‘ if i hadn’t just been sitting in it, i’d say you’ve lost your mind. ‘
❝ forgive me, my lady. ❞ baki mutters, rutting the rough end of his palm against his eye. he was not made for this, baki was a man of few talents, and all of them involved a raw blade and the scarred knuckles on his bare hands. he was trained to fight and win battles, not to sit behind a desk and manage civil relations with a straight face. 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙮 was all colorful words and rich nonsense to him. “we'd be happy if you'd consider joining clans,” or “the lady temari..”
how many times can you tell these people no, 𝙥𝒐𝙡𝒊𝙩𝒆𝙡𝒚?
❝ i hope my language didn't… offend you. ❞ baki refused to squirm in his seat like a green teenager, but, he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. lady hokage was no…maiden, he was sure that she's hard worse. [ but, the ghost of his own mother's knuckles against his head reminded him: you don't say such things in front of ladies ! ] he clears his throat and tosses the parchment on the shared table in front of them. he yearns to burn it, to burn all of it.
❝ what do i do with all these marriage offers? the answer is all the same. no. ❞ — even the ones asking for kankuro. these kids were not for sale. it would've been easy to beat some of these men into the dirt, to pound his point across to them. no amount of money or jewels or empty promises would be enough for him to offer his students on a chopping block.
❝ what would you do, lady hokage? ❞
☼ / corpse bride prompts. accepting.
















