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mariacallous · 7 months

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Here in D.C., all eyes are on the speakership drama in the House of Representatives. Speaker Kevin McCarthy’s (R-Calif.) antagonists on the far right of the House Republican conference have threatened to depose McCarthy as speaker, a position McCarthy won in January 2023 – but only after breaking the post-Civil War record for the most ballots needed (15) to get the job.

McCarthy has made some concessions to his GOP opponents. For instance, he agreed to their demand that the House restore a longstanding rule that allows any member to go to the House floor with a resolution declaring the speakership vacant and demand that their colleagues vote on it. Some argue the rule is a sword of Damocles hanging over the speaker. That’s why many think McCarthy has been relentlessly trying to cater to his far-right flank – even though their proposals haven’t passed the GOP-led House and would be dead on arrival in the Democratic-led Senate.

The far right flank has voted against considering even those measures that have been packed with their own priorities. At the same time, a bipartisan group is pressuring McCarthy to lean on Democratic votes to pass a stopgap bill that would avoid a government shutdown after September 30th. Maybe that’s what McCarthy’s GOP antagonists are gunning for: Give McCarthy no other option, so that if he wants to avoid a government shutdown he must make a deal with Democrats – and then force a vote that would depose him.

But is the threat to vacate the speakership credible? Could McCarthy’s opponents attract enough support to boot him from the speaker position? I’m not so sure. The rules of the game matter here. And even some House members might not know all the relevant rules. But you’re in good hands here.

How the rule works

Under House rules and precedents, any member of the chamber can introduce a resolution to declare the Office of the Speaker vacant. Here’s one then-Rep. Mark Meadows (R-N.C.) introduced in 2015 to pressure Speaker John Boehner (R-Ohio) to heed policy demands from the Freedom Caucus. And here’s a draft resolution from Rep. Matt Gaetz (R-FL), found by a reporter in a Capitol bathroom. (Can’t make this stuff up!)

Most important, any member introducing such a resolution can go to the House floor and be recognized to announce their intent to offer the resolution as a matter of “constitutional privilege.”

Such questions of privilege have precedence over all other motions – save one. The Speaker is allowed to move to delay consideration of the resolution for up to two legislative days. At that point, defenders of the Speaker might try to dodge a vote with a motion to table (a.k.a. kill) the resolution. If that fails, the Speaker’s supporters would need to vote to directly defeat the resolution. Some minority party members might even vote against removing McCarthy: The devil you know might be better than the one you don’t.

It’s never succeeded

The House has never acted to remove its speaker. True, speakers have come under pressure to resign – as Boehner did in 2015 after Meadows introduced a resolution to declare the speakership empty. (Note though that Meadows failed to offer the measure as a privileged resolution on the House floor, forfeiting the opportunity to pursue a swift floor vote.)

In fact, the House has voted just once on a resolution to declare the speakership vacant. And it failed.

The year was 1910. After years of rising anger about Speaker Joseph Cannon’s (R-Ill.) tight-fisted control of the House agenda and exclusion of Progressive GOP priorities, a bipartisan coalition voted to oust the speaker from the chamber’s pivotal Rules Committee and to expand its membership. Shorn of his prized spot on the committee that structures the chamber’s agenda, Cannon faced his opponents on the floor and called on them to try to remove him, saying, “show the courage of [your] convictions, and submit the motion vacating the Speakership.”

Cannon prevailed, 155-191, slightly fracturing his own party. Still, Democrats viewed their foe – known as Czar Cannon for his iron-fisted rule – as their best asset in the fall campaign to win back control of the House. They were correct.

What if this time is different?

If McCarthy’s opponents succeed, many suggest chaos will consume the House, with multiple ballots again needed to seat a speaker. But the rules would be slightly different this time around.

When a new Congress meets for the very first time, it can do no business except to elect its speaker or to adjourn. It can’t even swear in its members. Only after the House elects a speaker can the chamber adopt rules to govern its proceedings. That added to the uncertainty of the current Congress’s opening days, as McCarthy struggled through that record number of ballots to secure the job. But once in place, House rules remain for the rest of a Congress, unless the House votes to change them. So if McCarthy were to be deposed mid-Congress, the House could continue its business even before electing a new speaker.

How, you might ask? Enter the secret list. Let’s call it the list of speakers-in-waiting. In the wake of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, the House revamped its rules – anticipating a scenario in which a speaker might be unable to perform their duties (whether due to an incapacitating illness, death, or a successful motion to depose them). In the case of a vacancy, the rule now requires the speaker to deliver to the Clerk of the House an ordered list of House members who will act as the “speaker pro tempore” until the election of a speaker or another speaker pro tempore. Importantly, although the rule has never been tested, an acting speaker appears to exercise all the authority of a real speaker – perhaps dampening the incentive to elect a permanent one.

Who’s first on the secret list?

That’s the thing. We don’t know. But it could matter for the timing and outcome of a vote to elect a new speaker should McCarthy be deposed.

For starters, an acting speaker might reduce the chances for chaos – limiting pressure to swiftly elect a new one. True, the rule intends the acting speaker to serve only until a new speaker (or another speaker pro tempore) is elected. But depending on whom McCarthy put atop his list, the acting speaker might be acceptable enough to most Republicans to take the urgency out of an immediate vote. That might be the case if McCarthy picked one of his trusted and well-liked allies, such as Rep. Patrick McHenry (R-N.C.) or Dusty Johnson (R-S.D.). Even Democrats might be (secretly) content with the choice.

What if McCarthy put Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga.) first on the list – perhaps a reward for her loyalty in his contest for the speakership? Point is, we don’t know how lawmakers will react. But the identity of the acting speaker could hasten agreement on a replacement speaker.

But can any Republican other than McCarthy secure the votes required to be elected speaker? If not, the right of any lawmaker to seek removal of the speaker might not be much of a threat to McCarthy. In other words, the rule might not prove to be a sword of Damocles that threatens McCarthy’s hold on power. If that’s the case, we’ll likely never know who tops McCarthy’s list.

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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thestorytellersapprentice · 4 years

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Pulled out of Orbit

Pairing: Jo Yeong/Myeong Seung-ah

Fandom: The King: Eternal Monarch

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Summary: Being in a possible courtship with Jo Yeong sucked. One minute, he could be so sweet (albeit also such a grandma), but next he could act like such a prick, she wanted to throw something at his head.

Notes: Unbeta-ed. Post drama. A direct continuation to "Over Booze and Buzz", and references "Duality of a Man", but the two fics are not absolutely required to read and enjoy this. This can also work as a stand-alone, though their relationship in this fic will feel more natural if you’ve read the mentioned fics as companions :)

Link: ArchiveofOurOwn / Fic Master list on Tumblr

~ How would you feel, if you had this crush on someone who you thought was really, really cool, the best on his field, the shield of the nation, the personification of an action hero, just, like, insanely cool and all, okay, and said crush had just swooped in and whisked you away from - well, at the expense of sounding a little bit dramatic - death? Would you even have any brain capacity to put together even a coherent thought?

No?

Yeah, same here, Myeong Seung-ah concluded.

“It's just a graze,” the doctor, a kind-looking man in his early seventies who had tended to her, had said after inspecting her wound.

Seung-ah blinked several times, trying to scare the blurriness away.

She was vaguely aware that she was still vertical, sitting somewhere inside the medical van. Her entire body was still kind of sore from the impact, and some part of the back of her head still throbbed, ever slightly. She tried to hold up the ice pack against her head properly, but her arm felt like jelly, nearly with no energy left.

“You might have a mild concussion," the doctor continued as he finished up bandaging her upper arm. "Make sure you have someone staying with you tonight."

Seung-ah nodded at that, but her mind was not really there. Instead, she flashed back to the series of events which just happened.

One minute she was standing to the side, busy composing and drafting posts of the King’s opening speech for the official Royal SNS account, and the next thing she knew, gunshots rang out loud inside the stadium and chaos ensued. She barely had time to register what the hell had just happened when she caught him on her line of sight: the shooter, a masked man with the black baseball cap. He was emptying his gun blindly among the fleeing crowds before turning his aim at her general direction.

