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arcadejohn127-9 · 3 years

Note

ALSO- I have a request! Brothers (+royals if you want) reacting to an MC who is extremely affectionate once they like someones- gives hugs, praises often, gives gifts, does their best to help when they can- but if any of this affection is returned they cry. Hard. Because they're emotionally constipated and any affection or love they receive overwhelms them- this also embarrasses them extremely-

Damn.... didn't think I'd feel called out by a prompt request XD it seems my time has come!

I'm guessing royals are Diavolo and barbatos so I added them but if you ever request again and someone you wanted wasn't here, feel free to comment and I'll make sure to add them

Brothers + Diavolo & barbatos with an overly affection MC with issues

Lucifer:

He grew use to your affection ways

The words of praise when you notice he finished a work load

Or when you'd pat his head when he was tired

At first he wondered why you would handle or touch him likes he's a fragile doll but he grew to love how gentle you were

Subconsciously he'd lean his head down whenever he completed a task expecting a head pat

Even if you weren't there but if he's caught he'll just pretend he was tired

Lucifer wasn't always the most affectionate, especially as he rarely shows how much he genuinely loves the people around them

He decided to return the gesture, you recently got a high grade in a class you were struggling in

He patted your head, giving it a light ruffle

"You did good, you're improving alot - it's very promising."

Didn't expect you to start crying, aggressively shoving away your tears

"what's wrong? Did something-"

"I just- this is embarassing- you patted my head and people don't really do that for me and I just-"

"Ah, I see, then I shall do it more often."

"even in public?"

He was never a public man, wanting to get his softer side hidden in the protection of his soul and the walls surrounding his room

But here you were, crying because he simply caressed your cheek

He wants you to be happy and feel as loved as he does

So he'll happily push his walls down for you

"if it means this much to you, then yes but let's keep it appropriate."

Mammon:

"How's my handsome super model?! Did it go well? Aww you look tired, let's get you rested, okay?"

He's so in love

No one has ever made him feel this mooshy and love sick and he's ANCIENT

He's use to his brothers always insulting him - he likes a good tease and making a rude remark about each other but they tend to push it

They hit his Insecurities and think he can handle it because they're demons

But he wasn't always

Then you came along, giving him head pats and words of praise

Always standing up for him

He fell for you so quickly and so hard

He basically turns into a puppy when he's with you

When you left with Satan to get groceries he had to be forced to not go with you, waiting at the stairs for you to come back

As soon as Satan left with even your bags included, he came bolting for you

Leaping into your arms and squeezed you tight, insisting he didn't miss you but just got bored

The way he's nuzzling your cheek says otherwise

When you began crying he immediately panicked

"Did Satan do something to ya?! I swear I'll beat-"

"I'm just not use to others being as affectionate as I am back to me - it's okay."

"Huh?! Well I guess the greatest demon of all time has to be that person, that's me! Don't forget it, okay?! I'm going to smother you."

Mammon is already a touchy person but knows to be respectful, since that day his hands are always on you

Either holding your hand, touching your shoulder, petting your hair or just Hugging you

Levithan:

Levithan isn't one to give or receive when it comes to affection

He tends to get overwhelmed by just a head pat and gets embarassed if his fingers accidentally brush against yours

You're an overly affectionate person

He's a simple man who needs self worth

It's definitely a good duo

You've learned to be more vocal about your praises and affections, still testing the waters with physical touch

But from time to time he'll ask to get a head pat if he's really proud of himself

Has made you call him your little pog champ

"Levi are you- oh sorry you're streaming- I'll just leave these here."

He was confused until he saw the section dish filled with different snacks with a energy drink in the middle

He almost teared up

"No! Stay with me, they'll like you!"

In an act of no thoughts and boldness, he pulled you into his lap

You fell awkwardly and was half straddling half on his side

As soon as you got comfortable you hide your face In his neck forcing back tears

Not wanting to cry on stream

"You're so sweet, levi, I'm sure your followers can agree."

He literally short circuited

Hiding his face in your shoulder as he got flustered

"You're sweeter than me, you're always being nice to me - I really lo- like you for that."

Anyone who watched that stream now ships you - the non believers didn't believe all the stories he told about you but now they had physical proof

That stream was re-upload so many times with comps filled with him gushing about you

Levithan is determined to make sure you never see them but it's too late and you cried with joy in your room

Next time you saw him you kissed his cheek and he immediately melted

Did kiss your cheek back though but did it so quick and harsh that you stumbled backwards

Satan:

Someone being gentle to him????

Someone who doesn't keep away from his because of his sin????

Who??? What??!!

You're the who! he was SHOCKED you were so happy to get close to him and just treat him so kindly

He made a theory on the Devildom detectives group that you're actually an angel but it backfired by demons just telling him he's got feelings for you

He does but he didn't expect to get called out on a whole forum

"You're really smart, thanks for always helping me with my studies - I've found It alot easier to study and remember all my notes now, you're a good teacher!"

He's so smitten with you

You could be saying the most disgusting or insulting thing and he'd still smile and nod

He needed help getting food for this secret but really not so secret pet cat and you gladly accepted to help him

When you two were just spending time together in his room and when suddenly picked up his cat

You didn't think too much of it but grinned when he booped the cats nose onto yours

"thank you for being so kind to me- it means alot."

the cat was like you; overly affectionate so it didn't surprise you when it started gently pawing at your face and giving you little kisses

"I feel embarrassed by admitting this so I'm letting Chaos show how I feel."

He avoided looking at you

It would be for the best as you started crying, taking the cat from his hold and kissing it's head repeatedly

"and that's how I feel about you trying to move through your discomfort and be open with me."

His cheeks are BURNING

Holds your hand throughout the rest of the hang out

Asmodeus:

You're being gentle and affection despite Everyone perceiving him as a sex hungry annoyance?

You're immediately his favourite - sorry Solomon

You always understood his protectiveness over his appearance

Fixing his hair and pushing back stands if you ever pet it

You didn't need to but you always told him you washed your hands before touching his face

You always did these simple things to make him feel at ease

But he loved your touch

No matter any comment he makes; he adores you and just being able to have these tender moments with you

He knew you were special to him when you walked in on him

Barely awake, hair messy, no makeup or moisturizer - he didn't look even the slightest bit appealing

And just smiled, looking at him no differently even when his voice came out tired and croaky

"You're really pretty even when you just wake up, it's so unfair - what's your secret?"

"because it's me, darling! I always look good~"

Internally, he was freaking out about how you liked him at what he deemed - his most unattractive state

So it only made sense he became more touchy and grew closer to you

"are you sure I look good in this? I know you're very up to date with fashion."

"You look stunning, I haven't seen a bad look on you yet, perhaps your charm is just as high as mine."

He was holding your hips, smiling as you both looked in the mirror

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning on your shoulder

"I think you look good all the time, you're just amazing like that."

You tried to hide your tears but he could see them, immediately asking you what's wrong

"Nothing- I just- that means alot coming from you and you're always being so affection towards me....its really nice."

He just hugs you tighter, smiling

"I just treat you how you treat me, you're a real angel."

Beezlebub:

This guy is worried about so many things

He's scared of hurting you

He's worried if he gets carried away with touching you he'll make you uncomfortable and his gluttony will act up; wanting more of your tender touch until he feels full

The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable or you feel forced to be affectionate to him because he could throw a fit

He's always ashamed of his hunger tantrums

But when he does do affection it's either carrying you or holding your hand

But was so happy whenever you cuddled hi against him or when you gave him praise

He could spend the whole day with you running your fingers through his hair, telling him he's a good demon and that he means something to you

"Can you finish this for me? I'm not feeling that hungry right now."

You offered your bowl to Beel, he happily took it

As you two spent time with each other he noticed you eyeing some of the more sweeter things set out on the table

He gently pushed it towards you

"Eat if you want it, I'll share."

You waved your hand, not wanting to take food from him

"I'm just snack-ish, I can't eat a meal right now."

You knew how hungry he could get and didn't want to leave him peckish

You knew that small feeling could easily turn into something bigger

But he just nudged it closer to you

"You eat what you want, I'll have what you don't finish."

You finally agreed, knowing he was insisting on you to eat with him

He patted your head, smiling as he watched you eat

"are you sure you won't still feel hungry?"

"you make me feel full, it soothes another type of hunger in me, it's nice."

He grabbed your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it, he couldn't stop smiling as you just looked at him in surprise

You finally grinned, tearing up and shook your head, you leaned against him and continued eating

Gripping his hand tighter as you pushed back your tears

Belphegor:

He was spoilt

Beel was always looking after him, helping him get ready for school and drying his hair, carrying him around when he was too tired to walk

And you were only fueling his spoilt nature

You always showered him in affection

Petting his hair whilst he laid his head on your lap, combed his tail, told him he looked cute

"My precious little belphie, are you feeling okay? I noticed you were struggling to sleep today at lunch."

Whilst he believed he looked intimidating with his heavy bags and sleepy grin

You found him adorable, treating him like a sweet innocent boy on those special nights of just you two cuddling

It's been a long time since he's felt innocent

You were always checking in on him

Making him feel special and cared for

He was a soft mess in your hands

"Hold me more, your hands feel so nice~"

He placed his hands on yours, making you gently squish his cheeks

"Don't you wanna cuddle?"

He raised a brow, a smug smile growing on his face

"it seems you want to."

"we don't have to-"

"If you wanna be held just ask, I'm more than happy to hold you."

He wrapped his arms around you, shifting his position and buried his face into your chest, humming as your hands ran through his hair

He gave you a small squeeze

"It feels good to be the one hugging you, you're always so comfy~"

He began murmuring how much he loves this time with you, drifting to sleep as he praised you, letting himself mindlessly go on about how wonderful and sweet you are until he started to snore

You let your tears fall

Holding him closer as you softly thanked him for his words

He just hugged you tighter in his sleep, his smile growing

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

This man is TOUCH STARVED

the fact you're unafraid to be with him and around him is already amazing but you freely hold his hand and pat his head

He thinks he's knocked his head and been taken to the celestial realm

People are intimidated by his title as prince and having you so care free in his company is new for him

So of course he enjoys how affectionate you are!

He embraces all your touches and praise!

He's even had you sitting on his lap during meetings, letting you hug him after a tiring day of studying

"You did great today, I really felt your passion for this new project, I think the students will really enjoy it!"

He gets so happy everytime you even look his way

Your smile alone fuels him for the whole day

"Meet me in the castle today, there's something I need you to do for me."

You agreed, not thinking much of it; most likely a new update on the school fair

What you didn't expect was to be greeted by shopping bags and gift boxes and even a human sized teddy bear with demon horns, you tried to ignore them as Diavolo came jogging down the steps

"What did you need me for?"

"I want you to see what you like, I bought as much as I could before Barbatos stopped me, I hope they're up to your liking."

You were speechless

You felt as if you touched the gifts you wouldn't be able to hold back; you were excited to see what he got but you didn't want to seem too excited

"Please, go ahead - it's all yours unless something is not up to your liking."

You finally went through the shopping bags; there was clothes, products, jewelry, shoes and all other sorts of items

You hugged the giant close to your chest, choking back on your tears

"thank you-"

"No need to thank me, you're always so kind to me I just wanted to return the favour."

Barbatos:

You were a like a breath of fresh air, someone he could just go to

He can unwind and be rewarded for his efforts and others normally don't notice

Whilst his lord was always praising him, it felt different with you

It felt so joyful

You would brush through his hair, always thank him even if he's just doing his job and always seem to be in awe at what he does

He'll never forget the gloves you gave him, sleek and a perfect fit with a cursive 'B' stitched to the edge - they were enchanted to warm up whenever he got cold

"Wow! You prepared all this?! That must of taken you ages! You're really amazing, Barb."

"I'm simply doing my job but your praise makes it all worth it."

Often invites you to the castle for tea

He'll make any excuse to have you come see him; the prince wants to talk, he wants a hand with a recipe, he needs an outsider's opinion on something

Whatever he can come up with; he will use it

You might as well just stay in one of the guest bedrooms because you're always coming to the castle

Speaking of excuses; today Barbatos decided to thank your lovely behaviour

Convincing you to come to the castle and meet him in the dining hall

"I saw you eyeing some recipes whilst helping me in the kitchen so, I made you them AND wrote down how I did it exactly so you can make them any time you like."

"I- you didn't have to do that! Thank you for this, they look delicious."

"I always wanted to give you this."

You couldn't even ask what it was

He already held it up for you to see

It was a box of gloves with your the first letter of your name stitched onto the edge

They were heat up gloves!

"I thought you'd appreciate your own as they'll always be handy but the gesture of matching with someone you're close to is very appealing."

He helped you put the gloves on, pinching the tip of your fingers to make sure they fitted properly

He held your hand, admiring how it looked in his

You couldn't stop a few tears forming, smiling

You felt abit silly crying over heat up gloves but you couldn't help it

"I want to match with you more often, perhaps one day it'll end up being a ring."

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solomonish · 3 years

Text

selfless (to a fault?) [nowdateables]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships.

brothers here!

Diavolo

So. Diavolo might not notice right away. It’s not ignorance! He’s just very busy, and public appearances are important to keep up, so one of the ways he keeps up with you happens to be exactly what you have trouble accepting. Large bouquets sent to the House of Lamentation when you’re there, a word sent out to any of his staff out where you may be to make your life easier however possible (Mammon tries to tag along with you all the time, hoping to hear the magic words: “His highness has graciously waived the fee for all exchange students’ purchases today!”) - and he’s not even there to see the way your smile looks a little more like a grimace, or the way you stare uncomfortably at the little gift.

He seems to love that you are so willing to try and help him out - even if there isn’t much you can do, since he handles a lot of sensitive documents and information. But, considering he’s so lonely, when it comes to reciprocating he sort of follows your lead?

He knows, on a surface level, how to be in a relationship, but considering you’re a human AND he doesn’t have a lot of interpersonal relationships for practice...he sort of follows your lead, and hopes your way of giving love is the same as your way of receiving.

You’ll have to bring it up to him, which is a nerve-wracking experience on its own, eased only by the fact that you know Diavolo has done his best to make sure you KNOW you can bring up any issues you have. He is very good at opening his ears to you and helping you problem solve, and when dealing with the things he cares about (yes, YOU) he is very direct about problem solving.

The moment you stand before him, Diavolo notices the way you fidget with your hands and almost refuse to look at him directly. He immediately stops what he’s doing, putting everything down and turning in his seat. If he’s at his desk, he gestures for you to come to his side and asks you directly - “What’s wrong?”

It seems terrible to directly accuse the prince of wanting to manipulate you, so instead you ask, “What did you want in exchange for those gifts?” And for a moment, he does not know what you are talking about. First of all, WHICH gifts, there’s so many, and secondly did he come across as wanting something in return other than your happiness?

No matter what he was doing before, he will set aside all of the time he needs to at least start to communicate to you that he has no ulterior motives with his gifts to you. If you’d like him to stop with such blatant displays of affection, he will, but it’s more important to him that you know he is only trying to communicate how he feels when he cannot do it directly.

Barbatos

This is a relationship where you might have to bring it up before you even start dating. Either that or he WILL get a hint before then. He’s a butler! Not only is he normally serving other people, he is a master at standing in the back and watching people. He notices the way you awkwardly hold your tea cup after he gives it to you, or decline anything that he offers you when given the chance. It just comes up by nature of who he is.

Before he is interested in pursuing a relationship, he simply brushes it off as the unfamiliarity of having someone wait on you. Perhaps you’re particularly independent, or you just never really are in a situation where someone waits on you like he does. Either way, it isn’t really much of his business.

But...it is very obvious in a relationship. He just...defaults to helping others. Sure, he knows how to separate work and his personal life (though, to be fair, there is not much of a “personal life” there with how much time work takes up, so maybe that needs to be revisited. some day...) but even with that separation he enjoys providing solutions for people and helping out. It brings him joy to help make your life a little easier if he can help, and it’s something he’s good at.

Still, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he definitely doesn’t want to make you think that he’s treating you the way he treats people as a job. If he wanted to, he could most likely peer into different timelines or even into your past, try to figure out what’s bothering you...but he knows better than to creep into places you haven’t explicitly told him you want him. Besides, communication is important, and this seems a prime opportunity to put that to use.

So he asks you one day when you visit him at the castle, after he notices your hesitation to respond to him when he offers to help you with something you were complaining about. “Why does it make you uncomfortable when I offer my assistance to you?”

You freeze for a moment. “Wouldn’t you be able to find that out on your own?” “Would you like me to?” “...no, not really.”

He isn’t one to press you for information, or to ask a thousand times if you know he’d never use any of his attempts to make your life in the Devildom easier against you. Barbatos will listen to what you have to say intently and do his best to mesh to what you think you’re most comfortable with. He does intend to help you accept help as much as he can, but it’ll be so subtle you’ll hardly even notice. With the little amount of time he already gets with you, he’s already practiced in making the most of it - what’s one more little task to the greatest butler in all the realms?

Solomon

See, this is a relationship that doesn’t necessarily depend on the whole “acts of kindness” thing. (Like, it does to the same degree any relationship does, but considering I think you’d both be pretty independent people and the helping each other aspect normally comes from things you’re doing together anyway. If that makes sense.)

Still, he does notice how...surprised you look when he surprises you with a flashy spell he learned, or when he hears you complaining about your course load or Lucifer’s expectations for you. You decline every single offer he gives you to help, and you never look as happy as he hopes you will when he shows you his spells. (Depending on what stage you are at in the relationship, how is he supposed to impress you if you never want him to do things for you !!!)

However, he is accustomed to holding information close to his chest, and he isn’t always the best at asking about people’s emotions. So, even though sometimes you jump at the opportunity to help him collect ingredients for potions or find one book in massive libraries or craft things for enchantments and spells but you REFUSE to let him help you study for a class he could pass without even listening to one of the lectures, he silently suffers and hopes you’ll breach the subject on your own.

Which you do. Kinda. He’s trying to convince you to let him help you with paying back the debts of one of Mammon’s schemes he dragged you into - figuring two bodies on the job will get it done faster and, in turn, he can have more time with you later - but he makes the mistake of rationalizing it with, “Well, since you help me out so much, maybe I could-”

“Don’t! Don’t...say that. We don’t owe each other anything.” You give him a tight smile that’s OBVIOUSLY fake. “I help you because I want to.”

“And I want to help you. Why won’t you let me? What’s up?”

The conversation is...uncomfortable. Solomon isn’t the best at handling vulnerability. But he doesn’t judge you for a second, and he gets the fear that you have in the back of your mind. Especially since people keep telling you not to trust him and that he’s shady...this relationship is pretty dependent on a thorough trust between the two of you. But he doesn’t mind proving himself a little more, so long as you’ll be gracious enough to give him a chance.

Simeon

Simeon is really good at vibing out somebody’s boundaries and comforts. Call it angelic intuition, but he also has a feeling about you that makes a little too much sense when he notices how you shy away from any offers of assistance.

A little thinking, and suddenly the way you stretch yourself thing to help the brothers at any moment makes a lot of sense too. (And, of course, he is pleased to know everyone considers everyone to be family. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t two main causes!)

Angels naturally want to ease the strife of the humans they come across, and even though Simeon knows that it might make you uncomfortable, he finds himself unknowingly putting you in awkward positions with how often he reaches out to make your life easier.

Bringing you homework that you missed, being your escort when the brothers are busy, buying you lunch just because - he’s a bit of a sweetheart and it’s in his blood to do these things, and he only remembers how it hurts you when you uncomfortably shift before taking the only option he’s given you - accept what you don’t want.

He sits you down one day, letting you know it’s bound to be a healing conversation between the two of you. Fortunately, he has a knack for making you feel comfortable and safe, so he has a slightly easier time getting you to pen up to him.

The moment you even hint at him having ulterior motives, you feel stupid. Even when he assures you that it’s alright, saying it out in the open feels...wrong. That doesn’t shake the feeling or ease your fears, but it does make addressing things a bit easier.

Simeon has no problem helping to draft a plan for re-affirming your trust in genuine love and kindness. He also inserts himself directly into the plans - what, you thought he wouldn’t? Simeon will remind you what it feels like to be cared for with no expectation of return. don’t get him wrong though, he’ll take a lil kiss or something if u want...

Luke

You can’t say no to him. Unfortunately, he bakes a LOT and he is all too eager to be your personal guard dog guardian angel.

When you do decide to let him know why you look so uncomfortable when he tries to do something for you (giving him an abridged version, of course) - and he, in all his energy, does not seem to get the hint to STOP ASKING - you can see him literally just chill out. One minute he’s vibrating with pure energy and the next he’s just. Still.

He half wants to get indignant on you, but he knows that’s not a good response. Instead he just sort of stands there, watching you for a minute, until he blurts out with zero grace - “What would I even have to do that for??”

He realizes it’s a terrible response the moment it comes out of his mouth, but you seem to be okay with it if your awkward chuckle is anything to go with. Luke starts pouting just a little bit, more upset with himself that he’s completely failing at handling this situation. “I’m just nice to you because you’re nice and you deserve it. There’s nothing else to it.”

He’s a sweet boy, and he doesn’t wanna lose his favorite taste-tester. He’s got the spirit.

