amazing work all over again.
2.  Tell us about The Fave™.
I’m really torn between Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye as The Fave™. And can you have one without the other? But today I’ll say Roy Mustang. He’s this great balance of power and dorkishness. And that’s part of his appeal because a character who is constantly epically badass is boring. I also think he’s appealing because as a leader he’s motived by his desire to protect those around him, and not to exercise power over them. And that makes his relationships with other characters far more meaningful.
He is heroic and flawed and there’s so much we don’t know about him, and how his values developed which ads a layer of intrigue. I just want to sit down and have coffee with him and generally offer to help out with any plans he has going at the moment.
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Source: hisokan
3.  Do you have a favourite fan work? Fanfics? Comics?
The works of “That Hoopy Frood” (That_Hoopy_Frood) on AO3 impress me hugely. And Elena’s @theysangastheyslew art constantly amazes me with the way she can pack it with narrative and character.
Then there are so many shards of brilliance floating across my dash I’m hesitant to start listing people for fear of omitting some. Suffice to say I hold my mutuals in very high esteem.
4.Hit me with an analysis/opinion you have on the series or characters!
Now I suspect others have said this but, I think that the energy to transmute matter, or at to least to start the reaction, originates directly from the alchemist performing the transmutation. This explains why just about every alchemist we see is pretty lean. Performing alchemy consumes energy and burns body fat.
This is why Colonel Mustang is often napping when he should be doing paperwork.
In the case of Edward Elric, performing alchemy from such a young age has contributed to his underdeveloped stature. As a result of less alchemy/fighting during the months immediately preceding the Promised Day, he was able to grow a bit.
As to other analysis, I have been known to go on a bit about Episode 19.
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(Just wanted a gif with Riza. :) )
5. Tell us about a project you have going on! Or if you don’t have one, maybe something you’ve always wanted to write or draw?
No big projects. I’m trying to finish a few things in my WIP folder, all of which are likely to be pretty short. I’m always torn between thinking my writing is waffling on and not pithy, and then wondering why I write short one chapter things?
I’m planning to have a go at Royai Week 2017, even though I suspect I’ll crash and burn because -
Not sure how I’ll go responding to prompts.
I think I write quite slowly.
Life will probably flare up and get in the way.
6.  Favourite opening/ending number and why?
I really love the animation in a few opening/ending credits, but for the combo with the music my favourites are -
Opening 1 “Again” by YUI - great song, heaps of energy and nice synergy in the editing. Love the bit where Ed and Al start unraveling. (And of course the now infamous “Harder Colonel”.)
Ending 4 “Shunkan Sentimental” by SCANDAL. - again I like the song and I like the visual of travelling through the tunnel.
7. Tell me about a scene that really touched your or made you realize something about yourself.
A scene that always hurts is just after Bradley murders Martel while she is inside Alphonse. How Alphonse is just sitting there in a pool of Martel’s blood. For a young man who is so compassionate and caring to be so powerless to help and to have the trauma of her lifeless body cleaned out from inside him. It always says something to me of how there is a cost when we try to help. 
Showing genuine care and compassion will cost you, so be prepared.
8. OTPs! Who are they? Why are you WEAK FOR THEM??
OK, so as mentioned above in Q2 Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye are The Fave™ so no surprise that OTP = Royai! 
The obvious care, trust, understanding, dedication, fondness and just everything they have for each other, of course they love each other, that’s part of the package. It’s all the stronger because they don’t get to be smooching and holding hands. Their relationship, with all its pragmatism and unspoken truths is the result of intentional choices and not transient feelings. There is a maturity about them and they stick together no matter what is thrown at them. 
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At this point I’m going to melt just thinking about them and rely on quoting a post by @mylieutenant because I think she says it so well.
“The thing with Roy and Riza is that they don’t have to get sexual, romantic, or even touch each other at all, for it to be clear they have chosen each other as partners in a common goal for a long term, possibly for life. In this partnership there’s trust, respect, communication, affection, and even need.
This much is established in the series. So, does the fact that there’s no conventional sign of courtship make this ship any less canon?”
9. Funniest headcanon you’ve ever seen. Go!
This is vain but I think a funny hc is one I put forth about Major Armstrong - 
“Major Alex Louis Armstrong personally employs a group of tailors who work endlessly to re-supply him with uniforms and other clothes after he rips them off.  Homeless people in Central who find his discarded clothing use the fabric to build temporary shelters.”
Remembering that I am Tumblr sub-atomic - this one post seemed to double my followers in one afternoon????
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10. What spurred you to join the fandom?
WelI… I really like FMA and one bored day about a year ago I thought, I want to look at pictures of Mustang. (This is possibly unusual for my demographic, but hey, so what!)  So I googled and somehow ended up reading some FMA fanfics on AO3 and I thought “Jeeze! You can do this??!! I wanna try!!”
So I started having a go at writing and posted a couple of stories on AO3. Then reading stories on AO3 and some folks referenced things on Tumblr. It seemed Tumblr might be a fun place for discussion and to share stories. So I very tentatively wandered into Tumblr-land and have found a really cool corner filled with friendly, creative, helpful people.
And if that fits the definition of “join the fandom” that’s it!
11. Definitely the same question… have a fandom meltdown here and tell me why you love your fandom or show/comic so much!
Yeah? Why do I love this show so much? Sometimes I catch myself fangirling in my mind over Roy Mustang and then I think, hang on, this a fictional character and I’m 20 years his senior, so just grow up and calm down. Then I see a screen cap or something and I’m thinking good god he’s fantastic. Is it just that he’s a good looking representation of a bunch of interesting and admirable character qualities? Is it the combination of character and narrative? What?? Why am I like this?? There is No Hope. I am lost!
So there’s my answers. I really enjoyed thinking this through. Thanks again for the tag.  I’m not tagging ‘cos it was soo long ago….  Thanks if you’ve read this and happy day to you. :)
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