If someone had asked her what thought crossed her mind at that fateful time, then Myeong Seung-ah could only answer with: nothing.

It all happened too fast.

She just knew that she was completely frozen, rooted on her spot, and then another gunshot rang out - too loud, why is it so loud - and then she just remembered the blur of a shadow came in between the bullet and her, tackling her to the ground, hard.

It took Seung-ah a while - felt too much like a lifetime - to realize that it was Jo Yeong.

The Captain had her pinned down, his body covering her view completely from the madman as he wasted no time barking orders to secure His Majesty away and take the assailant down. She remembered taking a peek over his shoulders in muted awareness, seeing his fellow royal guards swarming in on the shooter. A couple of guys from the special forces, identifiable from their all-black uniform, also joined in, all of their weapons drawn up.

So, yeah, basically, she was almost shot.

If the Captain hadn't tackled her to the ground, then she was sure that her body would be decorated by bullet holes by now. She knew how extremely lucky she was that the bullet just grazed her. If it was a couple of centimeters more to the side, then-

Seung-ah stopped that trail of thought.

Her head spun.

She could not stop herself to recall that it was not her first time being rescued by the Captain. Curiously, it just happened that both times involved a madman with a gun.

If she was a believer that there was no such thing as mere coincidences, only fate, then Seung-ah would definitely interpret it as a clear warning sign from the Universe: stay very far away from this man, he’s dangerous.

She turned in her seat, seeking him out.

Her head throbbed even more from the movement, but she was more overwhelmed by how it felt like her heart just made a weird flip inside her chest as she realized that the man in question, Captain Jo Yeong, was still there, on the exact same spot she last saw him after he had rushed her to the medic.

He was still standing on the edge of the opened van, his gaze directed slightly to the side, sporting a hard expression on his face. He looked like he could and had every intention to murder someone.

Yeah, he definitely is dangerous.

“She’s okay, Jo daejangnim,” the elderly doctor got up to approach the Captain. He ducked his head to avoid the ceiling. “Mild concussion, perhaps, but as long as she’s careful, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you, Doctor Byun,“ Seung-ah heard him say quietly.

The doctor patted the younger man on the shoulder before he exited the vehicle, presumably to talk to his team.

Directly after, the Captain climbed into the van and took the seat beside her. He kept a calculated distance, but it was still close enough for their shoulders and knees to touch.

His gaze first landed on her newly bandaged arm, before moving up to her face and lingered there. Their eyes locked. “You really feel okay?”

“Guess so,” Seung-ah replied, probably a beat too soon, but what else could she respond to that? It was not as if she could tell the man beside her that it took a great deal of her self-restraint not to just lean on his shoulder right there and then.

She wondered briefly if he would let her. He did allow, and even initiate, things to happen between them already, so it was a fair assumption that she had the privilege. But she thought better of it.

She just felt extremely tired and wanted to sleep, so, so bad.

Seung-ah crossed her arms purposefully. Her hands were still shaking, slightly, but she hoped he didn’t notice.

There was no such luck, though, she could see it from the way one his eyebrows twitched slightly upon her lie. But he did not make a comment.

Instead, he just let out a long, low exhale, before continuing on, his voice soft and steady, “Come on, let’s get you home.”

In the car, the next thing Seung-ah did after giving him her address was to call Choi Soo-ji, her childhood friend. She did hear and remember the kind doctor's advice not to be alone, and she intended to comply.

If she was being honest with herself, of course she wanted no one but Jo Yeong himself to stay with her that night. But even at her most self-serving state, Seung-ah knew how crazy it sounded and she would not even entertain that idea any further.

She chose to focus her attention to Choi Soo-ji instead. "Soo-ji-ya, can you come over and stay with me tonight?"

"Right now? What's the occasion?" Soo-ji was a cellist and Seung-ah knew that she was currently busy preparing for her solo recital, but she just felt awkward phoning her other friends. She mostly got estranged from most of them except for Soo-ji when she was living in Canada. Choi Soo-ji was kind of her only hope.

"I-"

Seung-ah thought it over quickly, thinking of how much she should tell her. Her friend would find out the truth from the news pretty soon anyway, if she hadn’t already. Seung-ah assumed it was futile to try dodging the question, so she finally settled on the following, "I banged my head at work today. Need you to monitor me, just in case I grow two heads or something."

At the end of the line, her so-called best friend just responded with: "Don't you have those already?"

“Yah, Choi Soo-ji,” Seung-ah chided. But actually, she was glad that her friend chose to joke about it. There was a lifelong understanding between them, and she was really not in the mood to answer any more questions than what was necessary.

The cellist chuckled. “Alright then. Some heads up, though, I’m gonna raid your chocolate and ice cream stash. I’m this close to losing my mind!”

After they both said their goodbyes, Seung-ah stole a glance sideways at the Captain as she ended the call.

For some reason, she found herself at a loss for words, wondering what she should open their conversation with. It was weird, really, because she usually had no problem teasing him or anything. But at that moment, her mind just went blank.

True, they had kissed that night during the King's birthday, not just in the locker room, but also at the secluded halls of the palace. (It was one of the perks of getting it from a Royal Guard who knew precisely where all the CCTV cameras were by heart.) And Seung-ah had to stress that the kissing part was good. More than good, actually.

It was intense, and a little bit rough.

It was everything she imagined it would be and then more-

But they hadn’t even had the chance to have the talk.

Both were practically swept away with their respective responsibilities right after the party ended. Him, with the security debriefing, and her, with the event photos and publication which needed to move on tight deadlines.

After that, the following few days happened to be a busy period for the Captain, something that Seung-ah herself was also privy to as a staff of the PA Office. The King and Royal Court always had several public appearances scheduled right following his birthday, many which she also helped to organize, and she and her coworkers had been working around the clock to accommodate the sudden changes which always seemed to happen around such events.

Between the two of them, phone messages were exchanged and short calls were occasionally made, but they all happened sporadically. Often, he would reply to her messages on all sorts of odds hours. In return, she would feel bad engaging him in extended trivial conversations, so their message thread was a mess of half-baked inquiries and choppy attempts at discourse.

She was even worried that he was not getting enough sleep as he should, so Seung-ah had to practice a whole lot of self-restraints.

Being in a possible courtship with Jo Yeong sucked.

Of course, she would like to know where they stood too. Were they considered dating already? Were they still strictly coworkers, but he's still trying to court her? Was it still the other way around, her chasing him? Or all of it didn't mean anything to him?

Seung-ah was pretty sure it wouldn't come to the last option, though. She was not a genius, but the fact that the Captain of the Royal Guards chose to stay with her and take her home instead of guarding the King in the aftermath of such a huge incident felt like a declaration already, coming from him.

So, why was she being so nervous, all of the sudden?

It should be the uncomfortable silence which fell between them. He didn’t even turn on his radio, no surprise there, but even for his standards, it was a new level of quietness.

It unnerved her.

What really did not help was that his cell phone, which was connected to his car systems, kept ringing and ringing, and he kept declining the calls. He had even taken off his earpiece too, she realized belatedly when she noticed that his right ear was bare, no device in sight.

She really tried to make sense of the mood - his mood, to be more specific, but she was only able to come up with one easy assumption: he must be furious.

"Daejangnim?" she started, testing the water.

He did not even give her any indication that he heard her.

"Are you....angry?" She took a pause, unsure if she should continue. But she did. She wanted to know. "With me?"

Seung-ah watched him carefully as his furrowed brows deepened upon hearing the question.

"No,” he replied. Icy. Curt. Dismissive. What he said totally contradicted how he said it.

At times like these, she just hated his monosyllabic tendencies.

He confused her further though, by finally turning to look at her as they stopped in traffic. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?" He had said, his tone was tender this time around. "I'll wake you when we've arrived."

Seung-ah decided she would just agree to his suggestion. Her head did feel heavy, and his ever changing moods were a bit too much for her to also deal with at the moment.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the window, and soon drifted off.