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need-a-fugue · 3 years

Text

Trustworthy (Chapter One)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating... and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slowburn)

Warnings: Character death, many naughty words, and soooo much angst

A/N: It would seem that my newfound Pedro Pascal obsession isn’t going to let up any time soon, so I decided to just dive headfirst into some Frankie-heavy Triple Frontier fic. It doesn’t help that @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo planted a seed (quite a while ago) by asking for a story where reader breaks down on that fateful mission only to be comforted by our favorite Fish. I um... may have taken that a little far and now there’s this whole multi-chapter thing happening...

Here’s the thing… you’ve been in shit before. You’ve been shot at, even took a bullet yourself not too long ago. You’ve seen people die – some bad, some good, some deserving, some not. You held your own partner in your arms, desperately trying to stanch the flow of blood from his shorn neck before finally letting him go after he expelled one final, wet breath. You’ve killed people – a sicario outside of Bogota, two – possibly three – gang members in a shootout in Albuquerque, some dumb kid who’d been given a little bit of cash to stand guard outside a lab in Juarez.

You’ve seen tragedy, felt it, lived it, dreamed about it on an endless loop, even in your waking hours. You’ve caused it – or so you’d been told by the weeping mother of the boy in Mexico. You’ve denied it, denied that what had happened was actually tragic at all. Denied it to survive.

But you can’t deny what you’re in right now, the tragedy of having a plan go to shit in too many ways to count. The tragedy of nearly succumbing to your absolute worst fear in the world and going down in a sputtering damn helicopter. The tragedy of more lives being taken, even those of fucking Lorea and his men causing a reluctant burn at the back of your throat. Because you can’t stop seeing his children arriving home to find their worst nightmare laid out in blood and smoke, flames licking round all they’ve ever known and loved.

Children. Tom has children too. Had. Tom, who’s now being carried down the side of a mountain in a makeshift body bag, haphazardly descending with his men by his side… just ahead of you, just in your line of sight. Still leading the way, even in death.

Maybe that’s why this feels so different. This particular tragedy. Because you’re still in it. You can’t walk away and deny, shower the telling grime from your skin, bury the reality of death and failure and fear beneath a six pack of beer and a shitty TV dinner alone in your dark apartment.

And, oh, your apartment… or any apartment really, as you’re not exactly likely to return to your post in Colombia after all this. To go anywhere right now with heat and running water… and a bed. Your mind reels just thinking about it.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t slept in days… many days. Haven’t eaten much either, each and every MRE and stale protein bar sitting heavy in your throat, choking, suffocating, blocking your breaths and words alike.

“You gotta eat,” Frankie had said to you just this morning, whispered in your ear as you carefully picked your way over and around the sharp, loose rocks in your path. “We gotta keep moving,” he muttered, the deep hum of his voice sounding less like the balm you’d come to know and more like just another resonance caught up in the icy, bitter wind. He had pressed a bar to your palm, his hand warm despite the surrounding cold, and a forced lightness filled his tone as he declared, “Need your strength or we won’t make it to the coast.”

You hadn’t even looked up to meet his gaze, instead continuing forward, glare directed down at the treacherous ground beneath your feet. “I don't really see that happening anyway,” you said as you shoved the bar deep into your pocket.

His stride halted then, leaving him standing tall and motionless as you swept idly past. But his pause was enough to make you falter, to make you turn and glance back up at him. You hadn’t even realized what you said – not really, not fully – until you took in the look on his face. That was enough – the sadness, the grief, the guilt that clouded his eyes and pinched his lips – to make you retrieve the bar from your pocket and choke down the whole damn thing in two monstrous bites.

Maybe it’s that. That look Frankie had given you just as the sun began to rise. The same look that sits on the faces of the other men even now, hangs heavily on them as they soldier on, carrying not only the load of money, but the body of their friend.

Maybe it’s being here with them as they move with purpose and the kind of fluidity that comes from too many years of practice. Practice at navigating dangerous situations. Practice at steering away from the fear and pain, sorrow and guilt that stare them right in the face, all to ensure they might survive the day.

Maybe it’s watching them move through that horrid fog that – you know – anyone else would so easily get lost in. All while reluctantly admitting, if only to yourself, that it’s the same fog you’ve been unable to effectively cut through for days.

Maybe that’s what has you feeling like you’re walking a tightrope balanced precariously between an understandable sort of disappointment and dread… and a overwhelming, blinding despair. Maybe this feels different because it isn’t just yourself you’d need escape to gain distance from this tragedy. It’s all of them as well. And you can’t very well escape the very men you need to help you through.

They climb the mountainside, traversing rocks and heaps of remaining snow that never fail to send you slipping and careening. They catch you as you slide, helping you along as they hoist bag after bag – your own contribution of carrying just your pack and one duffel seeming paltry in comparison – up and then down the stony inclines. They hand you off with care, always keeping you close, making sure that if one of them moves ahead, another is still left by your side. They carry you almost as much as they carry the money. As much as they carry Tom.

Tom. You’d only known him a handful of days… weeks? How long ago was it that you followed Santiago back to the States to meet his reinforcements? At this point, you no longer have a clue when this whole fucking mess began. A lifetime ago at least. It seems as though you’ve known these men for an entire lifetime on top of that.

Tom. Well, he’s arguably the one you got to know least. And not just because he’s been dead for… however long it’s been now. No. He was just… quiet. Reserved. Distrustful, truth be told. But, hell, you could hardly blame him for that. After all, he was considered the leader of these men. The one tasked – above all others – with getting them in and out safely. The one who would wear the most blood on his hands should any of them fall.

And from the loyalty the others showed – and the stories they shared in both forced low tones and laughter-pocked croons – you could tell that he was a good leader. A trusted leader. A loved leader. And nothing he did on this mission was ever going to change that in the eyes of anyone here.

No, you hadn’t gotten to know him well. But damn if it didn’t still hurt to see him go. To peer over Ben’s shoulder – bent and broken and wracked with sobs – and into Tom’s empty, lifeless eyes all those days ago. So damn many days ago. To watch the brothers fight over the top of his body, sidestepping his corpse to throttle each other and throw blame to lessen the grief. To sit with Benny for the hour or so after – after helping him wrap up his friend with care – as his uncharacteristic silence slinked about you both in a smothering cloud of despair.

Ben, who had been the most jovial and talkative and… bright of all. He had quite literally welcomed you into the fold with open arms, a bit drunk and a bit concussed from a fight he insisted he won just hours before meeting you. He refused your handshake when Garcia introduced you, leaning in to envelope you in a tight hug instead, and then demanding to buy you a drink, despite the fact that you’d been nursing one while waiting for them to arrive. “Pretty lady like you shouldn’t ever have to shell out her own money for a drink,” he’d said with a grin and a wink.

You might’ve rolled your eyes, might’ve told him, pass amid a chiding glare. But before you could say a word, his brother smacked him upside the head, giving a disappointed eyeroll that would’ve outdone yours tenfold, and held out a hand to shake, a deep-tenor, “Don’t mind him, and nice to meet you,” putting you immediately at ease and making it utterly clear who the Miller brothers were. Will was the politic adult, professional and well-mannered. And Benny was simply a ball full of harmless fun.

Until now, that is. Now – you can see even as his slumped body fades away into the tree line below – Ben has become little more than sorrow and sinew.

A crunching tumble of pebbles sounds suddenly in your periphery, tearing you from your spiraling thoughts. You look up to see Santiago looming to your right, effectively blocking the sliver of sunlight that remains peeking through the dusk-hued sky. “You okay, bonita?” he asks, the tone of his voice and wrinkle to his brow as he looks down at you serving to snap you back to the here and now. Here. Now. Shivering in the cold as the four of you settle in on the side of some damn mountain, having just bid farewell to yet another member of your party.

Your gaze falls from his face almost as quickly as it had jerked up to meet it just a breath of a moment ago. You shake your head and let out a sigh. “I should’ve gone with him,” you utter simply. “I thought you’d been joking about how bad his Spanish was, but…”

He snorts out a laugh, and the corner of your mouth raises in a slight, crooked smile. “Yeah, well,” he starts, dropping down to take a seat on the hard earth beside you. “With how well you’ve been hiking through these hills, he’d probably have ended up carrying you like a backpack.” He gives you a shit-eating grin, teasing brow raised high. “We’re hoping to get out of here sometime this decade. Don’t need your ass slowing us down any more.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, the taunting cadence just barely cutting through the deep rumble of his laugh.

His hand falls to your knee, palm sliding side to side in a comforting stroke before he tightens his fingers over your patella and gives you a bit of a shake. “I’m only kidding,” he states, as though you didn’t already know. “You’ve been doing great. Really.”

You issue out a quick snort, a thick, incredulous breath kicking a puff of steam up into the frigid air.

“I mean it,” he tells you, turning a serious glance your way. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

“It’s not what any of us signed up for,” you interrupt pointedly.

“Yeah. But… DEA doesn’t exactly train people the same as us,” he intones, giving a nod towards the other men. “I know you’ve never been… exposed to this kind of shit.”

You wrinkle your nose and squint as you turn to look up at the mountain you’d just somehow managed to traverse. “Yeah. This has been some shit.”

He lets out another small laugh – short and fleeting – before pulling his hand from your knee and settling into the silence surrounding you. Ahead, Frankie and Will build up a rock barrier around Tom’s body, a protective cocoon for the night lest any animals come by. You’d all noticed – especially today as the sun came out in the afternoon and beat heavily down on your backs – that he’d begun to rot. To smell. And as much as everyone wanted to still hold him close, no one really wanted his steadily decaying body stinking at their sides as they attempted to sleep tonight.

Once they’re done with their makeshift mausoleum, the two men move across the way and begin digging through their packs for food. “Frankie mentioned that you hadn’t been eating,” Santi mutters from your right as both of your eyes remain trained on the men working before you.

You shrug. “I’ve eaten as much as anyone else.”

A tiny chuckle ripples through him, drawing a confused glare from you. And his smile only widens when he sees the uncertainty painted across your face. “He likes you, bonita,” he singsongs, giving your shoulder a little shove. Then, grin swiftly fading away to nothing, he rather distractedly declares, “He’s worried about you.”

Your brow furrows a bit, stare honing in on the broad-shouldered man now falling into shadow. The man you’d only just begun to know and yet somehow felt eerily connected to. Another sigh escapes your lips, shoulders slumping as you avert your eyes, looking instead to the dark tree line far below. “I’m worried about all of us.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a solemn nod. “Yeah. Me too.”

It hits you then… as you feel Santi slouch heavily beside you, a heady silence permeating the miniscule space between you. And as you turn back in time to see Will grimace and clutch his side, giving into the pain of a days-old gunshot wound for just a breath of a moment, all that he’ll allow himself to take. And as you watch Frankie remove his hat and wipe the sweat from his brow – despite the temperature already plummeting around you thanks to the nearly set sun – all while he stares solemnly over at the rotting, rock-covered corpse of one of his oldest friends.

You know why this feels different from any other tragedy you’d suffered in the past, any other bad op or mission gone wrong you’d ever endured. It feels different because this… this is all your fault.

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #will miller #benny miller

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blissfullyshipping · 4 years

Text

Braids and Misunderstandings (Thorin x Reader)

Requested by @elia-the-bibliophile: Hi can I request a Thorin x fem human! reader where they’re married with 3 little dwarfling & they’re having a family time in their quarter in Erebor when their children ask them about how they meet each other, maybe it started with a misinterpretation between the 2 of you when you asked for Thorin’s help to braid your long hair but Thorin sees it as an invitation to court you (as per dwarvish custom) thank you!

Fandom: The Hobbit

Warnings: none just a load of toe curling fluff

A/N: I'm backkk. Felt like doing some writing and this request was too cute to not write, although it was a bit hard because I don’t like children and can’t write endings. Anyway hope you like!

Your bedroom is in chaos. Your chambers mess was a result of getting your three children ready for Kili and Tauriel's wedding. The stress of each child changing their outfit three times or kicking their shoes off every five seconds, resulted in clothes lining every surface and shoes scattered haphazardly on the ground. And yet, coming home from the wedding and getting them to bed proves to be an even bigger task for Thorin and you.

"Ouch amad that hurts!" Your youngest, Melva, squeals on your lap as you try to brush her unruly locks.

"I'm sorry ghivashel," you hush her, gently bobbing your knee, "I'm nearly done I promise."

"Tyrig stop tugging your buttons, your mother just sewed them back on!" You look up at Thorin scolding your son, while he struggles to get Elaina into her nightgown.

"There, all done." You announce proudly as you clasp the last bead.

"No! I don't want braids!" Melva cries pulling out the braids you had just finished.

Sighing in exhaustion you pull her hands away from her head. "Good girls have neat braids nathith."

"How come Elaina doesn't have to!"

"Elaina's not ready for bed yet," Your eyes go to her sister, warning her to listen to her father. "She still needs to put her nightgown on and wash her face. Then adad will do her hair."

"Adad can braid hair?" Melva looks up at you, her eyebrows raised.

"Melva!" Thorin exclaims, hands clutching his heart feigning offence making his daughter giggle in your lap. "I taught your amad how to braid!" This gets the attention of all three children and both you and Thorin make use of their distracted state and get them ready for bed as you talk.

"Is that true?" Tyrig asks getting under the sheets.

"Yep," You nod. "Your father and I met because of braiding too."

"What are you telling them now amrâlimê?" Thorin asks coming out of the bathroom with a clean Elaina in his arms.

"Just about how we met."

"Ahh you mean when you proposed to me the first time we spoke."

"What?!" All three children scream in unison, making the two of you laugh.

"That's not true!" Slapping Thorin's chest. "It was just a small misunderstanding." You say as you put the last child in bed.

"What really happened amad?" Elaina asks. You look at the three sleepy dwarflings and back at Thorin who smiles softly, perching next to you on the bed. "If I tell you will you promise to go to sleep straight after."

The three of them nod enthusiastically ready to hear a new story, satisfied with their answer you lean against your husband and begin to retell it.

After the destruction of Erebor and your home in Laketown, you had fled with your best friend, Dis Durin, and the rest of her kin. Feeling more at home amongst the dwarves than your own kind.

Your friendship with Dis had grown since your days in Erebor, you were there for the dwarf-woman when her brother died and father left. You were there when the dwarves barely made it to the Iron Hills alive, and you were there when Dis had found her One.

You were ecstatic when she announced her engagement, and asked you to help with wedding preparations. You fulfilled the role of maid of honour proudly, and took it upon yourself to make sure every detail was executed to perfection.

Slipping into the lavender dress you sewed yourself, after finding nothing in the dwarven markets that would fit you for the ceremony, you move onto braiding your hair into the updo Dis had drawn out for you and the bridesmaids.

Brushing your long locks you stare at the drawing in bewilderment, what is it with dwarves and braids?

Hesitantly, you start off braiding sections of your hair, weaving them together to recreate Dis' design. Thinking you had done well you look in the mirror eyes flicking back to the drawing and sigh at the mess on your head. Untying the braids and restarting again.

But after several tries and aching arms you give up, huffing on your stool in frustration. Not having much time before the wedding begins, you grab the drawing and leave the room to seek help.

You wander frantically around trying to look for anyone who can help, when you finally spot Dis' brother leaving his own room.

You'd never really talked to Thorin before, aside from the polite greetings in corridors or grieving condolences at funerals. You made sure to keep out of the King's way, because even if Dis had profusely told you Thorin didn't mind your company, you still weren't sure if he was okay with a woman joining his kin. Right now, however, you could use all the help you could get.

"Thorin!" You hiss after him, taking in his appearance. He was dressed in his finery making you stop short as you admire him. His hair and beard neatly braided, fur coat sitting proudly on broad shoulders and you can't help but admire the muscle on the dwarf.

When he calls your name you quickly come to your senses and smile bashfully up at him. "I was hoping you would braid my hair for me?" You ask nervously, tugging on a loose lock oblivious to Thorin's crestfallen face.

"I-uh-m-me?" He stutters taken aback by your question.

Having only ever admired you from afar Thorin would never have thought his crush was requited. This was the longest conversation he's had with you, and though he's dreamt of this countless of times he never thought you would propose to him so casually.

"Yes!" You blurt out. "Please Thorin, I can't think of anyone else to do it." You grab his hand in desperation, and Thorin has never felt so conflicted.

"Your hair is always so neatly braided, and Dis told me to recreate this," You wave the drawing in his face "and you know how she is, I just want it to look right."

Thorin gingerly takes the note from your hand, his callous fingers brush against yours, inciting goosebumps to travel up your arm. His eyes flick between the drawing and you, scratching the back of his neck and chuckling in embarrassment, before nodding his head at your wide eyed expression.

"Of course, Y/N." He says softly, leading you into his room.

You try to calm your nerves when you follow the king into his personal chambers, who quickly moves the pile of clothes on his bed, shoving them into a wardrobe.

"Uh- sorry about that. I hadn't really planned on what to wear." He excuses himself sheepishly, face burning when you giggle at his antics.

He moves you to the dressing table, sitting you on the stool and begins lightly raking his fingers through your hair. Your back goes rigid when his fingers tickle the back of your neck.

Thorin can't breathe. Just looking at you through the mirror, hair flowing over your bare shoulders makes his breath hitch. He had only ever seen you with your hair up. And yet here he is, fingers brushing through your long locks, mind cloudy as your lavender smell invades his senses. There is a reason why braiding is an intimate act.

He shakes his head of any impure thoughts and grabs the brush ready to start on the detailed design. Sectioning and braiding he falls into a rhythmic pattern and begins to ease up. Stopping short when he sees you shiver, glancing over to the open window.

"Apologies for the cold y/n, the furs were making me hot." he says breaking the silence, shrugging off his coat and placing it on your shoulders.

You smile and thank him snuggling into the thick fabric that smells of him. You begin to forget it's the king who's standing behind you, and start to relax into his touch, making light conversation and playing with the bits and bobs lying on his dressing table. Or staring at Thorin as he focuses on braiding, hiding your smile when he sticks his tongue out in concentration.

You inspect a box full of beads, recognising them as the ones Thorin wears in his hair. Up close like this, you can tell each intricately carved bead is different. The newer, shinier ones are probably gifts whilst the worn down and smoother beads must be passed down from generation to generation. You wonder if Thorin would allow you to wear one to the wedding and rifle through them.

A particular bead captures your attention, the carving seems slightly rougher than the others but you can see the effort and love put into it. You pluck the bead from the box marvelling at the craftsmanship. Did Thorin make this?

"Ok Y/N I'm nearly done." Thorin says softly, your eyes snap to the mirror and you stare in awe at what he's managed to achieve, finally understanding what Dis' drawing meant.

"Thorin it's beautiful!" You gasp eyes meeting his through the mirror, the beaming smile lighting up your face making Thorin's heart beat a little faster.

"You look beautiful Y/N." He nods in agreement.

You blush heavily and quickly look down so as not to embarrass yourself in front of him. Your attention going back to the bead clasped in your hand.

"Thorin," you gaze back up at him to see him already looking at you, "Could I put this in my hair too? I've always wanted the dwarven beads and you have so many…" You trail off hoping you haven't stepped over the line. You know dwarves take their hair very seriously.

Thorin nods enthusiastically, repeating over and over in his head that you don't know the dwarvish customs, that this isn't you reciprocating his feelings. Even so, his face falls when you turn and place the chosen bead in his hand. What was wrong? Had you overstepped?

He looks up to see your concerned eyes and clears his throat uncomfortably. "You want this specific one?" He asks tentatively. You nod not knowing if you had done something wrong.

"I didn't mean to offend you," you rush out. "I just thought it looked very pretty, the carving is beautiful did you do it yourself?"

Thorin nods silently and you can feel the awkwardness rising. Clearly it meant a lot to him.

"Actually it's fine. My hair looks beautiful as it is and it was rude of me to ask, I know beads and hair mean a lot to dwarves, I didn't mean to overstep." You apologise reaching for the bead, but Thorin moves his hand away from you, a strained laugh escapes his lips as he does so. You look up at him and see determination replacing his hesitant eyes.

"You truly have no idea on what braiding means, do you." He asks and you shake your head. "To braid someone's hair is to promise to court them."

Oh, that actually makes a lot of sen- OHH! Oh Mahal no! Had you really been this stupid?! Realisation hits you and you apologise profusely to Thorin, the horror evident on your face makes him laugh. "Don't worry Y/N I know you didn't mean it that way."

You look up at Thorin and take in his amused expression. You try to hide your embarrassment and turn on your stool. Avoiding his eyes in the mirror, you allow him to finish your hair.

However Thorin hesitates, deep in thought. His entertained expression falls as he grips the bead tightly in his fist. Do you feel embarrassed about the idea of being courted by him?

"I made this bead when I became of age to start courting." He begins. "It's carved from stone found in the mines back in Erebor. It's rather ordinary, my father was surprised and tried to persuade me to use gems instead. But I insisted because it's a piece of me that I would want to gift my One. It's home."

Thorin's eyes are still on the bead when you look at him, his face marred into a conflicted expression. You turn and thread your hand through his, drawing his attention to you and giving him a rueful smile. You felt touched he was sharing this with you and it spurred confidence within you.

"It's so precious Thorin. Any girl would be honoured to wear it." Your voice hushed as all you can hear is your heart pounding.

I want you to wear it. The sentence seems so simple, so innocent, but stuck on the tip of his tongue. Thorin doesn't know your heart or feelings, he doesn't know how you'll react to him proposing to you or how Laketown men propose to women. How he wishes he could just say it, to see the joy in your eyes when he does. Opening his mouth, struggling to find the right words the sentence tumbles from his lips.

