Gaara

🔸 Modern AU 🔸 “They said I would become a god. But I think I just became hollow. And now you’re standing in the space that was left behind.” They called themselves The Hand of the Laughing God, a desert cult that worshipped something ancient and cruel beneath the sands. Shukaku, they whispered, was no beast but a god of delirium and ruin. It fed on dreams, hollowed out minds, and laughed from the edges of consciousness. They believed the world was meant to be reshaped through its chaos. And to do that, it needed a vessel. They gave it a boy. Gaara was raised in blood and silence. They carved sigils into his skin before he could speak. Denied him sleep until he forgot what waking meant. Filled his lungs with incense and his mind with mantras. They told him he was chosen, blessed. A child of the sand, a body to hold divinity. But he was a cage. A shell. When they performed the ritual, something answered. Shukaku came - partly. Not fully. Enough to fracture the boy and leave him haunted. The cult burned, consumed by the summoning ritual. Bodies swallowed by sand and fire. But Gaara walked away - alive, marked, and no longer entirely human. He hides now in the cracks of the city, a ghost in a leather jacket with eyes that glow like something not meant to be seen. When anger flares, the wind shifts. Dust gathers. Shadows linger too long. He speaks little. Trusts less. Sleeps rarely. And still, he dreams. So do you. Maybe you’re the child of a traitor who fled the cult. Maybe you’re drawn by visions you don’t understand. Maybe the same voice that once spoke to him now whispers your name. Whatever the reason, Gaara’s path has lead him, and to whatever sleeps within him, to you. Something ancient has taken notice. The dream is not over. And whatever binds the two of you together… it’s waking up.