"Be sure to give the hospital a call on the first sign of discomfort, okay?" He reminded her, seemed to revert back to his gentle self when he escorted her to her front door. "Watch out for any ringing in your ears, nausea, or even if you experience any sleep disruption."

"I will. Thank you for taking me home, daejangnim," she said, basking in his attention.

"Has your friend arrived already?”

“Hang on.”

Soo-ji knew her passcode, so Seung-ah just needed to key in her code and check her apartment’s entryway for her friend’s shoes to know the answer. And right on cue, Soo-ji’s bright red pumps greeted her sight. They were already lined up neatly beside her boots and heels, in exchange for one of her room slippers.

“Ah, yes, she’s here already,” Seung-ah informed him, feeling a pang of disappointment. She would not get the chance to invite the Captain inside for a quick tea after all. She was not ready for him to meet any of her friends just yet, even if said friend was Soo-ji. Especially Soo-ji, with her Spanish Inquisition.

“Okay then,” Jo Yeong had said. He nodded his goodbye greeting and then turned on his heels. She caught the sight of him instantly re-attaching his earpiece as he started to go down the stairs.

Seung-ah stayed put, leaving her door open as she watched his receding back for a while. The Captain finally took his phone out and answered his call. “Cut it out, Heok-pil. You don't have to keep calling me. I've told you, I'll deal with it after I got back-"

She could still hear his frustrated sigh from her doorway, before his voice became fainter as he expanded the distance. "Fine, might as well. Just put him on.”

Seung-ah visibly deflated.

Being in a potential courtship with Jo Yeong totally sucks, big time.

At first, she thought that it should be a mistake.

But then she reread and reread the latest email that the Captain of the Royal Guards had just sent to the whole PA Office regarding their latest proposal, and then she just went angrier by the minute. No, enraged.

She never thought such a day would come. Not that soon, anyway.

"Where is Jo daejangnim?" demanded Seung-ah to her Royal Guards acquaintance, Park In-young, whom she encountered just outside of the Royal Guards Headquarter which also served as the Palace’s Control Tower.

The Royal Guard in question had just closed the door to said office behind her. “He’s inside,” In-young replied.

She should have noticed the fire in her eyes, because In-young continued a beat later, her tone urgent, “Hey, you don't want to disturb him right now, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

Why the hell not, was what she’d like to say, but it was not In-young she was furious with. So, Seung-ah settled with, "Why not?"

"He had been pulling all-nighters for several days now. Heok-pil had gotten such an earful about some minor typos in his report, Jo daejangnim looked like he’s this close to explode. He is scariest whenever he’s trying to hold it in instead, you know.”

Ah, so he still retained his murderous mood from the incident, Seung-ah thought.

“We all have been walking in eggshells,” she concluded. "Tread with caution."

“Thank you for the warning,” Seung-ah replied, even though she felt like she did not give a damn.

At that time, she would bet that she was even angrier than him, though strictly only for professional reasons. On the personal front, her relationship with the Captain was having very little progress since he had dropped her off last week, but it was indeed peak season for both and they took their respective jobs very seriously, so she had no complaints on that subject as of yet. What also helped was his last text to her, which was stamped at 5:02 a.m. that morning, consisted of a sincere morning greeting and a gentle reminder to bring her umbrella to work that day because of the weather forecast. She had been woken up to it with a smile on her face.

Jo Yeong could be sweet when he wanted to (albeit also such a grandma).

But he could also turn into such a prick at work.

“Jo daejangnim, I would like some explanation, please," she wasted no time stating her disapproval right after she entered his office. She marched up towards his desk. "You can't just-"

Seung-ah stopped herself when she finally arrived in front of him.

He looked bad. Well, that was such a quick way to describe it, actually, but it did sum up the sight before her at that moment.

When she approached, he was in the middle of pinching his temples with one hand, rubbing them with his thumb and middle finger in circular motion. The Captain stopped what he was doing, though, once he clearly registered her voice. When he lowered his hand, Yeong looked weary, the dark circles under his eyes were unmistakable, and he was slightly paler than usual.

He let out an annoyed exhale as he rose up from his seat to meet her gaze.

His voice came out scarily level then, like it took him a great deal not to chew her up right then and there. "I've sent memos to the Royal Public Affairs Office about our code of conduct, have I not? You cannot just propose a new event, on such an open space, consisting of such outrageous proposals to involve so many civilians on divided fronts, with just a week's notice to the Royal Guards. I have explained it all in the documents, which now I doubt you read."

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the remaining Royal Guards in the room try to shuffle quietly towards the door.

"But you cannot just make the recommendation to dismiss the whole event. We've worked hard for months on it-”

"I can, and I just did," he stood his ground. At that point, he gave her an unflinching glare.

Seung-ah felt like crying in frustrations.

The Royal Public Affairs, especially she, had been working on the event for months. They planned on revamping the Royal Court image to reflect the modern times and promote science and knowledge all at the same time by inviting carefully selected digital influencers from various backgrounds to a single conference: from biotechnology scientists, startup practitioners, financial advisors, to entrepreneurs and digital marketers. There should be a packed schedule of interactive presentations, and each of the influencers would be prompted to stream the conference’s contents to their own platforms. Offline and online spreading of knowledge and networking opportunities, all at once.

The King, being a man of science and knowledge himself, had been reviewing the initiative with enthusiasm right from the start. He had even volunteered his expanded time to collaborate on-site with a few of the influencers.

To say that the event was a big deal for Seung-ah was a bit of an understatement.

"I'm just trying to understand," her voice quivered slightly then.

Yeong closed his eyes at that, his eyebrows knitted even more than usual as he let out a long exhale. "Please, not now, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

When he reopened his eyes, she was stunned to see the resigned plea in his eyes. "My head hurts," he said, quietly.

She softened in an instant.

"I'm sorry if I make it worse," she said, her anger evaporated. “I just-”

She did not finish her sentence. Everything she had been prepared to counterattack him with felt awfully childish then. She had never seen the Captain like that. He made her both confused and slightly terrified at the same time.

They fell into a pregnant pause.

Yeong threw his gaze away from her after a while. And then, after drawing in a breath, he finally confessed, "I- I did not even think about Pyeha when I dived in to save you."

Seung-ah froze, taking his admission in. The patterns and connections started to form in her head.

He should have felt lost, she realized. Jo Yeong, the best swordsman of the nation, whose single focus for almost the entirety of his life was to protect His Majesty and His Majesty only, suddenly had his life priorities yanked from under him.

How was she supposed to know that her initiative to have both the King and herself circling the conference independently all day long was enough to push the Captain over the edge?

He looked absolutely terrified. "Look what you've done to me, Miss Myeong Seung-ah."

Seung-ah rushed over to him then, hugging him real tight. Her heart ached seeing him that way. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I make it harder for you. I didn't know you feel that way."

He burrowed his head on the crook of her neck, returning her embrace.

They stayed like that for a while.

"I'll follow your stupid rules, then,” Seung-ah relented, her voice half muffled by his shirt.

Yeong let out an incredulous chuckle.

Finally, Seung-ah thought, the tightness in her chest instantly dissipated. She would have to overhaul her proposal, but she supposed it’s worth it. She realized that she was way too lenient with the man.

"Thank you," he replied quietly. He broke their embrace to look at her properly. “Just this once. Next time, give me much more time to prepare, will you? We can go over the best course of action together."

“I need to make sure I can protect both you and the Majesty at all times,” was unsaid, but he didn’t need to spell it out for her. She could see it in his eyes, loud and clear.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” she replied, already pulling him into another hug.

A few minutes passed, and when it should’ve dawned on him that she probably wouldn’t budge anytime soon, Yeong finally voiced his concern, "Uh, Seung-ah?"

"Let me be," she said. "Just for five minutes more. I just had a fight with my captain, I need some time to calm myself down."

Somewhere above her, she heard Yeong made a mortified noise.

She just stood there, comforted by the sound of his beating heart. Strong. Steady. The one who's worried for her. Her protector.