"I want y-"

"Thorin have you seen…" The two of you jump apart when Dis bursts into the room. "Y/N! I've been looking for you! Where have you been?!"

"I-I can't braid hair and that drawing you did was complicated so I got Thorin to do it." You stutter slightly, eyes flying to Thorin who keeps his gaze fixed on his sister, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. What was he going to say?

"I'll finish it off for you later. The florists just got here and he's brought the wrong shade of flowers I mean how difficult is it to…" The soon to be bride carries on ranting, taking you by the arm and leading you out of the room before you can utter a word in reply. You throw an apologetic look to the King before the door shuts behind you.

Thorin slumps onto the stool you had just been sitting on. Raking a hand through his hair he looks down at the courting bead still clutched in his fist. Sighing he places it back into the box and picks up the coat that slipped from your shoulders, your lavender smell still lingering in the fabric. Making himself presentable again he leaves his chambers and goes to help with the last minute wedding preparations, determined to be the first person you dance with.

"That's it?!" Tyrig demands hands flying in the air. "You didn't even propose?" The three dwarflings lie in bed unhappy with the ending.

"Yep aunty Dis ruined it all." Thorin says casually earning a whack from you. "What it's true if she wasn't there these three would probably be about two years older." He defends earning another whack.

"Two years?!" The eldest shouts, catching onto your husbands remark. "You waited two years!"

"Timing is everything ghivashel, I regret nothing." You say getting up. "No more questions now, you'll have to save them for breakfast you promised you'd go to sleep remember." This earns a chorus of groans from your children.

Kissing them goodnight you leave their room, Thorin taking your hand as you make your way to clear the rest of the mess in your chamber.

"Did you mean what you said." Thorin whispers into the dead of night, when you're both curled up in bed. "Do you really regret nothing?"

Snuggling into him, wrapping an arm round his neck and giving him a long chaste kiss you lay your head on his chest.

"I wouldn't change a thing. Menu tessu." You whisper back, happily falling asleep after a long and tiring day. You feel Thorin press one last kiss to your hair, before he too gives into the darkness.

And just as you both close your eyes in bliss, your youngest starts crying making you both groan.

Ghivashel = treasure of all treasures

amad/adad/nathith = mother/father/daughter

Amrâlimê = my love

Menu tessu = you mean everything to me

Lotr tagslist: @j25m18c24 @spooookyscary @waddles03 @bogbody

#Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x reader #thorin #thorin x you #thorin fanfiction #thorin fic #richard armitage #the hobbit #theHOBBIT #The Hobbit fic #thorin imagine #thorin one shots #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x you #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit imagine #lotr fanfic #dwarflings

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Tempting Fate - Part Six

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Nothing major.

Word Count: 1,815

Story Summary: Tommy is not a believer in fate or destiny. However, a new resident in Small Heath will question his beliefs and push his boundaries outside his comfort zone.

Chapter Summary: Tommy gets attacked by Sabini’s thugs. You help him recuperate at home. He tells you of his plan to meet with Alfie Solomons to join forces against Sabini.

A/N: While this story takes place during season two of the show, I made some changes to the timeline. For instance, Tommy meets May before meeting Alfie Solomons. Tommy also gets attacked by Sabini’s men long after meeting May. I just wanted to make that clear. The Garrison got bombed and rebuilt before the start of the story.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars

You knew it was not a good idea for Tommy, Arthur, and John to go to London to appear at the Eden Club. The jazz club was owned by Darby Sabini, the man who currently controls half of the southern racecourses. These are racecourses Tommy desired to take over for himself. To no surprise, the Shelby brothers more than let their presence at the club be known, making sure to cause a raucous and leaving destruction in their path. Typical antics by the Shelby brothers. You and Polly adamantly told Tommy that being reckless was not how to get noticed by Sabini, but Tommy merely brushed them both off.

"Sabini is aware of us now. That was the whole purpose of the trip. He'll make his move, eventually, and when he does, we will be ready," Tommy voiced nonchalantly.

You merely shook her head in disapproval at Tommy. "Okay, the fact that you gave Sabini the upper hand is a really dumb move," you said honestly. "Why would you do that, Tommy? Do you have a death wish or something?" you asked him, concerned for his wellbeing.

Tommy got up from his chair to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and began to gently rub them to help calm your nerves. He softly spoke your name and told you that everything was going to be okay. "You got nothing to worry about, love. You got to trust me on this. I know what I am doing; nothing about my plan is out of place," Tommy reassured you.

However, the small voice inside you was telling you otherwise. It did not take long for your fears to come to fruition. You were at the betting shop helping Polly and Esme on little tasks when they got word that Tommy was in the hospital. Apparently, Tommy got set up by the Jews who asked him for a sit-down only to be attacked by Sabini and his thugs. You told Polly that you were going with her to the hospital. Before she could refuse, you held your hand up to say, "I'm going. Don't try to stop me."

Polly waved you along to follow her to the car and told Esme to watch the house. On the way to the hospital, you kept shaking your leg right leg and fidgeting in your seat.

"I told Tommy something like this would happen, but he didn't listen. He never listens," you almost shouted.

Polly could only sigh, "That's Thomas for you. He always claims to know what is right. He never takes what others think or feel into consideration."

You pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, and let it out. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it?" you asked, looking towards Polly. "Always worrying about him?"

"Yes. If you are going to be with Tommy, then that will be your life from now on. Think you can handle it?"

"I don't know. But I know no other woman would be able to. He needs someone to look after him, even though he may not think so," you told Polly, who let out an amused chuckle.

"What?" you asked her, confused.

"Nothing, dear. You really were made for Tommy. The two of you are written in the stars," Polly praised happily. "I'm glad Tommy has you around to look after him. Helps ease off my load."

When you and Polly made it to the hospital, it didn't take long to find Tommy. The doctor told you both that Tommy was lucky to be alive. Polly asked you if it was okay for her to see Tommy first. You agreed and waited until she was done.

Polly was only in the room with Tommy for fifteen minutes.

"We're leaving," said Polly.

When she reached for your arm, you pulled away. "What? No! I need to see him!" you shouted.

"Shhh!" ordered Polly. "He says he doesn't want any more visitors. He needs to rest, now let's go."

But you pulled out Polly's grasp and walked towards the hospital room. You saw a row of beds, and Tommy was at the very end. You slowly walked up to him and sat down. It pained you to see him in such a state. Cheek cut, eye swollen shut, ribs bruised and broken. It took all of your strength not to break down in front of him.

He looked at you but didn't say anything. Leaning his head back on the pillow, Tommy let out a disappointed sigh. You didn't say anything. The last thing you wanted to do was scold him or tell him, "you told him so." That wasn't what he needed. So you reached for his hand and intertwined it with yours. He squeezed it tightly. It was his way of thanking you for being there with him.

Nothing was needed to be said between the two of you. Tommy was grateful to have you next to him, even if he didn't actually say it. Your gesture showed him that you were not going anywhere and that you would stay by his side no matter what happened.

What's worst is that Sabini's men also accosted Ada. Thankfully, Tommy already had some of the Peaky Blinders watching out for his little sister. But it was Ada who eventually fought off the thugs herself. You had yet to meet Ada but heard a lot about her from her brother's and aunt. You found out that Ada's husband, Freddie, had recently died from pestilence, and they had a young son, Karl. Ada decided not to move back to Birmingham but chose to stay in London for she didn't want much to do with her family. However, Tommy was not too keen on letting his little sister cut him and the others out of her life so easily. Typical Tommy, you thought.

You visited Tommy every day at the hospital for the first week. By the second week, you could tell he was getting restless. "I need to get out of here," he kept telling you.

"Tommy," you began, "You need to rest and heal."

Unfortunately, Tommy didn't listen and checked himself out of the hospital. Luckily, you caught him as he was getting ready to leave.

"What do you think you are doing, Thomas?" you scolded him. But he didn't say anything.

Tommy struggled to put on his coat. You let him struggle as you knew helping would only make him feel emasculated. When Tommy finally looked at you with pleading eyes, you walked over and helped him into his coat. You folded his collar down and smoothed out his shirt underneath.

While his face had healed up nicely, it still pained you to look at him. His ribs were still bruised but still managed to be able to move around. You offered your arm for him to take, which he did.

Slowly, you both walked out of the hospital.

"I couldn't stay there anymore. Sabini's men would have come to finish me off eventually or someone else," Tommy told you. What he did not tell you was that Chester Campbell visited him earlier. Campbell found out that Tommy killed Eamonn Duggan and threatened Tommy to work for him as a spy or be jailed and hanged.

"Take me back to your place," Tommy instructed. "I'll finish healing there, okay."

"Well, that makes me feel a little bit better," you said with a small smile.

When you got Tommy home, you took him up to your bed, where he slept for the remainder of the day. You fed him when he got up and cleaned his wounds. You told him to stay put when you went for your shift at The Garrison. He was already asleep when you returned. You snuggled next to help and held him while he slept peacefully. Polly, Arthur, and John would make trips to your house to check on Tommy and give him updates on the business. This routine occurred for another week before Tommy became eager to get back to work physically.

He told you that he was heading back to London to meet Alfie Solomons, the leader of the Jewish gangsters in Camden Town. "I'm going to offer Solomons to join forces with us. I also need to stop by Ada's home to see how she is doing. If she is going to stay in London, then she needs a better place to stay, so I bought her a house," Tommy shared with you that morning.

"How are you getting to London?" you asked him curiously. "More than likely, Sabini's men or folks he hired are keeping watch to let him know of your whereabouts."

"I got that covered. I'm meeting up with Charlie and Curry in an hour down by the canal. Curry will take me to London on a barge. It will take a couple of days to get there…"

"Is anyone else going with you?" you interrupted Tommy.

He shook his head 'no' and lit a cigarette. "I need to do this myself," Tommy said to you.

While Tommy knew that you more than likely would have wanted to go with him to make sure he stayed safe, you nodded your head as a show of understanding. You realized that it would be in your best interest to trust Tommy and not doubt him.

"Well, while you are gone, Esme and I are going to meet up with Johnny Dogs to head to a fair not too far from here. The kids have been bugging John and her about going to a fair. John couldn't go, so I offered to go with her. I think Esme is a little bit homesick. She misses traveling."

"Please stay out of trouble while I'm gone," Tommy advised firmly. "I don't want to picture the trouble you and Esme will no doubt get into. Both of you, please behave yourself."

You couldn't hold back your laughter. "We're going to have the kids with us, so not much trouble the two of us can get into. But don't worry, we will behave ourselves," you told Tommy and got up to kiss on the lips.

Before you could step back, his hand grasped the back of your head and deepened the kiss. With Tommy's injuries, the two of you hadn't been intimate with one another in a long while.

When Tommy stood up, he began unbuttoning your blouse and walking you back to the bedroom.

"Tommy, we can't. You're still hurt," you pleaded, but it went on deaf ears as Tommy guided you to the bed.

"I need you, love. It has been too long. Trust me, being inside you will make me feel better," Tommy uttered while kissing your neck and chest.

Who were you to deny the man? You needed him just as he needed you.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic

62 notes · View notes

another-dr-another · 3 years

Note

watch inoris motive video,,,

Tomori - We should... probably get it over with, yeah?

Inori - Mmm... fine, whatever.

Taira - Monokuma, would you please start the video?

Maeda - Just casually ask the murder bear to share the murder video.

Monokuma - Is Any Student Unprepared?

Tsurugi - ...Hold on a second. I thiiink I may know what's happening in your video, Inori.

Tsurugi - Even if I'm wrong, to help soften the blow of having your video displayed...

Tsurugi - Should we all share what was in our videos?

Ōtori - No.

Ōtori - No, no, nope. That's dumb, and we aren't doing that.

Tsurugi - It's settled, we are!

Tsurugi - It'll help us feel a sense of kinship, and what do any of us have to hide?

Maki - Personally, I'm all for it.

Maki - Can I nominate someone? With that reaction, I want Ōtori to go first.

Ōtori - What the hell!

Maki - Cmon, don't be a bitch.

Tsurugi - Here, how 'bout I go first?

Maki - Talk about un-confrontational...

Tsurugi - Diffusing situations is helpful, and something I'm good at!

Tsurugi - For me, it showed the entirety of my close family, all in various forms of danger.

Tsurugi - One of them's been getting used to a new prosthetic, so I was already a bit worried, and seeing the circumstances everyone was in has me really panicked.

Tsurugi - But I'm certain everyone will be fine, and I know that me killing someone won't help anything, even if I were willing to.

Maki - Thanks to someone, you all already know who was in my video.

Maki - I... didn't see my brother the day I left home to travel to HPA, he's younger than me,

Maki - And I was the only one trained in sniping, let alone self defense.

Maki - Sooo... he's probably fucked over.

Yamaguchi - ...

Yamaguchi - Whole family gone, sister in danger...

Yamaguchi - I believe in my sister though! Hopes Peak was already taking an interest in her athletic skills!

Hatano - Huh... seems like the family being missing thing is pretty universal?

Hatano - Is there anyone here who didn't see their whole family in some sort of danger, or something?

Iranami - ...So many siblings... not a single remaining...

Iranami - A-ah, I didn't mean to interrupt...

Iranami - Since I'm already talking, I'll share though, to get out of your way.

Iranami - It was my big brother, the sibling closest to me in age.

Hatano - I'm sorry... both of my little siblings, for me.

Higa - ...Breaking the sibling trend, it was my Father in my video.

Mekaru - So does that make me the only person who's friend was targeted?

Taira - No, that's the same as my case, Mekaru.

Kobashikawa - I have two older sisters, I think it was the one closer to me in age in my video...

Tomori - Oh! Same here, Kobashikawa, it was my older sister.

Uehara - Little sister here!

Uehara - Though... I'm the only member of my family who was in Japan, so maybe it was faked?

Uehara - Which I promise I'm not just saying for wishful thinking, but shouldn't we try and gauge the influence of those behind this?

Maeda - ...No, I don't think so. For me, I saw a few of... my siblings, then it showed the youngest one dead.

Hatano - D-dead?!

Taira - Really...?

Maeda - Either dead, or left to bleed out... I think?

Higa - What, did you seriously forget something like that?

Maeda - S-shut up!

Tsurugi - Hey, hey, let's handle that later, okay? We can talk about what it may mean regarding this situation, but not now.

Tsurugi - Thank you all for being brave and sharing! That's almost everyone, all that's left is...

Tsurugi - ...Ōtori? I won't pressure you, but I think it could help you to tell us.

Ōtori - ...

Ōtori - My dad. That's who I'm worried about.

Tomori - And that's all you need to say.

Tsurugi - Thank you for telling us!

Inori - ...I wanna talk about my family, after we watch the video.

Inori - We're all ready now... you can play the video.

Tomori - Inori... I'm sure your reasoning was-

Inori - Just wait... please, just watch the video.

Tomori - ...As you wish.

Monokuma - Please Stay Silent And Pay Attention. Notes Are Not Required.

~*~

/On the monitor, the video begins to play. Maeda watches as it loads... right on to the serene scene from his video, with all four children going about their idyllic tasks shown earlier, exact same as Maeda watched before. "MAEDA" is written across the top of the screen, as it plays out.

VIDEO - The chance you all couldn't be driven to murder was a likely one known from the start.

//"TAIRA" has been written across the top of the screen. A brunette girl, seemingly younger than the class, and a blond boy... (possibly older?) both seem to be hard at work. The brunette has arms full of storage bins she's carrying, while the blond attempts to not trip over the bedding sets he holds.

VIDEO - But luckily, a motive was devised, certain to strike a nerve with at least one student.

//"ŌTORI" has been written across the top of the screen. A middle-aged man, with hair the same green as Ōtoris, reads from a recipe book, before turning to an oven, and pulling bread from it. He places it on a display shelf, which has a sign reading "Fresh goods, baked daily - Anything unsold donated to families in need."

VIDEO - In fact, this helped to generate more possible motives, should they be needed!

//"KUROKAWA" has been written across the top of the screen. A boy with blue hair is leaned over a desk with his back to the camera, and to the man who just entered the room. The man pulls out his phone, types something, and the boy motions him closer- whatever is on the desk starts to smoke, and both rush into action.

VIDEO - Except... a bump was hit, as loved ones were found and endangered.

//"KINJO" has been written across the top of the screen. A woman leans down to embrace her husband in his wheelchair, before dropping off bags full of case files, as can be seen through the slightly-opened cover. She kicks off her shoes, and follows him further into the house.

VIDEO - First step was always to look at siblings, and parents, then friends should that fail.

//"HATANO" has been written across the top of the screen. A man, with black hair starting to turn salt-and-pepper, chases two squealing kids, who appear to be twins. It's a game of... tag? As the trio races past a variety of athletic awards located around the house.

VIDEO - But a certain little orphaned only-child got in the way of that format.

//"KOBASHIKAWA" has been written across the top of the screen. A young adult is seen in a lavish garden, arms full of plants, which she seems to be carrying towards a older woman, working away at the garden. In the background, a older teenager is seen running, spinning, and screaming, with pure glee.

VIDEO - And so, coworkers were added to the mix.

//"IRANAMI" has been written across the top of the screen. A blue haired boy is seen alone, in what appears to be a dressing room of sorts. He wipes sweat from his palms, then, certain he's alone, begins to perform what tricks he can do in the small room, flipping and spinning- before he's called out of the room.

VIDEO - And yet even then... no hit.

//The scene shifts from other students motive videos, to a group of adults all in medical garb.

DOCTOR ONE - Another day, and no Inori? She only applied for a days leave, she was supposed to keep coming in until the start of the school year...

DOCTOR TWO - If I have to tell another patient that their operation is getting pushed back because we can't find anyone,

DOCTOR TWO - And it's because their surgeon ditched with no warning, I'm gonna lose it with that girl!

DOCTOR THREE - Kids these days...

DOCTOR TWO - Don't you mean Super High School Level's?

DOCTOR FOUR - She's right, going to Hopes Peak is a sure way of knowing that a kid is an entitled brat.

DOCTOR TWO - Remember her reaction to being accepted? We get it, you're oh-so-special.

DOCTOR FIVE - Her ego got even bigger than before... why does her mail even get sent her anyways?

//The video changes again, returning to other motive videos.

VIDEO - Talk about swing and a miss!

//"UEHARA" has been written across the top of the screen. A small brunette boy sits up in a peach tree, at ease in the branches, pulling a peach off, which he passes down to a girl- older than him, but still younger than the class, who happily accepts the gift.

VIDEO - So, what to do? Maybe someone who cared for you wasn't necessary, just someone you cared for.

//"MAKI" has been written across the top of the screen. A teenage boy with ombré hair is seen dancing around with a crowd of others with only one thing in common- their more... alternative style. Someone taps on his shoulder, and he turns around to face them. After a brief discussion, he begins to help them with their makeup.

VIDEO - But even then, we couldn't find anyone... maybe that's the reason no one felt anything but anger towards you at your disappearance.

//"YAMAGUCHI" has been written across the top of the screen. A young girl with short black hair is shown swinging on a swing set, getting herself higher and higher. Right as she jumps off, an adult enters the frame, grabbing her attention- and she wipes out on the ground, quickly recovering and getting up.

VIDEO - A violent teen who only cares about bringing money in for herself, getting excited about others pain because it means there's more cash in her bank account.

//"TOMORI" has been written across the top of the screen. A teenager seemingly a few years older than the class, is seen sitting on a couch by herself. Shortly after the video starts, she's joined by a middle-aged woman, who shares a plate of snacks with the teen.

VIDEO - What to do, what to do... you've already got your reputation here, don't you see how scared they all are, how they distrust you?

//"HIGA" has been written across the top of the screen. A man with burgundy hair is kicking a soccer ball around in what seems to be a fenced-in back yard. He kicks the ball up to his knee, bounces it into the air, then moves back, bringing up his opposite foot to send the ball flying.

VIDEO - How safe do you think you are, here among all these students, who are now motivated to kill... who do you think they'll target?

//"MEKARU" has been written across the top of the screen. A white haired teen sits on the ground, with a storybook open in her lap. She waves her hands at two smaller children who seem to be bickering, causing them to still... for only a moment. The girl sighs, and turns her attention to the rest of the children surrounding her.

VIDEO - Who do you think they'll feel least guilty about killing? Who has nothing to lose?

//The screen flashes between various shots from the videos, the moments showing the loved ones in pain, or in danger, before switching to Monokuma, talking into the camera.

VIDEO - There's a whole world out there, of people for you to actually form bonds with. All you have to do is escape. You already know how to accomplish that... and you already know that it won't be any weight on your conscious.

//The video ends abruptly, with that final line. In the trial room, no one dares to break the silence, other than Inori, who's breath hitches as she tries to hold back tears.

~*~

Maeda, narrating - ...What the hell was that?

Maeda - I...

Maeda - What is...

Maeda - ...

Maeda - .....I feel... sick...

[Re:Act]

20 notes · View notes

weathergirl8 · 3 years

Text

Master of Deflection - Part 3

Writing sometimes helps....

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

@gumnut-logic You had every reason to be wary and suspicious...

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alan tried to remain calm as the Captain’s grip on him became almost painful. The husky man forced them forward as Alan desperately tried to get his brother’s attention. Virgil was grabbing extra thermal blankets and hand warmers from the corner. The field medic was so engrossed with his task, and Alan loved his instincts for anything medical, but this was one time he needed his older brother to sense something was up.

