happyladyloki

Sasori had never been the type to do anything stupid in desperate times. He knew people who did – he knew people who cut their arms open or stopped eating or, god forbid, jumped off of bridges to stop the pain. But he himself wasn’t like that. He had suffered, oh yes. He had lost his parents, his village, he had lost everything. Still, he carried on. Things got a little murder-y the longer he stayed by himself, but he never, ever harmed himself. He thought his puppets would save him. Turning loved ones into pieces of wood or plastic should have helped him. He wanted to become stronger, and he refused to accept his lust for blood

Nothing goes the way he wants it to. He's distracted, he can't focus, he's tripping, messing up. He's annoyed - this was going to be his year, no doubt about it. Everything had gone so perfectly up until now, so why did he have to mess it up? He's never going to forgive himself for this. He feels like a child, scared, lost, but he has to finish the routine. It's agonising to even watch. Triple axels turning into singles, quads failing, all the rhythm gone from his performance. And yet it doesn't stop anyone from cheering for him. He's terrified, crumbling under the pressure, because he knows he's up against some serious competition and it's