Seung-ah's smiles got wider as Yeong started to caress her hair.

Being in a courtship with Jo Yeong can be so wonderful, her heart is full.

#jo yeong #myeong seung ah #myung seung ah #woo do hwan #kim yong ji #king: eternal monarch #because there's not enough fics of them #because they're just too cute #for some reason my post doesn't show up on feed #hm curious

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gaasaku-fanfests · 5 years

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Desert Heart [Part III]

Title: Desert Heart Author: keltoi-oak Rating: T Word Count: 17886 Summary: Returning to his homeland in order to face the hardest trials of his life, Gaara encounters a water nymph who proves to be much more than she seems. Warnings: None Author's Note(s): AU/Fantasy. This threatened to turn into a multi-chapter monster, so I was forced to compress it into a three part fic. Managed to incorporate all the prompts. All in all, had a blast writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt chosen: chosen, survival, bells . (all three) Partner: thefreckledone

PART III

It was fading, little by little.

Sakura felt… different.

Over a week had passed since Gaara pulled her out of her agitated slumber and there was no doubt the experience had altered her.

As Sakura floated under the water, she closed her eyes and turned her consciousness inward. There was movement within her, a rearranging of sorts. Even though she could not pinpoint what was happening to her exactly, she was very much aware of the shift. The emotions still caught her unawares, and although she had remembered bits and pieces of a life long gone, she was still unable to make much sense of them.

But she was releasing the need to understand. Gaara’s words would echo in her ears, reminding her to respect the rhythm of her remembering. This helped to settle her inner discomfort and as a result, the intensity of her feelings was gradually diminishing. She was no longer overwhelmed. Because of her watery essence, Sakura was particularly good at flowing. So she dedicated herself to not resisting the current of emotions and to run with it.

Of course, other feelings were also surfacing. They were, as a matter of fact, becoming stronger by the day. But the difference was that she knew where these new sentiments were coming from. And frankly, she welcomed them.

The memory of the feel of Gaara’s arms around her, the sense of safety of falling asleep in his embrace, it all triggered honeyed and warm feelings within her. These were in complete contrast to the uncertainty, sorrow, and anxiety she had been experiencing. As was the case with Gaara, he provided great contrasts. And when being presented with such big differences, it was simple to decide which emotions to choose.

Therefore, Sakura focused on what he incited within her, welcoming the change. She would find herself relishing in his soft smiles, in the way the tone of jade in his eyes would shift depending on his mood, in the way the sun revealed orange glints in his otherwise dark scarlet hair. She would find herself absorbing his strength through his kind words and supportive perspective, finding that he was caring for her with the same commitment with which she was caring for him. They balanced out in the end. These emotions went hand in hand with the longing: her heart would always yearn when she waited for him to return.

The desire for closeness was also flooding her. After he offered her solace within his embrace, Sakura craved his nearness. He must have sensed it because he made it a point to make space for her. If he was cooking or eating, he would move to the side so she could sit next him; if he was meditating, he would allow her to rest her head on his thigh; when he rested on his bedroll, he would gesture for her to come close. These small allowances filled her heart with elation and helped to assuage the pining whenever he was away.

Because he offered her comfort, Sakura would always respond in kind. She would run her fingers through his hair whenever she had the chance. The softness of his locks had been a revelation. To realize Gaara welcomed her physical contact had brought with it great delight. Therefore, she wasted no chance to offer caresses, loving it when he leaned into her touch. It gave him ease when he returned to the pool exhausted. The fatigue he was experiencing was not just physical, but emotional and mental as well.

This was another element that weighed on her, the knowing he was pushing himself to his limit. Although Sakura knew the Sand Roam was meant to push participants to the edge of their abilities, she was very much concerned for Gaara’s well-being. What he needed was prolonged rest and quality sleep. His mind and body needed to recover equilibrium. She sincerely wished the challenges would come to an end sooner rather than later.

Rising inside the pool, she broke through the surface, looking up at the endless sky above. Sunset was fast approaching and Gaara had not returned yet. He had been gone since yesterday afternoon and it had been her hope that the present task would prove a short one. Just a few days ago, Gaara had survived an encounter with a lightning wyrm that had left him seriously wrung out. The battle had raged for long hours and had, no doubt, been his toughest challenge yet. Severely wounded but alive, Gaara had stumbled his way back to the oasis. Sakura had wasted no time in flooding him with her energies, lifting the water from the pool in order to sheath him in a healing cocoon. He was so fatigued, he was unconscious practically the whole time it took her to treat the wounds scattered across his body. When he finally opened his eyes, he was awake just long enough to get something to drink and have a quick bite. Sakura allowed him to slip back into slumber, knowing very well rest was essential.

The next day he had shown great improvement and was finally able to share the full account of his clash with the wyrm. He also attempted to stand and move about but Sakura was having none of it. His body had been seriously injured and although she had helped, its healing response was slowing down due to accumulated exhaustion. Therefore, she watched him like a hawk and did not allow him to stray from his bedroll.

Thanks to this, the day after that he was feeling much better and his wounds showed amazing progress. Sakura would have confined him to his bedroll for the whole day again but the desert had other plans.

The Sand Roam summons came around mid-afternoon.

Gaara dressed and prepared to leave with his characteristic stoicism. Sakura bit her lip to prevent herself from ranting, thinking the whole thing was incredibly unfair. But she was aware any complaints on her part would just be unnecessary weight. At the moment, Gaara had enough on his plate for him to deal with her opinion. As he had always told her, the Sand Roam was what it was. Adding mental drama to the challenges would only pull him under.

With his usual promise to return as soon as possible, he stepped out of the sanctuary of the crescent stones and wandered out into the dunes.

Knowing very well his body was still in the process of recovery, Sakura was concerned about the state he would be returning in this time round. With any luck, the present task would have proven simple, with no threat to his health. She held steadfast to this hope.

But her expectations were proven futile some time later.

A gust of wind pummelled against the stones all around the oasis, funnelling though the small space between the tips of the crescent and blowing straight at her. Sakura felt it lash across her face. She covered her eyes with her arms, blinking at the sand the draft had carried. A second later, another squall hit the pool with the same intensity, causing waves to crash against the rocks. Perplexed, she looked all around as the wind and sand continued their assault, one powerful gust at a time. The rocks responded, their usually unwavering energy vibrating with a sense of unrest. The cacti and succulents followed suit, their vitality becoming restless, and the trunk of the desert willow began shaking.

The realization of what the wind and sand were conveying hit her instantly: urgency.

Something of great magnitude was happening.

Sakura closed her eyes and became one with the water. She spread her consciousness into the small streams running deep within the earth. The ground around her was eliciting the same kind of agitation and it took some doing for her not to be overwhelmed by it. She continued to search, connecting with the waters hidden underground in an attempt to find an answer.

But then the voice of the pool resonated within her and Sakura heard it speak his name.

Gaara.

Something was happening to Gaara.

Her eyes flew open and she willed the water to rise. It lifted her up in the air, clearing the top of the rocks and continuing further. Up and up she went, until she could get an eagle’s eye view of the surrounding landscape.

‘Where?’ she asked.

The water turned her towards the left, where she could make out some figures in the distance. Even this far away, she could make out the deep scarlet of his hair. He was in the middle of a fight against three hulking figures. In a radius around the bout, she could see several people, all of them standing around as if waiting.

Sakura saw Gaara take a hit only to fall to the ground.

He did not stand up again.

– XXXXXXXX –

The bastards had waited for him on his way back. No doubt they had been spying on the route he took after finishing each challenge. They must have been aware of his battle against the lighting wyrm a few days back too. It was a sound strategy if you saw it objectively: catch your enemy at their weakest and attack with everything you have.

What they had was three large stone golems.

Gaara’s exhausted body and depleted chakra were simply no match for their brutal strength. He did his best to dodge and move around them but he simply could not avoid all their blows. Hit by hit they reduced the little stamina he had until he was breathing heavily, barely able to stand.