Almost on cue, the chestnut-haired Tracy paused in his work and turned around slowly. Virgil felt his chest almost drop into his stomach as the sight of Alan helmetless being held at gunpoint met his eyes. He subtly activated his watch and coms before approaching the situation. “Captain, what’s going on?”

“There’s plenty of room to place some of that coal aboard here. You’re going to load it aboard your craft now!” the greying man screamed, tightening his hold on Alan as the gun pushed farther into his neck.

“Easy, Sir. We can talk about this,” Virgil tried to reason, fear for his baby brother pounding with every second. “We don’t need the gun. Can you please put it away, and we’ll talk about it?”

“Virgil, what the hell is going on?” the middle Tracy heard Scott’s concerned voice in his earpiece.

“I’m dead if at least a quarter of that shipment doesn’t survive,” Captain Sterns sneered. “I’ll kill your operative if that’s what it takes to get the message across that I mean business!” the man screamed as he cocked the gun, causing Alan to cry out in pain at the pressure against his neck.

“Virgil, I’m coming down there,” Jeff spoke next.

“No!” Virgil cried. “I hear you, okay? We’ll take the platform down now and get what you need.”

“That’s more like it. You’re both coming with me,” the Captain ordered.

Virgil led the man back onto the rescue platform. The middle Tracy took in a steadying breath as he heard Alan hiss as the Captain yanked the teen forward. “Captain Sterns,” Virgil hesitated. “I have to radio our team that we are going back down to the ship, or they will wonder what is going on. It will only take a moment.”

“If you tip them off, your man is as good as dead,” Sterns warned, his finger playing with the trigger.

Virgil held up his hands. “I won’t, I promise. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Be quick!”

Virgil nodded as he met the determined but fearful eyes of his baby brother. Alan remained composed on the outside, but those baby blue orbs that always expressed so much emotion screamed how scared Alan was. Virgil knew he had to find a way out of this that would not only save his little brother but the passengers on board. “Commander, do you read?” he asked, pretending to press his coms for the first time. “Please advise, we have a crew member unaccounted for and are returning to do a quick search.”

“F.A.B. Virgil, be careful.”

“F.A.B,” Virgil responded as he fidgeted with an item along his belt. The middle Tracy never took his eyes off his little brother. “We are clear, Captain.”

Alan watched Virgil, studying his movements. Out of the Captain’s view, Alan could see his brother reaching inside the small pouch that typically contained medical supplies. The youngest Tracy met Virgil’s now stern gaze; the field medic’s body was stiff. Virgil moved toward the two slowly. Alan could feel Captain Sterns growing uneasy behind him.

“What are you doing?” the older man asked.

“I have to press the control manually,” Virgil said, keeping calm. “You are standing by it.”

The Captain turned his head, looking for the so-called switch. Virgil knew it was now or never. “ALAN, DROP!” the middle Tracy shouted and lunged toward the crazed Captain, plunging a syringe into the man’s neck. The two wrestled, causing the gun to go off. Virgil punched the man, knocking the Captain out cold as the fast-acting sedative took full effect.

Virgil leaned back, breathing hard, his honey eyes immediately searching for his baby brother. “Alan!” he cried as he worked his helmet off and rushed toward his prone sibling. “Allie, are you okay?”

Almost in shock, Alan looked up at him before returning his gaze to a hole along the platform that resided just a few inches to his right.

“Alan, talk to me. Are you hit?” Virgil asked as he frantically began searching for a gunshot wound.

“I’m okay,” the blonde finally answered, pushing himself to his feet allowing Virgil to place his arms around him. “I’m not hit. Are you okay?”

Virgil hugged his baby brother fiercely. “I’m alright.” An unspoken thankful prayer lingered in the air between them.

“Virgil! Alan!” they heard their father’s voice yell as Jeff entered the room. “Are you boys hit?”

“We’re okay, Dad,” Virgil said, not letting go of Alan. “Knocked the Captain out with a sedative.”

Jeff calmed himself as he hugged his two children. “Situation is contained,” he said across his earpiece. “John, notify authorities to meet us at Prudhoe Bay. Gordon, prepare for retrieval. Scott, give us a few minutes to secure and restrain Captain Sterns and then follow us to Prudhoe.”

They each acknowledged their orders, leaving Jeff to look after his middle and youngest sons. “Are you sure you’re both alright?”

Alan looked at Virgil for a moment before looking back at Jeff’s uneasy gaze. “I’m okay, Dad. I promise.”

“Might have a few new bruises to nurse in the morning, but all good,” Virgil said with a smile.

“Okay,” Jeff said, relieved. “Virgil, help me take care of the Captain. Alan, I want you to change out of that soaked uniform and then meet me in the cockpit. No arguments.”

Alan paused but then nodded and headed toward the front of Thunderbird 2.

Virgil watched Alan walk away with worry, his hazel eyes finally catching where the stray bullet had landed. It had been so damn close….

-TB-

Tense energy filled each of them as they returned home, making the radio waves eerily silent. Pulling Thunderbird 2 into the hanger, Virgil tried to erase the memory of his baby brother being held at gunpoint from his mind. Turning from his seat, he met Gordon’s concerned gaze as the two noticed Alan was out cold. Alan had only mentioned his headache had increased after the incident, but otherwise, he was fine. Not wanting to cause an argument, Virgil let it go. “Go on, I’ll wake him,” Virgil told Gordon and their father. “Alan?” he called, as he gently shook his baby brother awake. The eighteen-year-old slowly opened his eyes. “We’re home, kiddo.”

Alan nodded and tried to return the smile his brother gave him. The teen fought against the exhaustion that seemed to overwhelm him. His head fiercely pounded as he felt chills running throughout his body. “Thanks,” he replied hoarsely.

Virgil eyed him with unease. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alan answered quickly and stood up from his seat. “I’m going to go take a shower, and then I’ll be down for debrief.”

Virgil hesitated but decided to give Alan some space. Now was not the time to push. “Good idea, Sprout. We’ll see you in a bit.”

“Don’t call me Sprout,” Alan grumbled lightly.

“Fine, Squirt,” Virgil smiled.

Alan rolled his eyes and headed toward his room. That warm shower sounded better and better with each passing second.

Gordon watched Alan as he entered the elevator that led to the main living quarters. “Is he okay?”

Virgil sighed. “I think he will be.”

Gordon nodded, looking in the direction Alan had gone once more before returning his attention to his immediate older brother. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, confused as they exited Thunderbird 2.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Virg,” Gordon paused. “If someone pointed a gun at Alan in my presence, I would be furious and probably have nightmares for a while.”

“Yea…,” Virgil stammered. “I’d rather save the details for debrief. I only want to tell the story again once.”

“I get it,” Gordon nodded, leading them toward the elevator. “It sounded so scary over the coms.”

“It was. It was so damn close, Gordon,” Virgil admitted, his voice tight. The horror still replaying over and over in his head. “That stray bullet missed Alan by a few inches.”

“Glad you knocked that Captain a good one then,” Gordon said. “You don’t mess with a Tracy.”

Virgil smiled, catching the mischievous glint in his younger brother’s eye. “Indeed.”

“Anyway,” Gordon said, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “If you need to talk about it after debrief, I’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Gordo. I’ll keep that in mind.”

-TB-

Alan slowly dried himself off from his warm shower as exhaustion threatened to overtake him once more. The warm shower did nothing to ease the ache in his body nor to warm him. He felt chilled to the bone.

Stepping out of the shower, he cleared his throat as a tickle threatened to make him cough. Looking at himself in the mirror, Alan couldn’t help but frown as he noticed dark circles hooded his eyes. His head pounded, its return the result of the likely growing bruise on the back of his neck from Captain Sterns’ gun.

Another shiver ran through Alan’s body as his mind replayed the events of the previous rescue. It could’ve ended so differently, but Alan was ever thankful for his quick thinking older brother. Sighing, the teen reached for a t-shirt from his dresser and a thick pair of lounge pants that he hoped would help get rid of the chill in his body.

Reaching for his watch from his nightstand, Alan had to steady himself against his bed as a bought of dizziness overwhelmed him. “Okay, so maybe this isn’t just a migraine,” he said aloud to himself. Maybe it was just the effects of the day?

“I just need to sleep this off,” Alan said to himself. How to get his brothers and father to give him some space? Alan knew just what to do.

Turning the light off in his room, Alan sat down on his bed and called his father on his watch.

“Alan?” Jeff answered, concerned.

“Dad, is it okay if I skip debrief and eat dinner later? I’ve got a pounding headache and really just want to stay where it’s quiet and dark.”

Jeff frowned, the events of the day weighing heavily on his mind. “Are you okay, Alan? I can send Virgil up.”

“No,” Alan sighed. “I already took another Excedrin. I think I just need to sleep it off.”

Jeff studied his son’s shadowy features for a moment before finally answering. “Okay, get some rest, and I’ll check in on you in a little while.”

“Okay, thanks Dad,” Alan smiled gratefully and disconnected the line. Taking in a deep breath, he groaned as he laid down in the bed. Alan prayed sleep was all he needed. Pulling the covers over his body, he tried to relax as his head pounded once more.

TBC…

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2004 #alan tracy #virgil tracy #jeff tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #writing #my writing #fanfic #part 3

31 notes · View notes

whumperooni · 3 years

Note

My brain hatched an idea!!! What about instead of leetle sister todoroki we got older sister todoroki👀 like natsu saying that he’ll help her with laundry but he’s actually trying to steal some panties cuz he’s a closet perv for his sis🥴 or her basically being the house wife for everyone and taking care of all their little needy wants 👀

I’m absolutely down for big sis ♡♡♡♡

(also- so sorry for taking so long to get to this!!!!)

tags/warnings: tw incest, panty kink, breeding kink

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Natsuo, do you have any laundry? I’m going to start a load.”

Natsuo peeks his gaze up from his phone to find his older sister in the doorway- a laundry basket hitched on your hip and a tired look on your face. You’ve been busy cleaning all day and he can’t blame you for looking exhausted.

His eyes drift to the basket and he takes a deep breath when he notices your clothes piled into it, offers you a smile.

“Yeah but, hey, why don’t you let me take care of the laundry? You’ve been cleaning all day- take a break!”

Your brow furrows a little as you consider his offer, but you nod after a moment- slowly, just a little unsure.

“I...yeah. I could use a break. Thank you, Natsuo.”

“You don’t have to worry, nee-san,” he reassures you, getting up and moving to gently pull the basket from your grasp. “I’m not Touya- I won’t flood the house.”

A small giggle, a snort and you smile a little, huff and reach a hand up to ruffle his hair. If Natsuo was a little younger, he might flush and beam at the affection. He just smiles, though, and huffs fondly whenever you bestow a kiss to his cheek, watches as you walk away.

Natsuo makes sure you’re firmly out of sight before nudging his bedroom door shut and sitting the laundry basket down on his bed.

It’s only half full- a couple of skirts tossed in, a sundress, some socks, and a few of pairs of panties.

Bingo.

He should feel guilty, he knows. He should feel disgusting. Ashamed. Dirty.

And he does- a little.

But only just a little.

He’s long gone past the initial guilt that had flooded him the first time he finally broke down and gave into his sinful impulses. He’s done this too many times now to keep up with it- is too comfortable with snatching away his older sister’s panties now to be ridden with the mortification and horror and shame that used to make his eyes sting and his cock ache.

Natsuo licks his lips and paws through the laundry basket for a few moments before picking out his plunder for the night.

Silky. Light pink. Adorned with frilly lace.

It’s his favorite. It’s perfect.

Natsuo tucks the panties underneath his pillow and then loads up the basket with his own dirty clothes, totes it off to the laundry room.

As much of a degenerate as he is, he does want to help out his beloved older sister. He loves you and laundry is the least he can do to ease your burden of taking care of the family.

(Even if it is selfishness and perversion that leaves him more than happy to take on the task.)

Natsuo puts the laundry in the wash and checks to make sure that you’re busy- too busy to check up on your little brother.

You’re focused on prepping dinner whenever he peeks in on you and Natsuo quickly hurries to his room once he’s satisfied you’re engrossed in cooking, shuts the door and locks it firmly behind him.

Cheeks flushed and breathing a little hard, Natsuo walks to the bed and retrieves the panties from its hiding place.

His hands shake a little as he brings them up to his face and a low groan leaves him whenever he presses his nose into the crotch of the dirtied panties.

Fuck- is this what you smell like? He wants to know- wants to bury his face between your soft thighs and get enveloped by your scent.

Natsuo sniffs at the panties and he settles himself onto the bed, takes his cock out and gives it a stroke.

He’s so hard already- aching and slick with pre-cum, heavy in his hand. It’s probably pathetic how easily he gets hard for this- for you- but he can’t bring himself to care as he gets lost in his shameful, disgusting lust.

“Fuck, nee-chan,” he breathes out, pumping his cock and peeking out his tongue to lick a stripe along the crotch of the panties. “Fuck you taste so good.”

He bets you even taste better from the source- he bets that your juices are all silk and honey, sweet and luscious.

He wonders if you shave, how tight your pussy is. You never have boys over and you never go out- you’ve got to be so snug inside.

You could use a good fuck, probably. God knows that you deserve it with all you do to keep the family from falling apart. Just a good fuck to help you unwind, an eager mouth on your sweet pussy to bring you to pleasure again and again and again- that’s what you need.

You work so hard taking care of everyone- you should be taken care of too.

Teeth dig into his bottom lip as Natsuo stifles a groan and snowy lashes flutter as he rocks into his fist; his eyes close as his desperation grows and his mind runs wild with all the fantasies he’ll never be able to bring to life.

“Nee-chan, lemme take care of you. Let your little brother fuck you.”

It’s near bratty, the whispered words- definitely needy. Natsuo groans and cups his balls, twists his wrist and whines as images of you underneath him unfurls in his mind.

You flushed and wet and sweet. So needy as your hands reach to curl fingers in his hair, so loving as you mewl his name and litter him with praise and kisses. Your breasts soft whenever he burrows his face between them, your body so warm as he ruts into you and makes you gasp and moan, cry out his name.

You, you, you.

Natsuo shudders and brings the panties down to his cock, wraps it along his length. He strokes himself with a grunt and flushes more as he smears his pre-cum over the silk, dirties the panties even more.

You’re so good to him, so kind. You’d let him fuck you more than once. You’d let him fill you up to the very brim. You’d coo and praise him as he shoots his seed inside you, as he mouths along your neck and marks it up with his love.

Fuck, he wants to fill you up- wants to stuff you with his cum and pull your panties back into place, watch as his seed soaks the fabric as it spills out of you.

You need to be filled. You’d be so soft and relaxed after, would nurse his cock with a sleepy smile and clean it up just as nicely as you clean up everything else.

He should fuck you right now. He should cream your cunt and let you rest, finish dinner as you nap and his cum oozes out of you.

“Nee-san, please...”

He doesn’t even notice his whine. Natsuo’s too lost in his fantasies, the frantic bucking of his hips. All he can do is jerk off to his shameful desires, moan and rut into his fist as he imagines fucking his big sister.

The lace of the panties scratch against his cock and Natsuo hisses at the abrasion, gets more frantic.

He wants to fuck you. He needs to fuck you. Needs to fuck his nee-san, needs to hear you moan his name, needs to suck on your soft tits, needs to bury his face in your pussy, needs to stuff you full of his cum.

“F- Fuck!”

Natsuo pants and he flushes all over as his hips stutter- as he whimpers and his need crescendos, his pleasure shoots past its peak.

He cums and he spills his seed all over his fist and all over your panties, soils himself and the dirtied fabric even more as he bucks up into his hand with a moan of your name.

“Nee-san! Nee-san!”

He only stops when he becomes too sensitive to jerk off anymore. A tiny whimper leaves Natsuo as the lace scrapes against his spent cock once more and Natsuo shudders whenever he lets himself go, when his cocks falls against his hip and leaves a warm slick of cum along his skin.

He breathes heavily as he catches his breath and he stares up at the ceiling through half-shut eyes- heart thudding and cheeks flared with a blush, satisfaction and exhaustion creeping through him.

It takes a moment or two for faded guilt to pulse through him and Natsuo grimaces as he sits up, as he cleans his cum from himself with your panties.

...he needs to stop doing this.

He’s not going to stop doing this.

In the distance, Natsuo hears the washer buzzing. A sigh leaves him as he runs his hand through his hair and he shakes his head before tucking his cock back into his pants.

Natsuo stuffs the panties in his bottom drawer next to all the others he’s stockpiled away and he takes a breath before unlocking his bedroom door, gives himself a moment to let his cheeks cool before leaving his room.

You smile at him whenever he passes by and he smiles back- sweet and loving as a little brother should be, his cock twitching at the thought of sneaking another pair of panties into his room.

#natsuo x reader #rooni's shit #tw incest #tw breeding kink #Anonymous

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years

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Resol’nare - Part Four

A/N: Making jokes in tense situations is my coping mechanism and it is also Navina’s. And neither of us are funny under pressure. We sure do try though.

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: With Navina and Firo off to hit an abandoned Imperial base on Nevarro in hopes of scoring a hot new ride that won’t litter bolts all over the galaxy like the Flare will, and Mando responding to Cara’s holo about a beskar sighting, the stage is set for an introduction to remember... and hopefully not a bloody one.

Warnings: talk of death, violence, weapons, language

Word Count: 4.8k

Nevarro.

“You sure about this, Nav?” Firo peered through a pair of binocs, turning a dial on the side to zoom in. He had them pointed at the fenced off facility that they had cased out shortly after landing on the volcanic planet. Abandoned by the Empire twice now, the base, carved into the side of a cliff out past the lava flats, had still not been addressed by the New Republic. Although it was clear from their cursory recon that the place had taken some recent damage, it appeared as though it still housed plenty of small ships and speeders.

The plan had originally been to fly in on the Flare, Firo’s current ship, and set down on the landing pad. They’d discussed it first in the caves on Yavin, Firo sharing the location of the base and what limited information he had heard from a fellow smuggler over a game of Sabacc. Rumored to have no security detail, not even droids, they had figured that it would be an easy job. Load up the Flare and another small ship with a few speeders that they could sell on the black market, then split up, Firo in his ship and Navina in the one previously owned by the Empire. The goal was to be in and out and off of the planet so quickly that even if there were cameras or sensors on the base, they’d be long gone before anyone could turn up to stop them. And that had seemed completely feasible. Until now.

Plans have never really been my thing anyway. “I’m sure.” Besides, this might actually work out to my benefit...

Pulling the lenses away from his eyes, he turned to face her. “Even though the Marshal is-”

“Since when has a Marshal ever stopped us, Firo?” She shot him her cockiest smirk, casually crossing her ankles as she leaned her palm against the Flare’s hull. “Since when has-” Her friend gritted his teeth and tried to stop her, but it was too late. The panel she’d chosen to press her weight into gave under pressure, the metal creaking as it dented inwards sending Navina off balance. “Woah!” Firo sucked air through his teeth as he reached out to help her catch herself, but she brushed him off with a huff that he knew she had to work hard not to allow to turn into a laugh. “Alright, on an unrelated note, you need to have that looked at.” She pointed at the flimsy piece that upon closer inspection she realized had been poorly soldered on in an attempt to reinforce a previous repair. Shaking her head, she looked up at the ship and then back at Firo. “I can’t believe I got on this thing and flew here with you.”

“Hey!” He tried to keep a straight face too, but a snicker threatened to turn into a full blown snort if he didn’t let it out. “Alright, yeah, she needs some work.” That’s the understatement of the century. “Still beats taking a commuter shuttle though, Harsa,” he teased, knowing that she had had to put up with a series of shuttle transfers to get to Yavin from Coruscant, and that it was her least favorite way to travel the galaxy.

“Not if she falls apart the second you make the jump to hyperspace,” she teased back. He couldn’t come up with anything quickly enough, so she steered the conversation back to the task at hand. “But as I was saying, we’ve always been able to get around the Marshals we’ve come across. We’ll just have to... “ She shrugged. “Improvise.” With that, she turned and headed around the back of the ship to climb the ramp. Taking a large step up as the ramp no longer opened all the way, she sighed. This ship is a kriffing disaster.

“Improvise?” Firo followed her around and hoisted himself up onto the ramp as she started rifling through her bag to gather what she would need. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, watching as she pulled two comm links from an inner compartment.

Navina blew into one of them, then tapped the receiving end to make sure it was still in working order. “Yeah,” she said, tossing it to him with a grin. He snatched it out of the air and tucked it into the front pocket of his pants. “Improvise.” She checked the second comm link, giving it a shake for good measure before hiding it away under her shawl.

Firo waited for her to look back up at him to respond. “We are pretty good at that.”

“Good? Who’s better?” She asked with a wink, turning back to her bag to dig out her armor. “Remember that time on Onderon?” She pulled out a purple painted shoulder pauldron, untwisting the leather straps that were used to keep it in place. “When we-”

“Nav?” He cut her off then, walking completely through the doorway to stand in front of her, and she knew instantly that he was concerned. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and set the second pauldron on top of the first one, the durasteel clinking softly. With a sigh, he went on, green-gold eyes narrowing briefly and his lips turning down into a slight frown. “I know there’s... something you’re not telling me.”