All the while, the group kept their distance and waited for their creations to finish the job. Gaara recognized some of the faces in the assembly: people who had called him monster to his face, people who had openly shunned and harassed him. The venom in their voice had not diminished in the least throughout the years.

“We will never accept you as Chieftain!” one of them shouted as he continued to battle the golems.

“The desert can’t choose you if you’re dead!” another exclaimed.

It was amazing how they still carried the hatred and the loathing with them.

Their words only hardened his resolve.

But even though he did his best to deal with the golems, his body had finally reached its limit. His legs did not respond to his command to dive to the right and one of the creatures hit him square in the torso, sending him flying through the air.

He landed forcefully some distance away, the air leaving his lungs completely. Harnessing the last of his strength, he bid his body to stand up but it could not obey. His chakra was completely exhausted.

With his cheek against the hot dry, ground, Gaara acted on the last choice available to him: he opened up to the desert and asked for its help.

But no response came.

Instead of a full-on reply from the landscape, a small, thin tendril of sand rose next to his head. It caressed his cheek lightly before dissolving in the breeze.

Gaara blinked, utterly befuddled.

He heard the heavy steps of the golems as they came closer, intent on finishing their task.

Once more, he turned inward and pleaded. Asked desperately for aid.

But the desert did not respond. It remained still. The vastness all around him held back.

A fraught sound escaped his lips.

Give in, he heard the desert say. Yield.

‘You want me to submit to my enemies? They will not accept my capitulation. What they want is my life.’

The thin tendril of sand returned to stroke his hair but was gone in an instant.

Cede.

Gaara closed his eyes. There was nothing left for him to do. No action left in him and the golems were moments away from ending his existence.

Trust, the desert insisted.

Letting out a deep breath, he did the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life: he let go. Completely.

‘If you wish for me to lay down my life for you,’ he told the desert, ‘so be it.’

In the next instant, he felt the foot of one of the golems connect with his battered torso. The blow sent him flying through the air once more.

As he landed, tumbling among rocks and sand, he realized he could barely feel pain anymore. Everything was going numb. Slowly, he was losing his connection with his body.

The golems lumbered close, battering him once more before throwing him into the air. Amidst the beating, Gaara realized he had one sole regret.

In a hoarse voice, he whispered her name.

– XXXXXXXX –

The fear rose in a torrent within her, clawing at her stomach and making her tremble.

Sakura was paralyzed, unable to fight the dread. Yet time continued to tick away, uncaring of the void that had opened up within her and threatened to swallow her whole.

The golems kept moving in on Gaara, pummelling him with their blows.

She was well aware his body would not be able to withstand much more.

The sorrow pushed itself into her awareness and robbed her of breath. A grief so intense it made her feel as if all colour had vanished from the world, never to return.

She felt so small, so insignificant. All she wanted was to crawl away and hide.

Gaara’s body rolled on the ground and the dread was back, chaining her up and preventing her from acting.

‘I’m powerless,’ she told herself, a dry sob shaking her frame. ‘I can’t leave the pool. I can’t move that far away from water.’

An overwhelming anguish rose to the fore and Sakura felt her heart break into a thousand pieces. Nothing in life would ever make her whole again.

The emotions were so extreme, she let out a desperate scream and clasped her head in her hands. There was no way of avoiding the force of the feelings, they kept slamming against her incessantly.

Just like the blows Gaara was receiving.

Sakura lifted her head and forced herself to look at him. He never ran away from a challenge, never looked the other way when something proved difficult. Stoic and steadfast, he continued on his path, facing it all even when he had no strength left.

He had taught her so much.

It was time she put the lesson to the test.

Turning inward, she looked the dread in the eye. Gave it her full attention. She felt herself being pulled in, falling into an abyss where nothing but fear existed. She gave in to it, let it rise without restraint. And as overwhelming as it felt, Sakura realized something: there was a part of her that was aware of the dread. A part that stood apart and was untouched by it.

The terror was just a part… a part of her whole.

She was not the fear.

Pulling back, she created distance from the emotion. In a similar vein, she looked straight at the grief, taking in the anguish fully, and came to the same conclusion.

It was a part of her, not all of her.

She was not her grief.

The whole contained the parts. It was big enough to hold them, to experience them, and still remain standing.

The realization unlocked something within her, a portal that burst open with a force that left her reeling. She felt power flooding through her limbs. It greeted her like an old friend, one who had been waiting a long time for her to let it in.

It surged through her, flooded her entire body until there was no space left for anything else. Every particle of her body vibrated with it, clearing away all her confusion and cutting through her emotions like a blade.

Lifting her face to the sky, she felt a yell rise from the very core of her being.

“I am not my past!”

The sound of her voice echoed up into the ether and was gone, taken what she did not want with it.

As she turned towards the fight once more, she heard him clearly.

“Sakura.”

Her heart answered fervently to the sound of Gaara’s voice, the core of her entire being focusing exclusively on him.

When he called, there was nothing she could do but answer.

– XXXXXXXX –

The beating was brutal yet somehow, Gaara was still conscious. A part of his mind wondered idly just how much he would have to endure before the end.

The golems kept coming, their unnatural strength never diminishing. As constructs, they would be able to keep this up for days without tiring. It was all a matter of how long it would take for Gaara’s body to give out.

He hoped it wouldn’t be much longer.

But as one of the creatures bent down to pick him up, a gust of wind blasted its hand away. An intense squall descended from the open dunes and blew with such force, the golems were forced to take a step back.

Gaara heard the voice of the desert within the gale, heard it sing in elation.

His confused reaction was not allowed to last long.

The ground trembled, quaking with a force so powerful Gaara felt his body bounce upon it. With his ear against the surface, he could hear a distinct and loud rumbling approaching, his mind disbelieving what his senses were telling him.

He could hear the sound of flowing water under the ground.

A moment later, it exploded from under the earth, a great stream bursting several metres above the ground.

Gaara heard the hostile members of the Clan scream in confusion and fear some distance away but his entire focus had been captured by something else entirely.

As the fountain of water dissipated and fell to the earth in a flash of heavy rainfall, Sakura emerged from its core.

Moving with the fluid grace of a feline, she rushed at the nearest stone golem, no hesitation in her step. A single punch and she had deprived the creature of its leg, pulverizing it with the force of her blow.

Despite falling to one side, the construct reacted, swinging its heavy arm at her. She dodged the incoming blow and twisted, punching the golem’s limb as it moved past her. Dust and pebbles went flying in a burst as its arm was destroyed by her fist. The creature fell to the ground and she wasted no time in delivering her coup de grace, stomping on its head and crushing it underneath her foot.

With deliberate purpose, Sakura turned towards the other two golems.

After such an astonishing display, Gaara somehow found the strength to lift himself unto his elbows.

Having lost the element of surprise, the two constructs bore down on her in a coordinated assault. They towered above her, sending a barrage of attacks one after another. But she was too quick for them. She danced around their blows, dodging with such ease Gaara could only liken her movements to flowing water. But the golems kept coming, working together so as to prevent any opening for her to land a punch. As one of them swung at her, the other would appear before her, forcing her to step back or change course.

They were hulky and clumsy creatures, nonetheless. When fighting them, all one had to do was to be patient and make sure to avoid their blows. Their ungainly movements would yield a chance eventually. It seemed Sakura was very much aware of this fact. As long as she continued to move, an opportunity would present itself.

It came in the form of a lumbering kick aimed at her side by one of the golems. She dodged underneath it, sliding across the ground on her knees under the creature’s legs. She aimed a punch right at the hinge of its hip, disintegrating the joint. Deprived of its balance, the golem fell on its side like a tree being cut down. It certainly made a similar clamour when it hit the ground, the boulders that made up its body rattling loudly.

Sakura delivered a kick to its chest, pieces of rock flying every which way as she connected. Its entire torso crumbled and the creature stopped moving.

One left.

With the grace of her movements, she made quick work of it. One punch eliminated its right arm and a perfectly aimed kick pulverized its left calf. The golem fell down to one knee, its head coming level with Sakura’s eyes. As she was standing at its side, she lifted her arm and elbowed it in the ear, the skull-like stone exploding with the force of her blow.

As the golem’s body fell heavily to the ground, Sakura turned towards Gaara’s true assailants. She stood directly between him and them, her fists at the ready.

She was the most magnificent sight Gaara had ever laid eyes on.

His attackers, evidently, did not share his opinion. They shouted in dread and scattered to the four winds.

As they ran, Gaara saw Sakura’s legs twitch. She was contemplating the possibility of following them, no doubt. But to his elation, her caring nature took precedence. Turning his way, she fell into a run.

He stared in wonder as she approached. When she came closer, he noticed a glint in the middle of her forehead. There was a mark there, in the shape of a diamond. It flashed with a different kind of chakra that was still very much hers but that he had never felt before. Somehow, he had the sense she was more herself now than she had been before.

“Gaara,” she said, coming to kneel beside him. “Let me have a look at your wounds.”

But he pushed past his exhaustion and commanded his body to sit up.

“You should lie down and keep still,” she reprimanded.

Although her worry was merited, Gaara would have none of it. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. Kissing her knuckles, he fixed her eyes on hers.

“You are glorious,” he told her, his voice laden with admiration and a whole array of emotions too intense to properly identify.

Sakura stared at him for a long silent moment before her lips lifted in a splendid smile.

Cupping his cheek with her free hand, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Although before he had been unable to feel pain because of numbness, now he was unable to feel his hurts because of bliss.

Somehow he managed to find the strength to lift his arm and pull her close, allowing her to deepen her kiss. For a moment he believed he had died without realizing it and was now in an afterlife filled with nothing but delight.

He could have gone on kissing her forever but Sakura did not allow it. After what in Gaara’s perception felt like a brief moment, she pulled back.

The wry chuckle she elicited when he groaned in protest was music to his ears. He kept hold of her hand, cradling against his chest.

“You are severely wounded,” she remarked, doing her best to sound stern. “I think your ankle is broken.”

He nodded. “I think a few ribs are broken too.”

Letting out a sigh, Sakura was on the verge of speaking when the desert made itself known.

The sand rose all around them, covering them in a protective cocoon. It swirled happily, its life-energy resonating deep within Gaara’s core. He narrowed his eyes at it, slightly peeved.

“So this is what you had in mind when you asked me to surrender,” he commented sourly.

A tendril detached itself from the wall of sand and took on the shape of a hand. It hovered in front of his face, and before he could do anything about it, it curled a finger and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

The hand dissipated in front of his eyes and he was certain he could hear laughter somewhere in the background.

“What was that all about?” Sakura asked.

He opened his mouth to explain but was not allowed.

Another tendril of sand separated itself from the cocoon and spiralled around Gaara’s arm. He relaxed his fingers so as to release Sakura’s hand as the sand lifted his limb but he found that another tendril was actually pressing their palms together. After a moment, yet more sand flowed towards their joined hands and twirled its way up Sakura’s arm.

“What’s going on?” she asked, slightly nervous.

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smile. “Wait and see.”

The coarse feel of the sand against his skin was soon replaced by a strange tingling. The coiled tendrils swirling round their linked limbs thickened until it covered them completely. Gaara could feel the desert’s joy as it went about its task and his heart could not help but respond in kind.

After long moments, the sand pulled back slowly and the cocoon around them began to dissolve.

Gaara looked down at the exposed skin of his arm and at the marks left by the desert. They coiled round his arm in a series of abstract shapes and they glinted brightly with chakra.

Relief flooded him, followed quickly by profound fulfilment.

“What does this mean, exactly?” Sakura asked, looking in astonishment at the marks left on her arm.

“It means, my fighting nymph,” he told her with satisfaction, “that we have been chosen.”

She blinked a few times, clearly unable to get her head around the full implication of what he had just said.

When she opened her mouth, to ask another question undoubtedly, Gaara did not give her the chance. He pulled her into his arms and fell backwards with a laugh.

Sakura scolded him, told him to be mindful of his ribs, but he was beyond caring at this point. Gaara looked up at the sky and felt his chest fill with the deep gratitude and exultation of having a wish fulfilled.

– XXXXXXXX –

“Are you certain about this?” Gaara asked.

Sakura had managed to strip him down to his under garments and the state of his body had made her gasp inwardly. But she did her best not to show it. Besides, she would make him right as rain soon enough.

“Completely,” she assured him.

“I can’t swim with my ankle like it is.”

“You won’t have to,” she said, standing next to him.

Grimacing slightly as he slid forward on the rock he was sitting on, Sakura finally got him into the water.

She followed him in, and just as she had promised, she commanded the water to hold him up. He floated with his head above the water without him having to exert himself physically. She had also borrowed some of the heat from the nearby stones to warm the pool, adding to his comfort.

Bruises and abrasions covered him completely, and just like he had predicted, more than one bone was broken. Due to the extent of the damage, she had decided it was best for him to receive the full power of her healing ability. Hence, she had asked him to come into the pool. It was going to take all of her skill to be able to patch him up this time and she was certain it would be slow going.

What came as an unexpected surprise, though, was the desert’s help.

Connected to the water as she always was, Sakura became aware of a greater presence behind it. The pool, with its own life-energies, stood on its own but was also a part of this grander essence.

The desert was the whole that contained the parts.

Sakura smiled and felt tears gather behind her eyes. But she forced them back. The task before her would require all of her concentration.

The marks on her arm began to emit a soft rosy glow mixed with jade as she released her chakra. She felt the environs beyond the pool stir and turn their attention towards her. She was startled when she realized she had suddenly become the focus of a vastness beyond description. It was a rather humbling feeling, making her conscious of the sheer immensity of the desert’s awareness.

Nonetheless, she also realized it was holding back. It approached her tentatively, as if given her the chance to get used to it being there.

She smiled wryly at her own expense: if this was the desert being cautious on her behalf, she did not want to think what it was like to receive its full attention.

This was what Gaara communed with all the time?

Although she did not believe it possible, her admiration for him increased once more and Sakura could not help but marvel at his abilities.

The desert held still, as if waiting for her move.

Sakura felt like if it were looking over her shoulder and assessing her handiwork.

So she continued to release her chakra and to tap into the healing essence of the water. Her energies circled Gaara, evaluated his injuries in order to begin with the most pressing. Once she had settled for the ribs on his right side, she began to work alongside the water in order to heal the bone.

The desert took it as its cue to act. It channelled its life-energy through her and Sakura felt her breath catch. The marks on her arm ignited like flames and the capacity of her healing amplified in a way she would have never thought possible. The mix of her chakra with the desert’s vitality allowed her to heal Gaara’s bones in no time. Before she knew it, she was already moving towards the broken ribs on his left side.

Sakura was speechless, unable to comprehend the level of power running through her. Something within her told her she would never be able to grasp it.

So she concentrated on healing Gaara.

She had used her chakra to lull him into a state of semi-consciousness, offering him as much ease as possible. Whenever he stirred in discomfort as she treated a particularly painful injury, she would bring her face close to his and whisper reassurance in his ear. This seemed to do the trick and he would allow himself to be cradled by the water once more.

Every time she offered him tenderness, Sakura became aware of the desert reacting to her actions. It took her a while to realize it was approval.

She smiled, coming to a realization.

‘That’s what we do, isn’t it? We take care of him.’

The vastness answered her.

Never would have Sakura thought that a simple ‘yes’ could feel so overpowering.

Swallowing with emotion, she focused once more on Gaara. With the desert’s help, she was done a lot sooner. All his wounds had been treated and were no longer hurting him. Even though Sakura could have continued to channel her chakra through him, it was best for him to rest and allow his body to heal at its own rhythm from now on.

As she moved back and commanded the water to let him float on the surface, she was aware of the desert pulling away from her. She felt its absence keenly and felt strangely spacious within herself. Getting used to its assistance would undoubtedly take some doing.

Coming to rest on her stomach next to Gaara, Sakura watched him sleep. She caressed his hair lovingly. Soon, she was also lulled into slumber as the events of the day began to take their toll on her.