She stiffened, a sudden wave of guilt making her wince. He’s right. There was a lot she hadn’t told him, and while she had reasoned that the less he knew about some of her plans the safer he’d be, she also knew better than to think that he wouldn’t be able to tell when she was being withholding. He knows me better than anyone, of course he knows that I’m… that something’s… “Firo, I-”

“Look,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her the rest of the way so that he could look straight at her as he spoke. “I didn’t want to say anything on Yavin, because I know that,” his forehead furrowed and he swallowed as he dropped his arm back to his side. “I know... what time of the year it is. I know that,” he shook his head and dropped his chin. “I know you were hoping that…dank farrik.”

He knew that she was hoping that this would be the year that she would be reunited with her father and the little one. Navina’s mother was gone, that was a fact, but the rest of her family was a mystery. He knew that she only allowed herself those three days to hope that they were still alive, because the last time that they had seen each other they had agreed on a designated time each year that they would return to Yavin 4, the last place they had called home, if it were safe for them to do so. She and her mother had missed the first few years, the need to stay hidden keeping them from being able to make the trip. At that time her parents were still able to at least transmit the occasional holo, and while she wanted nothing more than to be able to see her father and the child that she affectionately called verd’ika, she understood, even then, that their hiding was necessary. This is the Way. She could remember thinking it even then, could hear her own small voice repeating the words back to her mother, the two of them tucking their hopes away for another year.

Twenty three years later, she was still packing and unpacking that hope, the thing riddled with creases and worn thin along the folds. She knew that the odds weren’t good that her family was still alive, or if they were, that they hadn’t been captured or separated. Regardless, every year she gave herself three days to air that hope, to go home and wait for them to join her there. But this year was no different from the last one. They’re- she squeezed her eyes shut against the word. No. She wouldn’t even think the word until she had confirmation.

Ni partayli, gar darasuum. I remember you, so you are eternal. As the phrase played in her head, she reached under the cowl of her shawl for the pendant around her neck, squeezing it until she could feel the tusks digging into her palm and then running her finger around the rim of one carved eye, nail scratching against the hard, faceted stone that had been set inside. I remember.

And she had been remembering so much lately, the flashes from the night they had fled Concordia coming much more clearly than ever before. It made no sense to her that she would suddenly be able to recall clips of dialogue or images of faces with increasing ease as more time passed, but for the last few months that had been the case. And then when Firo had found her father’s kal, it had been too simple to give in to the time-worn hope, too tempting to see it as a sign. But it had obviously been there the whole time, she told herself, despite the fact that it wasn’t obvious at all.

She hadn’t told Firo about the increased power or frequency with which the amethyst tinted memories were coming to her, but that wasn’t all she was keeping from him, and it was the second omission that she truly felt guilty about. He was extremely gracious in granting her whatever level of secrecy or privacy she wanted or needed when it came to her family and the closure that she longed for there. While he knew she didn’t truly consider herself to be a Mandalorian as she’d never sworn the Creed or been fitted for her own armor, he understood that she still held fast to the traditions and beliefs that she was raised on; that her clan - her aliit, one of the few Mando’a words that Firo had picked up through the years, and one that Navina thought was appropriate for him, always looking at him as a brother of sorts - was bonded together indelibly, and that she’d never turn her back on that bond.

The guilt she felt was in no way related to her family or Yavin or her memories. It was in regards to what she’d heard in the lower levels of Coruscant, the city under the city at the center of the galaxy. A rumor, but one she’d been chasing for a long time, had caught her attention, and she couldn’t let it go until she’d seen it through, and it was for that reason that she was insistent upon going through with their plan to hit the abandoned base. Yes, she needed a ship. Firo could do with a new one, too, honestly. But she also needed to know if what she’d heard was true- that the Darksaber had changed hands once more… but that it had once more eluded both of the women who sought it most fiercely, herself, so that she could destroy it, and Bo-Katan of House Kryze, the radical who at one point plotted to overthrow her own sister for the Mandalorian throne. And if it is true, if it’s no longer in Imperial hands… I need to know who has it now.

While she didn’t know the exact location of it, Navina knew that there had been, until recently, a Mandalorian covert here on Nevarro. She had no idea how large their numbers were, only that there had been a very violent standoff with the Imperial remnant who’s base she and Firo were about to loot. But the most interesting part of the rumors that she had collected in her travels from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim, was that the New Republic’s Marshal stationed there had been linked to a Mandalorian- to the Mandalorian that the Imps had been targeting. So when she saw the woman with the badge pinned to her belt and the heavy blaster rifle she carried with absolute confidence, it had the exact opposite effect that that sort of deterrent would have on anyone else. I need to know. She sighed, binging one hand up to her forehead and pushing it back over her scalp. She grabbed the base of her long, thick braid and followed it down to the end, pulling it as she looked back up at her friend. But he needs to know, too.

“Firo, it’s…”

“It’s about that damn saber, isn’t it?” He raised one eyebrow in a high arch, and her stunned silence paired with the stupefied expression she knew she was wearing answered for her. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I know. You get…” he squinted at her, “you act differently when you have a lead on something about your family or that kriffing sword.”

“Firo,” she reached for his arms, her hands cuffing around his biceps to emphasize how important this was to her. “That kriffing sword is what-”

Bending his elbows, he grabbed her hands and pulled them down, not angrily but forcefully, holding her wrists as he spoke. “I know. I know what you… how you feel about it and about what it stands for and… and the part it played in…” He clamped his eyes shut then, but before he did she noticed how prominent the golden flecks in them were. He’s nervous. Of the two of them, Firo was absolutely more likely to worry when it came to her safety. She flinched, knowing that she had given him plenty of reasons to throughout the span of their friendship. The scrapes that he typically got himself into were almost always easy enough to weasel him out of with a little careful negotiation or a generous bribe. The spots she found herself in however, usually resulted in drawn blasters and blades. He let out a breath and released his grip on her wrists. “Nav, I just need to know you’re not gonna get yourself killed.”

She clicked her tongue, trying to lighten the mood. “Come on, Firo, I’m a hard woman to kill. I have the-”

“The scars to prove it,” he finished the second part of her sentence in unison with her, rolling his eyes. “I know. I’m trying to be serious here, Harsa.”

“I know.” She said it quietly, blinking up at him as his hard frown softened. “I’m sorry, Firo, I should have told you what I was…” she shook her head, the end of her braid bouncing behind her. “I should have told you that I knew about…” she groaned, leaning forward until her forehead met his chest.

To her surprise she felt it rumble as he chuckled. Huh? He’s… laughing? She picked her head up, a confused look on her face. “Apologizing is really rough for you, isn’t it?”

With that she let out a laugh of her own. “Only with you though, isn’t that strange?” She winked at him, swatting at his stomach.

“Very strange indeed,” he agreed, intercepting her swat and pushing her hand away. “Alright. So we’re improvising. What have you got so far?”

Her grin climbed her cheeks then, and she laid out her new plot. “Not going to get myself killed, Firo. Just captured.”

Less than an hour later they were prepped and ready to put their backup plan into action. Navina removed her gray shawl, strapping her purple chestplate and pauldrons to the black flak vest she wore over her short sleeved black top. Next she wrapped her wrists in padded black fabric and slid the vambraces over them. The left one was utterly useless in terms of weaponry; it appeared as though at one point it was equipped with whistling birds, but the mechanism had been damaged by the previous owner and now its only use was protection. But it’s beskar, so it’s worth wearing. The right one still had a functioning flamethrower, though it was low on fuel, and a grappling line, though it had snared the last time she tried to deploy it so she made a mental note not to count on it cooperating this time either. Holstering her blaster on her thigh, she took her father’s beskar kal from her bag, attaching the sheath she had made for it on the trip to Nevarro to her belt. The last piece of armor she donned was her mother’s helmet, the traditional “T” shaped visor smashed along the eyeline, but the modulator and audio features still in working order.

“Well look at you, Nav, you look like a real live Mando if I ever saw one.” You haven’t, bantha brain. “I like the,” he grasped his right wrist with his left hand, a quizzical look coming over his face as he tried to search for the right word. “Those things.”

Firo had armed himself as well, a pair of blasters on his hips, a small knife in his boot, and a handful of different blaster cartridges on his bandolier that he could switch out for different effects if necessary. Navina felt a knot twist in her stomach though as she remarked not for the first time that he wore no armor at all, nothing to protect him but his speed if triggers were pulled down there. We’ve got to change that if this is the type of thing we’re going to be doing.

“Alright,” she let out a breath and locked her eyes with his through her broken visor. “Last chance to back out. This is my thing, you don’t have to be involved if you-”

“Would you knock it off already?” He tapped the side of her helmet softly, the action causing her to snort as she recalled the first time he’d bopped her on the head while she was wearing the beskar helmet, and how he had nearly broken his hand. “You ready?” She nodded. I am. “Okay. Let’s go get you captured I guess.” Grumbling under his breath about how he had a feeling that he was going to regret this, he walked down the ramp, hopping off the edge where it dangled a foot or two from the ground. She followed on his heels, smiling to herself.

Since they were changing the plan, they were no longer flying the Flare down to the base’s landing pad, as only one of them- Firo- would be flying out. Instead they left the dilapidated ship where it was and headed for the entrance furthest from where the Marshal and the man she had with her were stationed. Navina would hold them off, distracting them while Firo made his way up to the landing pad to make off with a ship, and then hopefully, after she found out what she needed to know and got herself out of whatever lockup situation the New Republic’s Marshals instituted on Nevarro, she’d rendezvous with him here where the Flare was waiting, and they would head for some place where they could lay low for a week or two. They had their comm links in case they needed to contact one another after they separated. But Navina had a good feeling about how this was going to go. She kept that to herself though, sure that Firo would have some snarky comment about how her good feelings were almost always bad portents.

As they neared the edge of the cliff face that had been providing them cover, Navina reached out and stopped Firo in his tracks. “Promise me you’ll bail if I tell you to.”

“Uh oh,” he joked. “You have a good feeling, don’t you?”

“Firo,” she groaned. “I mean it. Promise me if I tell you to leave you will. I-”

“I promise, Nav.” He acquiesced then, giving the tail of her braid a slight tug where it stuck out from the bottom of her helmet. “Now, let’s go.”

She nodded, and with that, they split, both heading off in different directions- Firo towards the secondary entrance that they’d found on their initial recon mission a few days back, and Navina straight towards the waiting Marshal. She glanced back over her shoulder as she reached the last of the small boulders she was darting between for cover, and seeing Firo’s boots disappear through the door, she took a deep breath and ran.

“What’s the town to do with the law this far out on the flats?” Navina projected her voice over the empty space as she rounded the corner, making for where she knew the two temporary sentinels were waiting.

But the second she got close, a third figure stepped into view, one that halted her in her tracks. Dank. Farrik. She raised her hands, palms facing outwards, as the sharp end of a long beskad stopped just shy of her helmet. Holding it was the most imposing Mandalorian she had ever laid eyes on. The man wasn’t much taller than she was, but the stance he took, the way that he held his body and his weapon would have been enough for her to know that he was a formidable fighter. On top of that, he was covered head to toe in beskar armor more pure and pristine than she knew to exist. The sword in his gloved hand was just the first that she noticed of what she now realized were many weapons- a blaster, spear, and vibroblade all visible, plus whatever devices he had installed on his vambraces. And that’s just what I can see. A Mandalorian like this one was liable to have at least four more weapons concealed. A Mando like this is a weapon.

The Marshal and the the older man that had been waiting with her- as bait, Navina realized too late- stepped up behind the Mandalorian, the woman speaking. “You got this from here, Mando? I’m gonna go check out what her friend is up to inside.” Navina scowled at the woman who gave her a condescending look before the man answered.

“Sure. I can take care of her. Take Karga with you.” He hadn’t turned away from Navina, and he hadn’t lowered his weapon. His voice, though modulated through his helmet, sounded calm and even, and she knew that while it likely offered some of his prey a false sense of comfort, she knew better. The Marshal and the other man didn’t hesitate to do as he said, the woman telling him to call for her if she needed him. He won’t, Navina fumed at her retreating figure.

Neither of them said anything until the other two were out of sight, and all Navina could do was hope that Firo was running through the base at top speed. He just needs to get off of the pad, get out of here and then he’s-

“Are you a Mandalorian?” He asked the question as he slid the end of his blade up onto the curve of the armor on her left shoulder, the beskar sword scraping a long divot into the top layer of painted durasteel with a sharp shing.

She let her eyes flick down to where the blade sat without moving her head, hands still in front of her. Stall. Give Firo more time to get out. The blade had only cut through the outer shell of her pauldron, but he had barely used any force at all and she knew she had to answer carefully because one wrong word or uncalculated move would cost her more than the time needed to repair her armor. He’ll chop my arm clean off with that thing. “That depends on who you ask,” she raised her eyes back up to where his would be if she could see them, noticing a sculpted signet in the shape of a mudhorn on his own shoulder piece.

“I’m asking you,” he answered, tone shedding some of its evenness as with the quick turn of his wrist the blade slipped between her pauldron and flak vest, slicing it off in one fluid motion. “And I want an answer. Are you a Mandalorian? Did you swear the Creed?”

Loud bangs coming from the landing pad above them told her that Firo was almost home free. Just a few more seconds. “I was never given the chance to. My clan was attacked when I was a child.” Honesty seemed the best course of action at this point. Though she was a skilled fighter, Navina knew when she was outmatched and outgunned.

“Your armor,” he nodded his head in her direction then, the first move he’d made that hadn’t been to slice her pauldron to pieces. “How did you come by it if it wasn’t made for you?”

“Took the pauldrons and chest piece from a trooper,” she stated, though she knew that was the least of his cares. “These?” she raised her wrists up higher, “these I stole from a back ally trader. You want ‘em? They’re yours.” He nodded again, and she mirrored the gesture, glancing up to the pad as the rumbling sound of thrusters preparing to take off told her that Firo was going to make it out safely. Good. That’s all that… all that matters. She slowly pulled the vambraces from her wrists, tossing them at the Mandalorian’s feet. “They’re busted and they don’t fit, so by all means.”

“Your helmet.” He demanded.

“Now that I will not be parting with,” she told him, trying to muster up all of the evenness that she could.

“It looks like pure beskar.” It wasn’t a question.

“It is. It’s the only piece of pure beskar I own, aside from,” she pointed to her belt with one hand, the other still suspended in the air between them. He nodded his approval for her to pull the kal from the sheath. “Aside from this.” Holding the dagger out for him to see, she brought it slowly up to his beskad and clanged them together, the sound ringing out and making it clear to both of them that both blades were entirely pure. “And I won’t be giving you either of them, Mando.” Sheathing her kal again, she brought that same hand up to her chest, digging under the flimsy armor and pulling out her mother’s mythosaur necklace. “They belonged to my parents, and if you want them you’re going to have to kill me.”

At the sight of the pendant he lowered his weapon and cocked his head to the side. “The Mythosaur… but what is, why is there…”

Navina looked down at the pendant in her hand then, the stone visible in its eyes seeming to glow a fierce shade of purple. She sucked in a breath as she brought her other hand up to cover it, thinking that it was just the harsh Nevarro sun that was causing it to shine more brightly than it ever had before. But when shaded by her other palm the purple light seemed only to shine brighter. “It’s never… it’s never done that before, never so…”

Just then a comm link clicked in the Mandalorian’s pocket, and he pulled it out, pressing the button on the side. “Cara,” he spoke the woman’s name.

“The other one got away with a ship and a few speeders. You good down there?”

Navina felt a fleeting relief as she heard that Firo was off the base and that he’d even managed to make it profitable for himself. The Mandalorian stared at her for long seconds before answering, holding the communicator in his fist close to his helmet. “I’m taking this one back with me.” With that, he switched off the communicator and put it back in his pocket, unhooking a set of binders from his hip. “I can put these on you and you can follow me,” he offered, “Or,” he looked down at the blaster on his hip. “I can set that to stun and-”

Navina shoved her wrists in his direction. “Clap ‘em on then,” she sighed and he did, securing them so smoothly she was sure he’d done it hundreds of times at least. “Where uh… where are we going?”

Sheathing his sword on his belt, he looked straight at her and answered. “No questions.” He bent down and picked up the discarded vambraces, then started walking in the opposite direction. When she didn’t follow right away, he reached for his blaster. “I’m not sure when the last time I used the stun setting was,” he said, hand poised over his weapon. “Not sure if it still works.” Looking back over his shoulder at her, he finished the threat. “Don’t make me test it on you.”

“This is the Way,” she responded reluctantly.

With that he started walking again, Navina following closely behind in silence.

Nope. Plans are not my thing.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek

#resol’nare #the mandalorian fanfic #mando fanfic #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #sw fanfic #oc: navina harsa #oc: firostian ottabok #beskad vs kal #oof tough draw nav #this is the way #cara dune #greef karga #anyway cara dune is a great character who was portrayed by a shitbag so that's where i stand on that #bo-katan

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wangxiangiftexchange · 3 years

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Lunar New Year Gift for alightbuthappypen!

For @alightbuthappypen, I wish you a happy lunar new year, last year was a tough one for everyone around the world. We had to carry too many burdens besides the ones already on our shoulders, so I hope this cheers you up a litte. And if you are totally fine, then just enjoy it. I hope you like it, Im a bit shy to aproach and start conversation, but I tried to stick to the letter in your resquest.

*****

let me adjust my grip, don’t slip

When Lan Sizhui fell unexpectedly ill, it took less than a day for the Yilling Patriarch to arrive at the doors of Cloud Recess.

Lan Wangji suspected it had something to do with their mutual undead acquittance, but when Uncle asked with a suspicious tone, implying things that made his soul tremble with anger. He just fisted his hands behind his back and said “They have a bond; he has a place besides his bedside...”

He wanted, he really wanted to run to the infirmary to be with them. But his duties couldn’t be dismissed easily, in fact, he had several weeks of pending work with the sects that he already asked to be delegated. Yet, he still needed to hand over a list of priorities and names of the people assigned to them, and it was taking him too long already.

He tried to let that the methodical task of sealing scrolls with wax and metal distracted him from his convoluted feelings with the unexpected situation.

The night before while having dinner, the Junior had collapsed to the surprise of all. They took him to the infirmary right away, and not caring about appearances he followed. He spends a long night seated by the little table in the private suit where Lan Sizhui was being attended and probed and examined.

He knew that he had not the correct training to know, do or solve whatever it was happening to him, it fell into the proper and experienced hands of the doctors and healers of the sect. Nevertheless, he jumped lightly whenever they turned the boy in the bed, whenever the men made observations and humming noises, it was the need to run at his side, put his hand over his forehead.

Still, it became obvious very early in night that this was beyond of what he could do to help. By morning they still didn’t know what it was happening, but at least the junior hadn't worsened, and very painedly he had to separate and do his responsibilities.

By the time it was meal time, he was informed of the arrival of Wei Ying. But as he couldn't meet with them, he wondered if they knew something by now. If Wei Ying had come storming by the doors frantically asking to see the boy, walking in circles on his room, hand on his chin asking questions and answering himself while he unraveled the malady with the genius he only could possess.

Something about the idea made his chest ache with longlines.

It's been almost three months since his last visit. He knows, he counts the days with ease born out of experience.

One day since he last saw Wei Ying.

Two days since he lasts seen Wei Ying....

Three.....

One week....

One month....

One Year...

sixteen years...

Counting days was not healthy he knew. But he never could help himself. Some part of him is afraid that the count grows again. Days and days that ache with guilt, with lose...with love...

Three months it's not a very long time if compared with the long wait. But some days, the heavy loaded ones, the stressful ones, it does. It does hurt like it. He wished he could end those days walking to his private room and seem him, see his beautiful welcoming smile. To know he is there and would never go again.

Still, it's not something that can be solved. What right does he have to ask Wei Ying to stay here? Hes as free as he wants, as free as he always wanted.

He understands, he did travel the land too, he was not free exactly, he was running away, hiding his morose mourning and his inability to let go of the past from his family and peers. But he knows there is solace in the open skies of empty roads and peaceful farmed fields, fulfilling the promise they made, he failed him in many ways, but at least he gave himself to the task of fighting evil.

Mourning...Wei Yings needs it as much as he did.

He thought he could follow him, it was his plan as soon as he found him again at Dafan mountain, as he was sweep up his feet by his bright personality, his laughter, his brilliant mind once again. Being with him at all times. But....

But what right does he have to be free of responsibility?

After all, Lan Huan was tasked with their sect since he was born. But that didn’t mean he had to carry the load by himself. And yet, while he was roaming around, raising a kid. His brother never asked him do to his responsibilities if he was not up to them. His brother was sympathetic and caring, and worked and worked without help for years.

Now Lan Huan was suffering his own grief, his own mourning and his own count. But he knew that his was meant to last forever.

Staying here, being the acting sect leader, and being the chief cultivator really was the only retribution to his filial brother. He might harbor a great dislike to all of the sects and clans across the land for the wrongdoings committed to Wei Ying, to them both.

But he couldn’t just walk away while his brother was heartbroken and alone. Or can I?.... his mind thinks but he erases the thought and the doubts as fast as he can.

He can't ask Wei Ying to stay, and he can't follow him either. So, it was just another wait, probably not as endless as the first had felt, but something in him just wants it so desperately to end.

However, there still was something to confess, something kept deep on his chest for as long as he can remember. It probably is because during those years, this feeling just grew and grew until he could no longer remember a time when he didn’t feel like this.

It was like roots had taken over until they filled his chest and touched his soul. Tangling deep into his whole being.

He carried Wei Ying in his heart as one carries a lamp in the darkness. Sometimes warm, and sometimes ardently, but always the light he followed like a moth since he was young.

Where he to confess those feelings to him, would he feel compelled to return them even if Wei Ying does not feel the same? would he stay here with him the way he wants him?

Hes the type of person that sacricifies what he feels and what he wants for the people he cares about. No matter how undeserving of such sacrifice those people could be. Or more exactly how underserving Jiang Waying is. But he does not care to follow that line of thinking because it is against the rules to think so poorly of another sect Leader.

He should feel ashamed to think himself so important in Wei Ying’s life, but it wouldn’t be enough for him to feel obligated to accept something as deviant as being an open cut sleeve just because he cares about Wangji, and it wouldn’t be right. He wants him to sincerely return his feelings, but who would accept such disgrace.

If he feels he owns him something for helping him solve Meng Yaos plot, he’ll never ask for anything. Wei Ying should stop feeling guilty, especially about this because firstly, it was the right thing to do, and second because everything he did was because he wanted.

He wanted to absolve Wei Ying’s reputations, because he wanted him to stop feeling guilty for things that happened so many years ago and weren't even his fault to begin with.

Even before knowing the whole truth, he suspected for years that something or someone had played a hidden evil hand. He spends years questioning his own memories, questioning what everyone accepted as facts and truths, because his heart told him, it always told him that Wei Ying was not the evil person they invented in their twisted minds.

It was then that he noticed that this was the last scroll he needed to prepare to send, so he put out the heating lamp and put aside his official seal, he didn’t stop to clean it as it was his routine and just put it on his sleeve pocket on his haste to reunite with his family.

He didn’t run, but he speed walked on the empty corridors until he arrived. Once he opened the door, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache.

Many years ago, when Sizhui was still a child, a fragile little thing that clung to his robes. He would catch colds in the winter. He was from warmer lands, and even if he never was raised on them, something in him always made him unprepared for long chilly winters. It was true even after he stopped being underfeed and was getting round rosy cheeks.

He would lay in bed, while Wangji spend the night rubbing his back with medicinal herbs and would sing him lullabies. It would be just the two of them by the candle lights, with warm coils burning on the stove. It would get warmer and warmer, but he still felt a cold inside his chest and ribcage, creeping up and down his scarred back, an empty heartbeat, the pang of lost.

Something would whisper on his ear Wei Ying’s name, and how needed he was. How he missed him. He wanted to say to him. What I am doing? Why I am doing this without you? What I am doing with your child?

He would imagine a life where Wei Ying was with them, so close to the image that greet him now, that he felt like that dream was finally true.

Wei Ying was on the floor, lightly petting Sizhui hair and whispering sweet things.

He noticed him then, and the spell broke, and the mirage that mixed reality and hopes fell apart. Wei Ying smiled tiredly and raised from his place to invite him to sit with him by the table.

“How is he doing?”

“It's not getting worse....”

“Do they know something now?”

“They do...” he sighed. “It's a curse. I already questioned Lan Jingyi about it. But he just told me he had no idea, he said nothing was amiss, nothing had gone wrong on their last night hunt. He noticed nothing weird.”

“He wouldn’t...” he sighed.

“Hes not very observant, I agree, that why I drilled him with questions, even force him to tell me an hourly account of their trip, and there was something”

He nodded expectingly.

“Some strange looking lady tried to sell them flowers by the road. When they didn’t, she became erratic and tried to.... offer them a different...kind of flower....”

He frowned.

Wei Ying laughed. “Yeah, she offered to sleep with them for a piece of silver. When they said no, she tried to hug them, Jingyi pushed her off of course, but Sizhui being as kind as he is, tried to help her go to the next town, but she pushed him, screamed and ran to the woods. They thought she was just a very poor crazy woman and brush it off....”

“Thats not unusual”

“It is not unusual although very sad, but it’s the only thing that came to my attention...everything else was as they said, just a normal night hunt.”

“What kind of curse”

“The slow one at least, it's obvious he was pinched with a needle on the neck, its going down...” he said looking at the table. “We have a lead now, it's better than nothing”

“umm” he agreed.

“We should depart at the earliest”

“Why not tonight?”

Wei Ying smiled sadly. “He was....he was asking for his dad....”

Wangji’s hands clenched and all the air in his lungs was pushed out and let him breathless

“You really are his father....” he said.

“He called me that when he was little until Uncle stopped him. I let him do it when were alone....”

“I was a little hurt Hanguan-Jun. You stole my child....” He sounded truly sad.

“He’s....he’s yours too”

“But he was asking for you...his father”

“Because.....you are his mother”

That made Wei Ying laughs and wipe the sadness out of his eyes.

“So shameless!” he keeps laughing. “waiting all these years to deliver such a punch line Hanguan Jun. Your sense of humor is twisted and no one would think it of his excellency”

He could feel his lips pushing to fight the smile carried by his laughter

“I suppose I dig my own grave with that one Lan Zhan” he keeps with a light teasing smile. “But I did say I was...And I want to spend the night here if you don’t mind”

“I don’t, Theres blankets on the trunk”

He stood up to retrieve them and put them on the floor by the bed. He put another set besides the one already on the floor.

“What?, is his excellency spending the night on the floor”

“umm” he nodded.

“But Lan Zhan, the floor is uncomfortable, you should go to your bed”

“I'm not” he simply said to avoid the argument.

Wei Yings shoulders dropped in defeat and only prepare himself to sleep by striping of his outer layer. He gave him privacy by turning his back and doing the same before laying side by side on the floor.

“He looks peaceful, they gave him tea to sooth him and ease the symptoms.”

He looked at the youth and Wei Ying smiled sadly.

“He still looks so young even if he is becoming a man in everyone's eyes. But early today he looked as when he was little and was so tired, he got crackly before his nap. I could tell he wanted to stick his fingers on his mouth”

He smiled gently. “It was hard to break him out of that habit”

“I can imagine. Were you harsh on him?”

Wangji frowned and said “no”

“Well, I was a little bit, I was not in the best place, and sometimes I was so tired, and so angry with the world. And he was just a child, he didn’t know better, he was lonely and wanted to play. I regret snaping at him”

“He missed you too”

“I Thought he didn’t remember much”

“He doesn't now. But the first days he would ask for you in his feverish state, Lan Huan sleep with him but he cried until he was allowed to stay with me”

“Such a little manipulator he was”

“It was because he didn’t recognize this place, or those people”

“Yeah, I bet he was sad”

“Um” he nodded. “Didn't ask only for you, he wanted all his family back”

“I'm really sorry he had to experience that, I could have done more, or the right thing...I keep thinking what could I have done different”

“Pointless, can't change the past”

“I know, but I can't forget, is a burden I must carry if nothing else. It was a mistake; I shall live with the regret”

“Stop blaming yourself, what does that accomplish?”

“Aiyooo” he said. “I know you are right, but I can't help myself, I can't just forget you know, and when you remember something, you always get to wonder what if....”

“Then find solace in the fact, that he survived, and he was cared for, looked after”

“I do that too. I'm so grateful you took him in, he couldn’t have ended in better hands, he was seriously lucky, you didn’t just give him a chance, you gave him a whole new better life, he wouldn't have ended such a fine gentleman with me and with his family even if they had survived”

“Would have offered him an education in Gusu Lan anyway”

Wei Ying smiled softly. “I'm sure you would have, the way you looked at him that day in Yilling. I know the look of a mother hen when I see one. You wanted to gift him the world, feed him until he got fat, and teach him manners, am glad you still got to do it in the end”

“And yet...I couldn't even save Wei Ying, the person he needed the most”

“Lan Zhaaaan, stop, stop!. Alright, we already said Theres no point in regret, I won't do it, if you don’t either. In fact, we already made a pact about it, no more regrets. That was then, but this is now. We have to solve this, I'm here now, I can't lose him, this is entirely different..., he’s...he’s ours”

“Ours...” he said in affirmation.

“It's almost nine, we should sleep, we have a long way tomorrow. We have to find this mysterious crazy hugger in the woods.”

“Um” he nodded and closed his eyes.

It took just a few moments for his routine and his command to take over his body, but while he waited. He relished in the fact, that the room was warm, that he could hear two sets of breathings in rhythm. The room was lived in. No more emptiness. No more cold.

+2+

Lan Wangji woke up before first call. Lately, he found himself awake before he was due. It might be the stress of the job; he did have too many responsibilities that took his days away and didn’t allow his mind to rest at night. Much less the pleasure of meditation.

It might also be an age thing. He heard from uncle that it happened to him too around this age. It was a strange notion that the mind, still felt the passage of time even if his cultivation didn’t allow his body to age in a normal rate.

He looked young; his strength still was that of a young man. And yet, time did come to pass. Sizhui was the more affected by it. There where once lay a baby, now was an adolescent. But when he looked at Wei Ying peaceful sleeping, he still saw the young man he was when he died...

At first it was shock to see him as if not a single day had passed. But it had, Wangji himself didn’t look more than twenty-nine. Even if he was already thirty-five. But Wei Ying looked so young still.

But he couldn't be considered naïve, he saw too much, suffered too much to be a child. He was just barely older than Sizhui, but he lived a whole life time over. As they sleep like this, they looked like two young brothers, so precious and innocent wrapped by their dreams.

He felt old, tired and alone inside way before he meet Wei Ying at seventeen. But as soon as he stormed into his life, Wei Ying provoked the child on his soul. How much he wanted to be free, playful. He wanted to chase him, to joke and laugh. Run as fast as he wanted, rules be dammed.

He didn’t get to do that at the end of those days. But he did run behind his memories, after his retreating back on his own dreams, chasing him and never being able to hear him or touch him. Oh how much he missed him. How much he wished he had the courage to do all he wanted before it was too late.

And now that he was back, he still couldn’t be with him, because he couldn't chase him anymore. How unfair it was. To have waited so long and still don't have what he wanted. Even it was the facsimile of just being in his company.

He should have been a child when he could, because now he was a true man and responsibilities couldn’t be thrown away, he can't justify in younthness his actions or his wants. If he had chance with him, I would have been years away, he could have a stolen a kiss and pass it off as ignorant imprudence and improperty, he might have been forgiven. Be excused with it, and say he didn’t know better.

Wei Ying might have even returned it then.

But now he does. He does know better and how inappropriate it is.

But he wants....he wants so much.

As he sees Wei Ying sleeping. His whole soul plays a different tune. Lust tights his fist around him, and he burns ardently with desire.

Every time, every single time Wei Yings calls him “Lan-er-gege". He’s no listening the innocent way a young man calls an elder. Oh no. All he hears is the tilt a shameless woman uses to seduce a man.

The way it sounds as a beckoning call to her bedchamber. And he knows Wei Ying is only teasing, only playing with him.

He never stopped trying to make him play with him. But how can he answer in jester, when these things provoke the man in him? He should be ashamed, and he is.

But he can't help himself. He drinks the image of rosy lips, soft skin and messy black hair. His long beautiful eyelashes. Even if he is a proper man, he still looks delicate, soft in young masculinity.

He wants to destroy the person lucky enough to have him, even if it is a woman or man. Even if is only just an idea. Because he knows there's no such person lurking on his life. Or maybe he just doesn't want to think there is. Wei Ying hasn’t spoken of anyone new on his letters.

Wei Yings writes him about people yes, but as always is in a disinterest rude manner, sometimes he can't even remember the name of the people he just meet. No one has cached his attention.

He really doesn't want to see it happen. Same as the day Lan Sizhui began noticing women and he felt pride and fear in equal measures. Pride, because he was so gentle, and one day he would be happy knowing love. And afraid because he was already mourning his child. The innocent chubby baby he wrapped on blankets and allowed to sleep on his shoulder.

However, he can't decide what is the appropriated feeling regarding Wei Ying and the concept that one day, he might be with someone he wants. It hurts to think about it. To imagine him so happy and in love.

And it makes him angry to feel this way, what claim does he have? -- none, and truly Wei Ying deserves all the happiness he can get on his second chance. He suffered and sacrificed enough; he deserves everything.

Wangji let his chance go, and he has to suffer those consequences.

Wei Ying is far away and so close. Hes right here just a foot apart. If he extends his hand, he can touch, and he is tempted. His fingers ache with the desire to feel his warm presence. Instead, he coils his fist tightly.

+3+

When he comes back with a light breakfast, Wei Ying is already on his feet, already scribbling away in parchment an assortment of talismans.

“I may need them” he says as an explanation while he finishes with the ink and hastily moves the paper away to make room. “Lan Zhan....” he says and Wangji looks up from the plates. But he is pointing to the bed, where Sizhui is awake with half lidden eyes.

He goes to him and puts a hand over his forehead. He’s warm with a light fever.

“How are you feeling?” he still asks.

Sizhui moans.

“That good uh?” jokingly answers Wei Ying while he sits on the bed.

“A- diē” he moans. But his eyes aren't fixed on one of them, they go from one to the other, making unclear to whom he calls.

“We are here A-Yuan" says Wei Ying. “Here, Lan Zhan got you sweet soup, you still like it right?”

He can feel the tiny smile taking over his lips.

“Bába.... a- diē....” says Sizhui raising his hand shakily, Wangji takes it.

“yes...” says Wangji. “Bába wants to give you soup, be a good child”

A-Yuan nods feverish, Wei Yings eyes are shinning like the ponds in Yummeng, but he gathers the strength to feed A-Yuan the soup and the tea before the boy falls sleep again.

“I hope he doesn't get upset if he doesn't find us the next time he wakes”

“I’ll made sure his cousin is here to keep his company”

“We better hurry with this task then, it pains me to depart”

They rushed with their breakfast even if it is against the rules, but it's just the two of them and really, that is one unrealistic rule. Life can get so fast at times, that chewing trughly can wait for more placid times.

By noon they have covered several li of distance, he can see Wei Ying has regained much needed strength in the last months. But by meal time, they decide to make a quick stop at an Inn to eat.

“Oh no, I'm just power walking” says Wei Ying when he tells him what he thinks. “I gained a little weight, but I'm not near as strong as before. I don’t think I’ll ever will, especially since I'm relaying in talismans rathe that demonic cultivation. But the pshyquical weakness is here to stay, I'm just a normal guy, takes me ages to reach my destinations”

“It will do no good if Wei Ying tires excessively then” he says. “I should acquire horses”

“Well, it will be even faster, and as ashamed as it makes me feel, it would be helpful"

“Theres no shame in admitting weakness”

“But I don’t want to become a burden for anyone”

“Wei Ying is no burden”

“So, you say, but you have to admit it makes things awkward with the sects, having me around and bothering such a stemmed cultivator like yourself”

“They are the ones who should be ashamed of being burdens, because they are...all the time”

Wei Ying laughs deep. “Such a burden Lan Zhan, I can't even...; some of those men can even wipe their asses without assistance”

“It's been very troublesome, but I can't just....”

“I know” cuts Wei Ying with a tired smile. “They do need you....”

“I rather be traveling.... like this...with you” he says lowering his eyes because he can't stop the furious beating of his heart.

Wei Ying laughs awkwardly. “It doesn’t think you’ll like it, I'm sure you would be bored by me pretty soon”

“I really can't imagine that....”

“Of course, no, with men like clan leader Yao and Ouyang lowering the intelligence of a room”

“So, you do know it happens the opposite when you are in it?” He sneaks a glance and Wei Ying is fumbling with his cup and blushing.

“I suppose, if you put it like that, then yes, yes of course I am better company”

“Then your presence can't be called a burden”

“Lan Zhan, politics make you very....” he fishes for a word, but keeps opening and closing his mouth. “Flirty...”

As soon as he says it, Lan Zhan feels the warmth creeping up and up, until he also knows he has blushed. But also, the victory of it. Feeling like he did something right, like he won, he feels satisfaction. He feels accomplishment. But like an addict, his body craves the attention with powerful intention, like a possession of the mind. He wants more of it.

“You are being very talkative now”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Couldn't stop them from arguing unless I found witty responses to shup them up”

“But you had always being witty with your remarks. It something else, you aren't minding your words.”

He thinks about it, and its true on some level. Being acting sect Leader, and Chief cultivator, has forced him to talk more than he is comfortable, it's not on his nature, but things weren't get done, and frosty commands and final decisions made the sect leaders feel like he was becoming an evil overlord, they hadn't felt threatened by Meng Yao at all. Not even once even if he was a true devil mal.

Nie Huaisang had given him an unsolicited advice, but that it turned out it really was helpful.

He would never be like his brother, who had a sweet and kind disposition. But it turned out that if he explained things more and engaged in conversation more, the sect leaders had a very different disposition.

But he was by no means, a flirty leader. It was just Wei Ying.

It was like a broken dam, and words and feelings were leaking tru the cracks. He needed to...express this warm thing on his chest, it wanted to get out.

“Just with you” he clarified once again, not controlling himself or his feelings.

“Whatever it is. I can't say I'm displeased.” He smiles. “You are witty and intelligent and funny! I would love to see you in session”

“You should come”

“I don't think the leaders would appreciate it like you do, would make them angry. And It would make me angry if they say something stupid”

“You still should come. Things are getting settled, and they could see you are in no way a treat, and you know I would never...turn my back on you”

“I know you wouldn't, you haven't done it since I returned, I'm not even sure if you ever did, even in the past. Maybe I was too stupid to see it, but you have always been on my side, and it makes me happier than I can describe. For that reason, I can't cause trouble to you...”

“Theres no trou...”

“Let's get going Lan Zhan, we have yet a long road ahead”

It feels like punch to the gut, disappointment grips him hard. He lowers his eyes and nods.

They do acquire horses. And as soon as they hit the road outside of town, Wei Ying speeds the horse freely. He can see his satisfied smile when he shouts.

“This is an upgrade of that stupid lovely donkey!!”

Wei Ying knows how to ride with elegance and with power, he is good at it, like he is good in a lot of other gentlemanly arts. And it is a beautiful visage, seeing him riding into the sunset.

But as beautiful as he is, it still feels like Wangji is running behind his back, like he’s always dragging his feet in a race. Following at close heals, but never enough. Fingers brushing mere seconds before his hands slips and he falls, until he is lost forever.

Slow down Wei Ying.

Please slow down...he wants to say.

Let me catch up, let me adjust my grip, don’t slip.

+4+

They arrive to their destination by night fall, in the morning they’ll have to ride a few li more before reaching the forest, but it doesn't make sense to keep going, whatever the woman in the woods is hiding. They wouldn’t find her at night. The forest has too many foliage, and there's lots of places a soul can hide during the night.

But the Inn in town is overcrowded and they only have a room for both of them. It's no trouble really, they have camped and sleep in shared rooms before.

Only it is a problem now, because Wangji has been feeling.....

He’s been feeling like his heart wants to come out of his chest. Like it wants to jump out of his ribcage. Like he can't breath a second longer, the feeling beats wildly out of his cage of control.

And it hurts, it hurts so much, because he wants, he wants so much.

So close and so far, away, and his shoulders feel heavy loaded with despair. He just wants to hug him, feel him alive, touch his warmth with the tips of his fingers. But he knows it won't be just that.

It stopped being enough seeing him from afar. But It would never be enough, if he touches him, he would crave it, he would desire. He wouldn’t be able to control it.

He thought he could control those feelings, because it became obvious why he couldn’t be with him. Why he couldn’t force this feeling on him.

He promised himself that as long as Wei Ying was alive and happy or content. As long as he was in no danger. He was happy and content too.

But it is a lie.

And the pain, the sorrow, the despair feels as big as mourning his death once felt, maybe even worse, because he’s right there with a brilliant smile.

He feels like he is falling, but the wrong way, the desperation, the frustration. Those kinds of feelings are the kind that make a good man turn bad.

He’s shaking with it, and he is ready to renounce everything, just for the chance to have him. Ready to let the sects destroy themselves. Sick and tired of their petty disputes. He feels compelled to even renounce his family, abandon his brother in time of need, just for a chance to be with Wei Ying.

But he is better than this. Wei Ying wouldn't even want him is he ever did such a traitorous thing. They promised to be good, to do justice and good deeds to the world.

And yet....he is angry.

Why does destiny take this from him?

This only thing he wants and needs, and it's not even the flesh sexual act what he wants. He has no desire to force him, it's not his desire to be with him skin against skin.

Although it is too.

But he wants so much more than just that. He’s burning with the desire to be with him when he goes to bed, when he wakes up in the morning, he wants to be there when he laughs, when he gets melancholic about the past. He wants to be the guardian of his dreams, and the protector during his nightmare's.

He just wants to be there for all of it for the rest of his life.

And then so more in the next and the next, and the next. Because it pains him to imagine another lifetime so far away from his very soulmate.

Red string and knot around his core, soul, and heart.

It's unfair.

+++5+++

By dinner time, his fingers felt cold, his chest hollow, empty, throbbing with each breath.

“Hanguan-Juan, why are you so upset, Sizhui will be fine”

“um” he nods and drinks from his cup of tea.

“Ayooo!” he says “Who killed your rabbits?”

“No one, they are safe back....home” he struggles with the last word.