Night had fallen by the time she woke to the lovely feel of fingers running up and down her back. Sakura opened her eyes only to find herself the focus of a jade stare.

She smiled at him, lifting slightly so she could kiss him gently on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”

His attention turned inward as he assessed his body. “All I feel is a dull ache, particularly around my middle. But it’s completely manageable. Nothing compared to what I was experiencing before.”

“Good,” she replied. Moving her hand over his ribs, channelling her chakra in order to offer him some relief.

As she did so, a hundred questions about the future flashed through her mind. There were so many things she did not know about the Wind Clan and there were so many things she had to tell Gaara about the rediscovery of her lost power. There were countless details she wanted to share with him about her experience. She was certain he felt the same way concerning the end of the Sand Roam and the desert’s choice.

Before she became overwhelmed, Sakura pulled back from the frenzy of her thoughts. She had the perfect role model in front of her and it was best to follow his example.

Deal with things as they came and take it one step at a time.

Once she was done with his ribs, Sakura turned her face towards him only to find him grinning.

“What is it?” she asked, unsure of the source of his merriment.

“You have finally proved you are a true nymph.”

Sakura arched an eyebrow.

Gaara lifted his hand, bringing it up to stroke her cheek. “You finally deprived me of my clothing, pulled me into the water, and had your way with me.”

Despite herself, she laughed. “So I have.”

“So she admits it,” he countered. “Too bad I was unconscious while you were running your hands all over my body. Now that would have been an experience.”

With a wide smile, Sakura leaned closer to his face, her lips brushing his chin. “I’ll make sure you’re wide awake the next time I have my way with you.”

His jade eyes sparkled with desire. “Well, I’m wide awake now.”

“You’re recovering from full body injuries, not to mention five broken ribs.”

“There’s no time like the present.”

She shook her head at him.

“Am I to become the first person to leave a nymph’s pool without being ravished?” he asked, downcast.

“Who says you’re leaving?”

She leaned down into him and kissed him.

Gaara lifted his arms to pull her closer, returning the kiss deeply, but as Sakura brushed against his side, he winced.

Pulling back, she looked down at him with a deadpan stare. “My point has been duly proven.”

“Fine,” Gaara capitulated. “But you won’t deprive me of this.” He pulled her down and settled her against his him.

Sakura carefully wrapped her arms around him, over and under the water, and they floated together in tangle of limbs, effortlessly suspended.

Despite his bluster, Gaara was soon drifting back to sleep.

Sakura snuggled her cheek against his chest, relishing in the closeness. It made her heart sing and she felt the water all around them respond.

Stirring, Gaara cracked open an eye. “Do you hear them?” he asked drowsily.

“What?”

“The chimes of your joy,” he replied, smiling widely before succumbing once more to slumber.

Sakura lifted slightly to kiss him fully on the lips.

“Yes, I hear them, my love,” she whispered. “But they’re not mine. They’re ours.”

Taking hold of his hand, Sakura linked their marked arms together before turning towards the dark heavens above them. The myriad stars of the endless desert sky shone brightly and she basked in their brightness, all the while listening to the sound of bells ringing in the night.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #GaaSaku Fan Fest 2018 #fanfic #keltoi-oak

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master-duncan · 2 years

Text

A post-mortem on writer's block

Now that my chapter is beta-ready, I'd like to celebrate by sharing my reflections on how exactly I lost two months of writing to frustration and indecision. As you might expect, there's a lot going on, and it gets to the heart of why I'm doing all this in the first place.

Potential TMI below the break.

To start, I ended my last chapter by setting myself up for failure.

Daryl delivered a cruel parting message to Setzer, sabotaging his self-esteem for when he meets Celes in Kohlingen. Picking up this emotional baggage had two serious problems for me. Firstly, I didn't care for it. This was not drama (trauma?) I wanted to explore, and the writing that came from it didn't feel special to me. I didn't want this to be a story of a woman dealing with plenty of her own shit needing to take care of a broken man. Secondly, it broke the dynamic of the sexual fantasy and I couldn't bring myself to make Celes want the things I want her to want after all that.

Unfortunately, I didn't understand these problems until I banged my head against the wall they drove me into for weeks. Even worse, these were the weeks that I had off from work and I *planned* to finish the chapter then. Instead, I faltered again and again as I tried to make this sexy couple do incredibly sexy things together. My characters had the gall to refuse me! It took time to admit to myself the little writing I'd actually accomplished wasn't what I wanted. I had kill my darlings and basically start over. This includes a retcon on Daryl’s parting message. I don't like changing already-posted content, but I'm fucking relieved to do so this time.

Then, of course, we had the holiday season. Work took more of my time once the vacation was done, and family got the rest of it. Not gonna complain - I'm blessed with stable employment and healthy relationships. But as the weeks passed fruitlessly I found myself more and more annoyed at my lack of progress.

Finally, we have the difficulty of writing smut - this brand of smut in particular. And the question I'm not actually gonna answer. Why the fuck am I doing this?

I'm very conscious of my peculiar perspective in this community. Self-conscious, you might say. As a straight(ish?) guy writing for a largely non-male audience, there's a ...complicated... performative aspect to composing a fantasy. I didn't let this bother me so much on previous projects because none of these fantasies involved sexualized power dynamics. I wrote "wholesome" sex. Entombed doesn't allow me that cover.

I worked through a lot of trepidation (and multiple drafts) to get this story up in the first place. Ironically, I found some cover in the first chapter with the understanding that the sex wasn't entirely ok. By emphasizing predatory behavior, I excused myself from the burden of writing something more idyllic, where both participants are fully invested, enthusiastic, satisfied, etc. I'm not dodging that burden this time, and I'm not gonna pretend my imagination isn't exhausted by it. After writing the last sex scene in Burning from Within, I almost felt strange working on the last few chapters knowing that I wasn't building to any more smut. This time I'm glad to know that I can finish my story in relative peace.

So yeah, while it would have been nice to have made progress on writing, I'm actually pretty satisfied with the progress I made thinking about writing - which counts as working on writing! I can use this improved understanding of myself to make better decisions about how I manage my projects in the future. But first, I'm gonna finish this fucking fic :)

#fanfic #writing woes #entombed #about me... kinda

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krokodile · 4 years

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I’m just saying, try being the only openly non-hetero person in a Catholic all-girls school, then tell me how you feel about applying “reclaimed” slurs to yourself.

I wish just one self-identified “queer” would at least fucking think about it from the point of view of someone who did their growing up over twenty years ago. Someone who drafted and re-drafted a suicide note not purely out of the desire to die (although that was always present), but because it felt like the only acceptable way to frame my coming out. That if I felt bad enough about it, it would be seen as acceptable. And I grew up in one of the most gay-populated neighborhoods in the country. If anyone was going to get the message that it was okay, it would’ve been me. And there was still no dodging the ever-present “You can be happy one day, or you can be good” thoughts, even as I wrote dumb stories about the girls I would meet and love someday.

Not enough has changed, but still, so much has. The 90s through now has been a period of rapid, drastic change when it comes to how socially acceptable it is to not be cishet. Most people have support systems, even if their families are complete shit. There’s still a lot of gross media out there, but there’s more than Will & Grace or Depressing Lesbian Indie Drama #0009393112 if you want to feel less alone for a minute, to picture a world you’re allowed to exist in. And that isn’t nothing. You may actually find someone close to how you see yourself represented in media, and you may even get to see them live and be happy! And if you don’t, you know it’s a bullshit trope, not the inevitability of how your life will play out.

And everyone finally has the knowledge that the world is SO MUCH BIGGER than the shitty few people you know right now. Hate on the internet and smart devices all you want, but they do so much good for people who can’t find a home where they live. I’m not saying “Oh it’s so easy for you now.” I know it’s not. I’m just saying reclaiming slurs is framed differently when it’s already more than just a slur. When it’s something positive or radical or revolutionary, a weapon to be used by us, not just against us.