Can it still be called a home? Empty rooms and empty bed? It was not one when a little child cried at night. He can't decide if the ghostly echoes of the cries are his or A-Yuan's. But Gusu Lan sometimes feels like the broken abandoned nest a family of birds left behind.

“I think you are being over worked” he says casually. “Or something big is on your mind”

“There is...” he says. “I might just say it now....”. Because really, some part of the pain is not knowing if there is chance.

“Alright, whatever it is, I'll help you, because you should know I got your back too”

“We should be cultivation partners”

Wei Ying looks surprised for a moment, he wasn't expecting that, but then he begin laughing

“See!, you are funny!”

“I'm not joking”

“Of course, you are, are I expected to believe that you, his revered Chief Cultivator wants to...to...cultivate with the likes of me?”

“Yes”

Wei Ying scoffs “If it is a joke, I must ask you to stop, you damn well know I can't cultivate”

“It is not, Wei Ying....I....I....”

His eyes go soft. “I see... I didn't want to say anything about that, but I recon this can't go on any longer. I'm not as clueless as everyone thinks me to be”

“I know you aren't. I know you sometimes walk faster”

Wei Ying bites his lips and he goes serious. Hes talking with the Yilling Patriarch and that scares him. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. He might have ruined this friendship.

“You do know that being with me is an act of selfishness I can't allow? The cultivation worlds need you. And I can tell it would be very disappointed if you did something like this. I know you want to help me recover by cultivating, but It won't even work, why bother?”

“If I can't be allowed to be with my soul mate even if the cultivating doesn’t work, then what is the point of cultivating? What is the point of this whole lifetime? What is the point of leading the cultivating sects? “

Wei Ying snorts. “Such a romantic you are”

Wangji didn’t know if he should be offended.

“It's too much trouble even if your intentions are good. Gusu Lan won't just open his arms to me, your brother and uncle...”

“I'm acting sect leader. Xichen is not coming out of seclusion, and I expect it will take him a long time, as for my uncle. He might be disappointed, but not entirely surprised. He asks about your whereabouts often”

“Yeah, because he wants to know when the devil it's in theirs mist”

“Because he knows I care. He may never trust you, but he knows I do. And sometimes, you have to make do with the situation”

“And what about the other sect leaders”

Wangji frowned. “Smaller sects will cave to the bigger ones and their opinions can and are influenced easily. The bigger ones. One is your nephew, whom I know you spend considerable time with, and the other is your brother, you are avoiding him, but I can tell he just acting angrier because he wants you to contact him”

“Thats Jiang Cheng for you, but how have you gained this understanding of him?”

“Is it really that difficult to understand a man that expresses everything with anger?”

“I suppose not that difficult, or different to understand as yourself, a man that expresses everything with a calm stoic face, here we are after all, expressing our feelings in such a matter, I should be offended, you should be more romantic than this”

“Does Wei Ying want to know about what I feel when I see him? about my racing heart, about how much happiness it brings me? about how much I missed him for years and years?”

Wei Ying blushed. “No, no, stop, I thought I could take it, but I don’t"

“um” he nodded and felt the disappointment.

“You miss understand. I... feel very deeply for you too, but this not about what we feel for each other. I do know. I knew that night before the temple. And I though....”

Wangji closed his eyes.

“But the world.....”

“I know”

“I did so much wrong”

“You didn’t.... everyone makes mistakes, but they weren't born out of evil intentions. They weren't plotted and malicious, they never were, and the world knows this”

“They know, but they aren't going to stop being hypocrites and judgmental. How are you going to maintain such an important position, with me hanging from your arm?”

“Then I don’t care anymore.”

“What about our son?”

“He can remain with my uncle. But I gladly would quit and travel the lands. It is our promise to each other. How many years have to pass, before we fulfil it?, How many years are we supposed to wait? I can't...not anymore. Wei Ying is my soulmate”

Wei Ying sighed. “I thought this was going to end sooner too. Less than a year, but they are so clueless, like a pack of children, making and making the same mistakes”

“Then we have to solve it in other ways. We might never agree with the current leaders Wei Ying. But you are an excellent teacher, and you have been taking unofficial hunting trips with the boys of every clan. And the leaders constantly bring this fact to my attention. I think that if you officially joined Gusu Lan Clan, this wouldn’t be a worrying matter anymore, you would have expressed permission to do it”

“And how do I join Gusu Lan?”

“Marry me...”

Wei Ying looks surprised. “you mean...besides cultivating together you want to....not as...platonic soul mates...”

“As husbands”

“With kissing and everything?”

“Everything....”

“Bed sharing?”

“Everything”

“Clan allowance?!”

“Everything”

“Fucking?”

“Yes”

“Oh....”

His heart beat faster and faster and he’s getting light headed, it was not an answer yet.

“Can't say I expected that...you hide it very well...”

“umm” he hums' disappointed.

“So, I wonder if you are as passionate with this in action, as you are with everything else. You are a man of actions, not words...”

He looks into his eyes. They are shinning with mirth.

“Wei Ying might like to find out”

“He might indeed...” he smiled fully. “But seriously are you really sure you want us to be....so publicly together?”

“I'm not ashamed of what I desire, I want Wei Ying as my husband and Sizhui as our son”

“You are being very shameless” he smiled softly. “And... I'm happy. Glad. I do want to be with you, but I need to know you are completely sure you want this”

“I do, with all my passion, with all my hopes for the future. I never wanted to be chief cultivator in the first place. I did it because it seemed the right thing to do. But I can't go on without you anymore, its drowning me, it's killing me, I'm tired and alone, and I can't be apart from you a single day more. They either accept what you mean to me, or they can destroy themselves however they see fit”

“You are so sure...and I....”

“I understand....you want pace, you don’t want to go back to those clowns and jesters”

“I just don’t want to cause more trouble, it frightens me, politics....people's opinions, it has scarred me, it was so horrible last time, I did everything wrong, didn’t save the people I loved, I'm so afraid of failing you”

“Take your time thinking about it. I too need to know Wei Ying is sure to accept me and my responsibilities.”

“Thats a bit unfair. Makes me look like the bad guy. If I don’t go back to Gusu with you, you want to quit your job, how can I steal you all to myself, you know that doesn't settle with me, and this fear I feel.....”

“I don’t need a big position to keep our promise. And I do want to settle with you. We gave them too much before. And I know now what I might lose....I don’t want to lose you ever again....”

They both submerged into a contemplative state, only interrupted by the noise of the overcrowded Inn. When it was time to retire. Wei Ying made a big fuzz about the bed. But then again, he always did.

This time tho, it was different. A soon as the candle was blown. Wei Ying moved close enough to touch. Close enough to be held in his arms.

It felt so right, Wangji couldn't think of ever sleeping apart from him again. He was older now, so he knew that often, what people said it was wrong, it wasn’t actually. It was just misunderstood. And what people thought to be harmless, it often was.

He was not a youngster easily swayed into believing a set of hard rules and supposed truths.

People would always talk, they would whisper, they would plot. But being with this man, no matter what they tough or said. It was not wrong.

What felt wrong was to keep them apart.

If a good man can be driven into perdition, he thought this was his edge cliff.

And he’s sure to jump.

++6++++

Next morning, before sunset, they departed from the Inn in search of the hugger of the woods.

“Let's go this way, there's a stream nearby. And I believe a starved woman would set camp near it, it’s a very plentiful place, been there fishing too”

“umm”

“Hanguan-Jun, please don’t be disappointed if I can't be so sure to answer your kind attentions”

“I'm not. It is a serious matter”

“Of course, and there's also that our son is in pain”

“Must hurry”

“I'm serious, It's not that I don’t want.....its just....I feel fear, I feel so tired too, some days I feel like I can't love anymore. I feel that if I lose a single person on my life, it would break me again, everything would be dark”

“I'm here for you”

“And sometimes I wished you weren't....it's painful to think about, but the fear I have of losing you sometimes keeps me awake at night. Sometimes I dream my sister, and sometimes I dream it's you whose death I provoke. I...I feel so empty without you, but I keep thinking that I can't do this. I can't do it anymore”

Wangji stopped walking and felt his heart shattering.

He knew like an abstract concept that Wei Ying had lost so much, and that his pains and ghost would always be with him. But hearing him say these things, made him feel like he failed him. Like he was not enough to protect him. Like once again he couldn’t do a single thing to stop him.

Maybe he shouldn’t.

When they were younger, he tried and tried to stop him from suffering and that made him go away.

But then, what was he supposed to do?

“Lan Zhan...” he begins. But stops abruptly.

From the foliage, a needle sails the air. Wei Ying’s talisman stops it. A furious scream is heard and in just a matter of seconds, Wangji takes his sword and takes a stance.

The woman comes out of the shadows. Shes as described, a shabby dirty woman with crazed gaze.

“Why are you attacking people?!!” screams Wei Ying full of anger, Chenqing on his hands.

“Not people, just you!” she rages and storms in his direction.

No time to think about it. Wangji sways his sword to stop her. The woman to his surprise, takes a sword out of a shahs on her back just in time to stop him from cutting her in half.

They dance around, taking blows and stopping deathly hits. Shes no joking around, she truly wants to kill them, no explanation.

“WHY?” screams Wei Ying throwing more talismans than what Wangji can track, but she is so much experienced than expected.

She is definitely a cultivator, but her face is not one he remembers

“Who in this land does not want to kill you, Wei Wuxian?, haven't you killed enough people to warrant a revenge?”

“Too many to count!”, he says angered. “But I'm asking why did you attack my son?”

“Lan Wangji son!” she screams and, in her rage, she nicks him on the face. He frowns and looks at her feet.

He’s seen that before.

As soon as he thinks he seen it before, he knows where he’s seen it before. DeJa'Vu.

“This are Gusu Lan techniques, badly done.”

“Shup up!” she screams. “Bastard, fucking bastard, you got the gall to tell me that to my face”

Wei Ying stops long enough to examine her, then he throws into the battle again, dancing in the way the Yummeng Jiang Sect does when in defensive attack, but he does not carry a sword with him anymore. And just dances around, his back glued to his, as the woman desperately moves in look of an opening.

But with Wei Ying guarding his back, they both moving in tandem to the sound of an erratic dark melody. The restless souls in the woods come, ghostly lights in the shape of screaming faces.

No human voice's, empty expression forever etched in agony. Their voices are the cruel screams of the ghost flute.

She keeps the pace, never underestimate the power of anger and the thirst of revenge. And of course, never understimate a Gusu technique even when badly performed. But in the end, she slows down her attacks.

Shes starved, she's tired.

“Why do you want this revenge?!” grunts Wei Ying with the effort.

“Because I swearer to kill you both, that child too, if I could, and the opportunity presented itself”

“What did we do?!”

She roars and moves quicker in one more powerful blow. Shes erratic and she stumbles and yet, she still grazes him in the arm and then very nearly gives Wei Ying a poke. But because he thinks Wei Ying has too many scars. He moves lighting fast and shoves her out.

She falls to the ground with a hard hit. She bleeds from the deep wound he gave her on the shoulder. She hisses.

“Enough is enough” says Wei Ying. “I’ll give you one chace to break my sons curse. Or I'll kill you”

“I won't do it!” she grunts.”

“I'm just fine with it. Some people a better off this world”

“Why couldn’t you stay dead?”

“I don’t know what business I have with you, so you shouldn’t care about mine”

“Underserving bag of dirt” she spats. “You!..... you two!,..you killed my husband”

They both understand then.

“Who?” asks Wei Ying.

Ok, maybe just Wangji understands, but he can't blame him.

“Su she...” he says ending the mystery.

“Who?, ah?!, wait....that guy was married? and to a formidable cultivator?”

She begins laughing. “You ended my life. He was my world. We were very happy”

“He took wrong choices and bad turns” Wangji says. “He was a lying traitor”

Her laughter turns into crying. “Yes....but I loved him”

“You can still turn around, it's not late, whatever he might have done, your life should be spared. You can love again if you wish”

“As if...” she says looking at Wangji. “As if one can have more than a soul mate on one lifetime, you should know Lan Wangji”

He does. It is sometimes impossible. It's so rare to find even one. He can't imagine ever finding another soulmate. Not in the way Wei Ying is to him. He has never doubted that their fates are tied by romantic love from another lifetimes.

A tie so strong can only mean a wife or a husband. Otherwise, his lust is not necessary. Fate could have them as friends, as brothers, as any other thing. But he was born into a cut sleeve to make it work.

“Then its better if you go meet him soon” he says. Because he honestly thinks it's a mercy.

When Wen Ying was lost to him, he considered the possibility of just going after him. Another chance in another place, in another timeline.

He did not, because of their child. Said child was sick and hurting. And that made him pause. If he had given up, he might miss Wei Ying’s return.

“Do you have a keepsake of him?”

“No” she closes her eyes. “We couldn’t....”

“Then why did you hold on? if you don’t have...hope” he asks.

“Revenge is a hope” she says with frown. “Because I promised him at his grave”

“Thats bad...” Wei Ying says. “No matter what he did, he took some Karma he would have to repair later. And if you do more damage, you’ll lose your chance to meet him again, too busy repairing your own wrong doings”

“I don’t care anymore”

Wei Ying sighed. “Then....we.”

She scoffed. “Fuck you....I hate you so much, but the mere thought of ever seeing you again even if I don't know it's you, it's disgusting. I don't want to ever cross fates with you, I’ll let the boy live, but you better kill me, I'm done”

“I don’t want to do you wrong either” said Wei Ying slumping his shoulders.

“Coward” she said. She removed a wooded box out of her sleeve and the putrid remains of a heart were inside filled with needles and ribbons. She untied them all. “He should get better...” she sighed. “You are a such bastards, and I hope one day, you feel this pain again”

She took a dagger out and ended herself. The splatter covered the ground. Wei Ying flinched and looked away as she struggled for breath.

And that was the end of that.

+++7++++

The journey back was peaceful and quiet. Both of them too worried to resume their talk. They needed to know that Sizhui was safe.

But also, the woman's words were etched into their minds.

It sat heavily and unsaid.

++8++++

When they arrived at Gusu, they were informed that Sizhui was getting better. When they visited him, he was awake and full of questions.

Wangji still needed to reprimand him about the incident.

“Be more careful, be more vigilant. Some people would always look to do you harm, just because who your parents are....”

“You mean....”

“I feel responsible for you A-Yuan, when I joke and say I am like a mother to you, what I really mean is that I do love you like a son, I always did. You were so small...” Wei Ying says. “I'm sorry that would make your life harder. But I don’t regret it. Loving you as a father”

The boy blushed and nodded. “Thats...more than I can hope for and deserve, honestly”

“Nonsense, you are a sweet kid”

“I’ll be more careful from now on. It honestly passed my attention. I didn’t feel when she prickled me, but I should have checked out as soon as I felt it, it was just like a bug bite as the days passed”

“Yes, you should inform us at once whenever you feel something out of the ordinary. Your father is the chief cultivator and head of Gusu Lan after all. You are too burdened by us, but also, very, very loved”

“I will!” he says earnestly. Wangji feels a deep warm on his chest.

Even if they aren't husbands in the future, they still are fathers together.

+9+++

After two more days of rest, Sizhui is allowed to stand from the bed. They let him sit on the garden outside the infirmary, he sits on a warmed patch of grass. The sun over his head, book in hand.

Wangji and Wei Ying sit on the shaded porch of the budling drinking tea in pace.

It's very, very peaceful, and exactly what he needed. Those days are blurred with quiet happiness. A vacation of sorts to him.

“He shouldn’t stay in the sun to long unless he gets a hat” comments Wei Ying.

“um” he agrees.

“This feels too domestic”

“um?” he asks

“the three of us.... sitting here as time passes. I know it can't be like this all the time, but this stolen moment is perfect”

Wangji looks over at Sizhui and agrees.

“Maybe we should get another one....”

“Another one?...” he asks confused.

“Another child...” he smiles. “Just to keep stealing moments like this....”

He grunts a small smile.

“We could do that. Adopt another child in need. Educate him”

“Yes...”

“Because no one would bat an eyelash if we are married all good and proper”

Wangji looks quickly at him.

“Yeah...” Wei Ying smiles. “That woman made me think. It's true that soulmates are a rare gift from fate. This is my chance to be with you. Who knows when would I get the chance of finding you again? You are the one for me, we have known this since when were young. As an adult I can't deny that I was born for you. I have done too much damage, and I will be expected to repay all my wrong doings, I'm sure we’ll find each other again, but that’s a problem I don’t have right now”

“What about your fears?”

“Can it really get any worse than what has happened? I'm sure I won't be all very peaceful like this. I'm sure it would be hard and sometimes dark. But you are a light to me. You don’t have to run after me anymore. I'm done running. And I believe it is my time to sit beside you and wait. I’ll wait until you are done with whatever you need to do, and then, when we both are free with our time. We could do anything we want. And besides, I do have a knack for teaching”

Wangji took his hand.

“I’ll be a great life” said Wei Ying with a smile. An Wangji knew then, that it was true.

The race was over, but they’ll kelp walking beyond the finishing line.

#alightbuthappypen #wangxianLNY21 #*LNYfic21 #*LNYgifts21

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 40

Three days and the negatives were returned to you on a joint trip with the catering crew who were purchasing some more supplies in Alberta to have the best and some spares in case of emergency for the big day to go seamlessly. Already in long sheets of continued copies the images with the descriptions had been set aside to be cut later today while the bindings were being readied for when the images were cut. Lights and garlands were already being assembled through the cathedral and barn with stands for where the flowers would be secured. Tables were quadruple checked for spacing and locations through the barn you met James in the task to end with an amusing first tasting from the caterers for a lovely dinner for two finished off with a miniature sample cake that would be replicated larger for your wedding day.

Smiles and bashful stolen kisses led to a mock honeymoon evening once he got you home, bathed and rubbed down lovingly. Morning came and with it the beginning of another round of work in the larger manor, eventually you hoped to move in but until that big day it would be used to house the Brocks and Father Thomas while Professor Randolph would stay in your cabin along with Erik and Edie. Beds and supplies were loaded into the manor to have it guest ready for all the arrivals. Two weeks and in the middle of walking out of the house for another day arms looped around you with Dot and her cousin tugging you to the waiting car for an in town spa day to get your nails done, hair trimmed and a first try for the braided bun style helping to distract you from the hectic day following. Everyone was arriving and could only add to the growing momentum of the week would give way hopefully with ample loving people to add to the efforts to get everything done.

“Where’s our Marigold?!” The echoes through the main floor of the cabin opening your eyes a moment before sighing and settling back into James’ tightening arms keeping you against his chest with an irritated grumble. Louder the noise grew spoiling the late morning in you had hoped to have having timed their promised departure time clearly having been moved up to get here sooner. Thundering footsteps sounded up the steps and doors were opened until over the pair of you several bodies scrambled to dish out hugs and animated greetings to goad you both out of bed and to get dressed.

Alone and on your feet they left you to smooth your hands over your face in their race out as you said, “I’m up, I’ll find my pants.”

Their cheers faded and with a smirk your shirtless fiancé eased closer to you smoothing his hands around your middle lowering your hands. Warm and loving his lips found yours drawing you into his chest to guide you into the bathroom he locked the door for a long break before joining the collection of Brocks downstairs who pulled you into excited hugs. The smile you would hold split across your face hearing Mamma Brock saying, “Sorry Pop couldn’t make it, as we can’t risk the cameras.”

“Oh that’s fine.”

“But he will be watching,” Gina added with a nod.

Ambrose asked, “Where’s your cousin and aunt?”

“They’re coming a bit later with one of the band members, he had to make a trip to Alberta he’s gonna pick them up on the way back.” Mamma Brock’s focus turned to Norma to get her off her feet and comfortable while you claimed hold of Teddy to help Eddie join the gaggle of relatives to locate the manor that they would unpack their things into. They weren’t gone very long and returned with Father Thomas who was admiring the yard and garden around the cabin and came inside to travel to the church. Though to your shock you smirked seeing Elliot at his side sharing his own adoration of your property and home.

His smile crept wider in your accepting the Father’s greeting and he accepted your gentle handshake patting his hand on the back of yours saying, “This is such a lovely home.”

“Thank you, you flew in early?”

Father Thomas moved past you catching sight of Margaret to greet the infant and lowly Elliot said, “Used the BiFrost, hope you don’t mind. I am not trusting the planes available, hours trapped in their smoke filled tuna cans.”

“Oh no, no problem, is the big H good with, that?”

Softly he chuckled saying, “Heimdall is a giant caramel candy. Come on, even he won’t miss this day. This is historic, last time you were bound before physical essences were settled upon we get to watch the predestined crowning.”

“Please don’t make the wedding seem like some pre historic runes etched into a great ruin somewhere.”

“They’re on Asgard,” he said earning a chuckle inducing groan from you in a turn to show him to his room.

“I’ll show you your room.”

“I did mean it, this is a lovely home.”

“I wasn’t doubting that,” you chuckled replying in the turn down the side hall he was taking the first room on the right. “But you should see the manor the guys were hiding from us.”

“Heimdall gave me a visual tour. Seems perfect for when you have more children.” Onto the bed he settled his suitcase and turned post inspecting turn of the room to return with you to the group. Soothingly saying, “You are so very precious to us. We won’t allow anything to spoil your day. Now, let’s go and publicly welcome the newest Pear to the brood.”