And I’m not saying “the word queer is offensive and should never be used.” I’m not saying “queer politics are too radical and make the rest of Us Gays look bad.” I’m sure as hell not saying “Let’s elect a racist gay man to the highest office in the country.” I’m saying I don’t understand why I have to apply a label to myself purely to avoid being called names (...there’s a little irony here) by people who believe in largely the same causes and ideas and morals I do. (Like...why even would a TERF spend a shitton of time and energy fundraising for and donating to trans- and queer-specific organizations and fundraisers? But, you know, bring that up and suddenly you’re fishing for compliments and praise, not, just, say, pointing out that someone who believes trans women aren’t actually women probably wouldn’t be donating to gofundmes for people in need of top surgery.) I don’t understand how it can be as simple black and white as “only bad, ignorant people don’t use that word.”

Some of us just don’t really want to deal with all the shitty memories that come with it. Some of us don’t feel powerful or liberated using “reclaimed” words. Some of us are just tired of being made to feel shitty and worthless from every single side, including the one we’re on, on top of all the years earlier we got to feel shitty for knowing we were “a queer.”

But then I guess y’all are the only people who decide what constitutes valid trauma or misery.

#personal #gay

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mechagalaxy · 4 years

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John T. Mainer: Personal Log: Sgt "Bubba" Kerzov

Personal Log: Sgt "Bubba" Kerzov

Life is simple as a Sgt in the Meji military. Since the Iron Prince took over control of the military directly, his loyalty purges to remove the progressive elements of the Prince of Flowers returned the officer class to absolute control of all commissioned positions in the Shogunate mecha forces. Lowborns like me can't rise higher than Sgt, but the powers of Sgt rose to include all the actual drafting of plans, logistics requests, duty schedules; you know, the scut work. Our lords and masters kept their delicate hands free for beautiful calligraphy on the after action reports, and the personnel reviews that made or broke careers. As a result, good officers got rare, and bad officers got a lot of us killed.

Chu-i (Lt) Toyo Hinata is a classic example. A bright hyper aggressive academy project who thought warrior spirit was everything. Of course his little man syndrome caused him to risk feedback damage running machines that were too big for his level of competence. He was running a Specter, jade green missile spawning lord of hell, he could rain down spikes of hyper velocity HESH or AP over half an acre with a single trigger pull. Of course he frequently fell flat on his face when trying to run and fire at once, but his speed made those quick attacks devastaating enough he never seemed to understand the inability to dodge meant outside the range you generally died before you found out what your second salvo might have done.

I was running my Slate, a big slow crystal machine that paired ice weapons and missiles to slow and pummel enemies into submission. I had half my Chu-i's weapons and base speed, but I mastered my machine, so tended to be around for the whole of the battle, not just the first shot. I also read the damned briefings, when I didn't write them. Chu-i Hinata did not.

"Bubba, I am taking the front line ahead with me, I have the present mecha in sight, it is running for the cover of those trees. I won't let it get into the forest and lose us. Follow ahead with the rest of the platoon at the best speed those peasant crystal junkers can do" Hinata was so excited, he totally forget such things as call signs, radio procedure, standing orders for contact reports, and....oh yes....what planet we were on. That last one is super important right now"

"Volley Actual this is Volley2-1, suggest you hold position for rest of company, that is a trap" I was almost done saving his life when the little twerp cut me off with his command override.

"Bubba, I am the Chu-i, the officer, appointed by the Son of Heaven himself to lead this platoon, and you will do as I say! I am samurai, and with four niode powered assault mecha cannot show fear in front of one pint sized mecha that looks like a Christmas present. I will catch him in those trees, and you will follow at your best speed. Chu-i Hinata OUT!"

Well, that was that. I whispered the last of my message before switching to the company frequency.

"This is a trap sir. We are on planet Saskatchewan, there are no trees outside of private gardens. That mecha is not running to a forest, he is running to a battalion of Xmas tree mecha" Oh well, time to break in a new Chu-i, assuming I live. I switched to the company frequency and called to the other fresh meat Chu-i running the patrol's other flank. Chu-i Kagayama. Cold bastard, but intense in the manner of a craftsman.

"Setter Actual this is Volley 2-1, contact report" I sent, because dammit, we had radio procedures and call signs for a reason, even if the noble brats were too important to learn them.

"Volley 2-1, send over" Kagayama was cold, focused, and look at that, had put us on tight beam to limit the chances of the enemy catching the signal splash. Bastard might have promise, why did I always get the idiots instead?

"Setter Actual, Volley 6 and front rank in pursuit of present class specialist mecha closing on figures 125 trees expect Volley 6 to make contact with present mecha inside tree perimeter in figures two minutes. over"

I saw the whole of Setters formation perform a parade ground perfect wheel and switch from march order to battle while advancing to flank speed. It wouldn't be in time to keep us from getting corn-cobbed, but the company would be saved. His reply came back, still cold, but focused tighter than a Galaxy Eye.

"Volley 2-1, slow advance, prepare for delaying action. This is Saskatchewan, those are not trees but Santa's 50 ton Xmas trees. Delay them as long as you can, I am inbound with my forces to extract the survivors. The Tai-i is forming a line with the rest of the company to stop them short of the gate. Just buy time Sgt, and keep that little idiot from getting good pilots killed. Setter Actual out"

That was how a professional officer sounded. Now to watch an amateur die. I switched to my beloved leaders own feed. It was glorious, if you had no clue what competent mecha pilots looked like. The clans would view this as slapstick comedy, watching the clowns fall down, a circus of errors. The Shogunate would turn it into high drama, a glorious tale of duty, honour and sacrifice. Honestly, public affairs officers and politicians have killed more Shogunate soldiers through this crap than the civil war and last two invasions by the Illyrian Hegemony combined.

Chu-i Hinata had amazing reaction speed, it allowed him to switch operations so fast you might almost think he had the bandwidth to pilot a 110ton machine, but in battle, the fine coordination broke down, and your reflexes tried to fire, dodge, and move to cover at the same time you re-balanced your shield emitters against the pattern of incoming fire and tweaked your ECM to disguise your actual signature behind your shield footprint so the enemy fired on sensor ghosts not your actual hull, and therefore fragile ass.

"I've got him! He can't run from me, I am the fastest man alive!" Hinata crowed. He was the fastest in Karasano company, and the best shot, but he could only do both in mecha of 80 tons or less at the same time. His Specter was 110 tons. This would be something to watch.

The odd bow topped mecha that looked like a golden Christmas present stopped and opened to reveal a battery of plasma cannons that splashed over Hinata's fire shields to little effect. He unloaded a swarm of Predator missiles that shattered the little mecha into bronze gold chunks and caused him to cheer. It also caused the trees surrounding him to grow taller, and begin to spin, each layer alternating in direction to gyro stabilize and bring a battery of weapons to bear.

Tandem Bombs lashed out from four enemy mecha, to of them decended on individual mecha in Hinata's line, ramming an Ignus and Apatotron to a halt, one fell just behind the sprinting Notos of Sgt Jawinder, but it didn't matter, the other wide forked and fell on the whole line like the hammer of Thor and turned all the mecha save Hinata's own well shielded machine into shut down or outright destroyed scrap. Hinata tried to salvo another save of penetrators as he shuffle stepped to avoid the incoming missiles. He had the bandwidth to do either well, but not both. His front legs crossed, but his forward speed was such that it caused his mecha to perform half a somersault, ending up turtled on its back, ass to the enemy, legs spread in the air.

His predator salvo fired, even though he was on his back with the missile ports closed, so they detonated in the bay, the belly blast plates vented the reaction out the belly of his beast, but they gutted it on the way through, shutting it down. The Xmas tree closed and casually fired a Candy Cane suppository right up Hinata's proffered posterior. That is where we found him. Legs in the air, candy cane up the ass.

We pulled back to the gate at Saskatchewan base Moose Jaw. Let the Clans deal with this crap. Whole forests of Xmas trees are not something house units are up to, especially not with noble dimwits in command. I can't wait for Christmas to be over, and it to be safe to patrol again. Even the pirates are staying indoors right now.

John T Mainer 28840

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