“And here I thought finding out my dad was actually Jewish and let me be raised Catholic was the most difficult loose end for a wedding to be planned for me. Never would have guessed alien Queen might trump that.”

“Oh you are not an alien,” he said luring your eyes to him again, “Aliens have hooved tentacles, three heads and a form of communication involving the release of bodily gasses and interpretive dancing.”

“Wow,” you said in a flat sarcastic tone.

“Not even green, they turn every color but green which is quite the insult of a color for someone to turn in their realm.” He looked your face over saying, “They however would always take compliment on knowing you borrow the misused mortal term to label yourself in opposition to their race.”

“There you are Bunny, you can ride with us, along with your Professor Elliot.” Gina’s Husband said earning a nod from the man at your side who was pleased to see the town on the ride over and namely the church with telling stained glass murals recognized from the foretelling runes none could translate until now.

“How is the book coming?” rippled around next in the bed of the truck you had been squeezed into.

And you answered, “They’ve started binding them, this part is the longest.”

Elliot said, “Well I’ve planned on ordering a copy of my own when it comes out and have called in the news to the Barnard Professor phone tree for those on the Spring and Summer course duties who will no doubt pass on to the others in no time.”

“It’s just a copy of the same ones I took at school.”

Gina said, “You are gonna have a book! Not the same!”

Ambrose, “Not at all! Everyone in our block wants a Bunny book.”

“It’s eight bucks.”

Gina’s husband said, “Plenty of time to save for that. Two copies are going in the town library I can bet you that.”

Ambrose’s husband said, “And even in the Public Library you love if we have to sneak copies ourselves and stash them in the art shelves.”

“Oh I can just imagine those headlines when they are found. Not a thievery but cluttering the shelves of the Public Library with picture books.”

Gina, “You live in that library, the Librarian alone would find a spot for your book after signing her copy.”

Ambrose asked seeing the outside of the church, “That the church?”

You said, “Yes, you should see the inside.”

As soon as the cars were parked the family all poured out of the vehicles and Victor led the way through the front doors with Father Thomas beside him sharing about the church room uses until you got to the cathedral that dropped jaws. For an added surprise also a bit eager to have arrived early Erik and Edie followed the town murmurs and were dropped off here after a stop at the cabin to leave their bags there. Pleased for his preparedness with a thermos and flask of holy water on his person, around the baptismal stand you all encircled. Against James’ side you leaned with view of your niece being blessed and named while Teddy watched on Victor’s hip more than a bit confused.

“I baptize thee, Marigold Dove Pear,” The Father managed to get to before Teddy cut in.

“Small tub, we need more tub.”

Victor chuckled with the others and Victor tried to hushedly simplify that this was a special tradition for babies in the family after they’re born. “Keeps you safe.”

Of course that led to a halfway logical conclusion from the boy that bedtime baths were some form of protection and then had him asking where the magical soap was for her protecting bubbles, as he had never had a bath he could remember without bubbles. Ambrose’s husband took him on a stroll through the church in search of some magic soap with the excited other kids who just wanted to look around now that the pictures and everything was done leaving you giggling in James’ hold to his agreeing chuckles.

Father Thomas however when your giggles ceased drew your eye saying with a smile, “What better time to have a quick run through. Have you got your wedding license yet?”

James glanced at the Judge who snuck in saying, “Got it right here, managed to get the both of them their request form last week and this came in last night.”

The Priest smiled saying, “Good, very good,” accepting the folded license he added to the front cover of his bible. “Ok, so now bridal party? Full run through just to dust things off.” Everyone lined up and nicely Victor sat Norma down by the Brocks to let her rest her feet again while the Father nodded his head knowing Victor and Dawn were your two chosen witnesses.

The rest of the family split to fill the seats you gestured to, “This side’s for family,” Your eyes fell on Edie and Erik saying, “If you’ll join us, guess we can do the whole walk up.”

Father Thomas chuckled guiding James to his spot near the steps of the alter and turned to go with the rest of you to the doors at the other end of the hall where he said, “I go in first. Chosen children to scuffle their way down,” spreading smirks through the group in your stolen glance to James at the other end of the hall trying to ignore his urge to force this along and sign the license and be at least legally married already. “Then Victor and Dawn as Witnesses, then?”

You said, “Dot and David,” the pair nodded and linked up with Dot’s cousin and Erik next at your naming them with Gina and Ambrose next beside their husbands, all already on the verge of crying. You murmured teasingly, “No blubbering or none of us will get through this or the actual ceremony.” Luring their grins out and the Father nodded as you said, “And Eddie and my aunt are both walking me down.” You confirmed with a glance at her she answered with an agreeing nod she still wanted to.

Right behind the Father the lot of you made your way on more of a casual stroll back to the alter where two of the women adjusting flowers moved the traditional kneeling stools into place for you both the Father nodded in thanks, “Ah, yes, thank you. Brother and Aunt lift veil and move to their seats in the front,” he said taking your hand to guide you up to James’ side as the others filled up the front row of the family side of the pews. “The both of you would go up to the stools and kneel,” his head turned to Gina and Ambrose saying, “Two lovely scriptures have been given to Gina and Ambrose, there is the first song between them, the pair of you stand and Hallelujah to follow. I read, you kneel again.” he said pausing with a smile he struggled not to show, “Let’s you rest your feet for my main speech. Which I do believe won’t be a bit too long winded for our special guests unfamiliar with our ceremonies.”

Victor said, “They’ll survive the evening,” earning a few chuckles in return.

Father Thomas says, “Now the both of you face the congregation, and Bridal Party comes out on your sides.” Bridesmaids on your side came into place with the Groomsmen down the steps and in a sort of circle open where the Father would stand as Eddie confirmed for Edie she could remain in her seat beside him. He turned to the empty spot watching James’ hand fold around your hand to calm your shared nerves.

“James and Jaqiearae you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love. In the presence of the church’s minister and this community. God has abundantly blessed love. He’s consecrated both of you. He now enriches and strengthens you by the sacred sacrament. So that you can assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. And so I ask both of you now to state your intentions.

James, Jaqiearae, have you come here freely and without reservation? To give yourselves to each other in the sacrament of marriage? Will you say I Do?”

His brows rose and you both chuckled repeating, “I do.”

“Will you love and honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will”

“Will you accept children lovingly from God, bring them up according to the law of our God and of our community? Will you say I Will?”

Both say, “I will.”

“It is your intention then to enter into marriage. Turn to each other, with your still joined hands, and declare your intentions before God.”

“Now come the names, um, I forgot to ask, what is your middle name James?”

Victor smirked in James’ pausing anxious grin luring your curious grin out that split into an awkward smile at his answering, “Pluto,” clearing his throat after echoed by a loud laugh from Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said to the Father in James’ look at him in his second laugh.

James, “What’s so funny about my middle name?”

Eddie shook his head, “Oh there’s nothing funny, you just match is all.”

He looked at you and you turned your head back from a glance away and you flashed him a quick grin, “Mine’s Persephone.” Causing his smile to split wider along with those from the crowd who understood while Elliot his hid smile behind his curled fist over his mouth to keep from making any noise from excitement.

“I, James Pluto Howlett, take you Jaqiearae Persephone Pear to be my wife.

I promise to be truthful.

In good times, and in bad.

In sickness and in health.

I will love you and I will honor you.

All the days of my life.”

He smiled and repeated each line and listened to you take your turns with the same vows simply reversing the names.

“My sister and my brother you have just declared your consent. Before God and before the church, may our Lord in his goodness strengthen that consent and fill you now both with his blessings. What God joins together let no men ever sever. Amen. Amen is repeated by congregation and couple. Now, rings,”

He turned his head and you said to Erik, “We have a tray for you for that day.”

James nodded saying easing his grin out, “Yes, the rings are at home.”

Father Thomas nodded and turned miming accepting the rings from Erik and turning to the eldest of girls from the Brocks who held up her hands miming a second tray, “I take the rings to this angel’s tray, bless the rings, then turn, and offer them to the couple.” He turned around again. “James says, Jaqiearae take this ring. As a sign of my love and faithfulness. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen. Eases ring on then she repeats the same and then I turn, we congratulate the couple then begin the Prayers of the Faithful. Loving couple turn again to kneel.”

He motioned his hand and Eddie helped Edie to her feet to say, “Brother and Aunt bring up the sacred wedding lasso that will be draped over your shoulders. Now I give the Euchratic Prayer, the rosary is removed, you return to your seats. Couple stands, facing the crowd for an Our Father. We embrace one another after this, James and Jaqi, you go down to embrace your family and then return for your own personal communion. After this I inform the congregation that those willing are welcome for congregations or blessings with the remainder unwilling to receive it are welcome to remain in their seats.”

His eyes focused on you, “I do believe that King George and President Truman would find than an acceptable out to remain seated.”

“Either way it’d be rude for them to just storm out.” You said making him chuckle.

“Yes, then everyone back in their seats, the both of you go to pray to the Virgin and leave the offering of flowers and then return here, I speak to you all again offering a prayer and then I introduce the both of you, and Jaqi you are taking the Howlett name?”

“Keeping both, actually.”

He smirked and nodded saying, “Good, we welcome you, then you lead the congregation out to the reception, which will be-.”

James, “In the barn.” He said and that began the trip to the reception hall.

Two days, just two days out and in a sea of pots of flowers inside a greenhouse you eyed your choice of flowers for your bouquets. Yours being blue roses and blue and white calla lilies paired with the white rose and blue orchids for your bridal party, each girl got bundles of forget me nots and daisies the following day would be cut and assembled to be fresh for the ceremony. Those would be first and the rest of the lilies and roses in bright colors were to be added to their white counterparts through the barn seating arrangements that James was keeping himself distracted to perfect how everything was lined up.

First off the filming crew took the long drive and came to set up the cameras in the sides of the cathedral well out of the way from where others would be. A group of attendants from both King George’s security and the security team for President Truman. Who both arrived and got the full rundown on the ceremony including a mention you were certain to give them both of the communion portion they were able to return and hand over the schedule to know when they could work their ways in and out of the city to return to their return flight back to Ottowa.

Off on your own under the night sky you sat alone on the roof staring off at the stars with your mind locked down from focus on the rough day ahead. A telling scent of cocoa turned your head and with a grin James was seen standing from his spot kneeling on the roof he strolled across to sit down beside you, mugs and wrapped grilled cheeses in hand. “Someone ate all the deli meat we had.”

“That’d be Timmy.” You said accepting your helping and the second mug.

“Ah,” he replied and eased his eyes over your face saying, “Big day’s going to be lovely.”

You turned your head and sighed, “You know what’s difficult about having a Catholic wedding?” His smile spread as you said, “Having it be a Catholic wedding. Up, down, up down, then there’s singing that most of the guys coming probably won’t know. Does anyone in the town actually remember what a full catholic wedding is? I’m surprised Father Thomas does with all the eloping going around Brooklyn. Now I’ve got you saddled to this.”

Lowly he chuckled and replied, “I love you and this ceremony is nowhere near as long as the weddings I grew up attending. I love you,” he repeated scooting a bit closer to you, “Your mother wanted you to have a good Catholic wedding and to be an upstanding woman in town. I want that for you, to honor her, and your family. I don’t care how many steps it takes, been six years since we met, I can go half an hour at take mass to marry you. One day, just one they can all tag in on then we get three days, you, me and that honeymoon cabin. Cuddled up in bed for mornings and we can fish and swim and laze about in the sun and warm grass.”

“Three days?”

He chuckled and said, “We can make it five, then for a time at least the whole world lets up, for a little bit.”

“We’re going to promise in front of the world to have babies, on tv, there will be people betting I’m feet up grunting nine months from tomorrow.”

That had him laugh at your shrug and lift of the mug and he said, “Well we’ll just have to bet against them then won’t we, drive them crazy and wait six years for it.”

You giggled in his stolen kiss to your temple in your lean into his side triggering his arm easing around your middle, “We are not waiting six years. Gina’s been married six years and she’s got-,”

“What she’s got, and we are not pushing babies,” he said locking his eyes on yours in your eyes locking on his face through a tilt of your head backwards, “No forced babies, no expectations. This is our marriage, not a check list. Babies arrive when they mean to Teddy is proof of that enough that one day they can just pop up like a thunder storm.”

“I still don’t want to wait six years, I’d be 27.”

He sighed and said, “Women don’t have to rush into this nowadays, women survive longer and are being nourished to survive childbirth, however, if you’re worried about being taken as a spinster,” that made you giggle and roll your eyes, “We won’t wait six years.”

“I suppose it’s a bit odd to be worried on getting pregnant when I can get shot in the chest and heal right off. Getting pregnant shouldn’t be hard. Though labor might be puzzling. I mean what happens if the baby is halfway out and my body starts healing itself already?”

That had him chuckle in your calming bite of your grilled cheese, “I highly doubt that would happen. Baby’s gonna grow inside of you, be half you, it’s not like a bullet, if anything your body would get the baby safely out and then you heal.”

“If it does get stuck, and the Doc has to do a cesarean,”

His head tilted to catch your eye, “You mean cut you?”

You nodded and said, “I mean, I should heal, if, the cut would, be safer, for the baby…”

He simply sighed and said, “Doc will make sure you both make it through safely. For now, we’re getting married tomorrow. We can talk about how we’re going to sleep tomorrow night, did you want to sleep apart?”

“Doubt I could sleep if they try to shove you in another bed somewhere, the kids have already taken up your old bed, they want to stay here because the windows show too much blue in their room.” That had him chuckle. “I think they just like the animal heads.” You said taking another bite of your grilled cheese.

“Either way the parents could use a night off, and I could always use a blindfold if you like.”

“How is that supposed to work?”

“Vic can come and pull me out in the morning.” He said and took a sip and bite while you chewed your mouthful.

Pt 41

#The Rehearsals #Brocks Arrive #Professor Elliot Randolph #James Howlett x Reader OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Baptism #Tour of the Church and Barn #Nighttime talks and worries

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a-fanatic-fangirl-requests · 4 years

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I'm so glad you write for Gaara as well! For my request I was wondering if I could request a bit of angst but with a good ending. When they have a day off, he and his s/o are working in their shared garden together when suddenly s/o gets bitten by a snake that was hiding between the plants and they need to get rushed to the hospital because of the poison. They do get better, luckily and maybe Gaara helps them rehabilitate? Thank you in advance!

So, now that I’m actually answering this, I admit it may not be as angsty as I would have liked it. But…I still think it’s a cute one with a good ending! I hope you like it! I also made the reader gender neutral in this one since it was a bit easier to do than some of my other ones.

As Beneath, So Above (Gaara x Reader)

Warning(s): Angsty, poison, injury, I dunno

Word Count: 2,263

An annoyed groan filled the air of the lush rooftop garden. You had attempted to hang a potted plant on a post, but it was just out of your reach, even with your (H/F) stature. But as soon as the annoyed groan was about to pass your lips, the soft sound of sand moving surrounded you. Glancing down, you saw sand gathering to give you that extra height you needed. “Thank you, Gaara.” You hummed as you hung up the plant, turning it a bit to be exactly how you wanted it. The sand eased you back down onto the ground and you had turned to your husband. “Thanks for not watching me struggle. I’m sure Kankuro would have had a good laugh.”

“I’m not my brother.” He said softly, carefully pulling any weeds that had somehow managed to get up there.

“I know, I know. That’s why I married you after all.” You said, walking over to take sit next to him, the faintest tinge of pink dusting his cheeks.

“And I am grateful.”

You leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Me too. Especially since you took the day off.”

“We both needed it.” He replied, his focus still on the care of the garden he made for the two of you. Coming from Konoha where things were considerably more lively in terms of vegetation compared to the desert in Suna, Gaara thought it would be a nice wedding gift to give you and that the both of you could take care of.

However, with water scarce, it was hard to keep the plants properly watered. That’s why you opted for more rugged plants that could withstand going without water for a while if something happened. But, you had set up an irrigation system that pulled water from underground. This system eventually became implemented throughout the village, effectively ending any possible water shortage. It was the rule though, that water still be used in moderation if possible.

It was this work that you were taking a break from. You were almost done with it too and as to celebrate, Gaara suggested to rearrange the garden a bit.

Much better with your mind, tools, and hands, you were no ninja—but still prideful in getting things done yourself. But when it came to lifting heavy loads, that’s where Gaara came in. His sand, and sometimes himself aided you greatly. He could move and change soil far easier than you could, so you let him.

“(F/N)?” A quiet voice asked, making you jump a little. It seems you spaced out under the warm sun and leaning on your husband’s shoulder.

“Yes?” You asked, looking back at him with wide (E/C) eyes.

He pointed a pale finger near where the door of the roof was. “Would you mind planting those flowers? The weeding is taking longer than expected.” It always took longer than expected, not that it was a bad thing. Gaara made sure that no weed had even a chance to pop up if he had anything to do about it. He couldn’t let it ruin the hard work the both of you have done.

Nodding your head, you ran your hands over your (H/T) (H/C) hair. The wooden crate the potted flowers sat in didn’t seem too heavy. Although, it took you a moment to lift them up after some much-needed self-encouragement. Taking them over to a corner and setting them down, you had to smile a little at how wonderful your life was and basked it all in.

Gaara’s gaze had been on you when he noticed you struggle to pick up the box. He sometimes forgot that you didn’t have the strength of shinobi—after all, working day in and day out with them makes it hard to remember not everyone was one—so he was about to get up and help you before you lifted it up and slowly made your way to one of the empty corners. A smile graced his features as he watched you, (S/C) skin illuminated by the desert sun, the gentle breeze ruffling your (H/L) hair, he was so glad he literally ran into you all those years ago.

He turned back to his weeding task to give you your peace and let you accomplish the task yourself.

You gently removed the flowers from the pots, crumbling the soil away a bit to break up the packed roots after having dug a small hole for the flowers to be placed in. One by one, you did this until you picked up one of the pots, it felt a bit heavier than the other ones. Shrugging it off, you stuck your fingers around the edge of the soil to loosen it before you pulled it out.

All was going well until you felt a sharp sting to the top of your hand, making you recoil and drop the clay pot, it shattered against the ground.

The sudden noise made Gaara turn around, wanting to make sure you were ok. However, the moment he saw a snake slither away into one of the bushes made his heart drop.

“Gaara? I don’t…feel so good….” You mumbled.

He immediately appeared beside you, taking your hand in his to examine it. The puncture wound was quickly turning purple and your shivering form and the snake’s appearance made him fear the worst: poison.

The Kazekage picked you up in his arms and jumped off the roof, letting his sand rush him to the medical center. You would be ok. You had to be. “Stay awake. We’re almost there.”

You did your best to nod. “I’ll try.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes at how fast the pain was spreading. It felt like your veins were on fire. His hold on you tightened the more you began to shiver and pant. “Who knew…something so small…could be so strong?” In a situation like this, you had to do your best to try and laugh it off.

Gaara had given you a look as if you had gone mad. How were you being so calm? “I…suppose that is the case.” He answered back, still not liking how your body was reacting to the poison at all as it tried to fight it off.

He quickly made his way into the hospital, with everyone from ninja, nurses, and the injured or ill stopped what they were doing to look at the worried Gaara. It wasn’t everyday that the Kazekage appeared, much less looking so concerned.

He quickly kept walking, nearly running, past the admittance area as he knew where he was going and what needed to be done. There was a poison specialist that would surely be able to help you. Gaara had one trained due to the amount of different poisons people come across in the area.

The specialist was a little shocked as well to see the ninja leader but let them lay you on a bed. By now, your body was covered in sweat and shivering even worse. He looked towards the doctor as he knelt and held your non-injured hand. “Help them.” He commanded, to which they immediately went over and examined the darkened puncture wound.

“It’s good you brought them here when you did. This is a nasty poison.” They went to their shelf and began to quickly mix a concoction.

As they did, your vision began to blur a bit as you looked towards Gaara. His hands trembled in yours and you gave a small chuckle. “It’s ok. I’ll be just fine.” You told him to which he squeezed your hand harder.

“How can you know?” Of course, he wanted you to get better. But, he couldn’t have someone lie to his face if it wasn’t the truth.

You shrugged as the specialist hurried over, “I just know.” Gaara helped you sit up as he took the glass of an odd green color.

“Have them drink this, it’ll help expel the pois—” That was all he needed to hear, and he all but immediately raised it to your lips and had you down it. You nearly gagged because of the horrible taste and from how fast he was trying to get it in your system.

Once it was empty, you panted a little and looked up at your husband. “I said I would be fine.” You breathed out, feeling the shivers slowly subside. Turning back to the relieved specialist—who definitely did not want to be responsible for the death of the Kazekage’s spouse—did you ask, “So, how will this get expelled?” As if on cue, you felt bile reach the back of your throat and you lurched to the side to see the specialist ready with a pail that you quickly vomited into.

“It essentially pulls the poison from your body, concentrating it in your stomach while being suspended in the liquid.” They were cut off once again as more vomit spilled from your lips, a soothing hand beginning to rub your back. “It will be a while until it subsides.” They took the hand where the puncture wound was. “However, the hand and arm may need some special attention.”

“What do you mean?” Gaara asked, continuing to rub your back as he sensed another round about to happen.

“Well, the poison injured the muscles, making them a bit stiffer. They’ll need help and physical therapy as well.” You groaned as another spell hit you, making you empty your stomach again. “I’m sorry, but that’s still the best case scenario.”

Gaara nodded in understanding. In your line of work, you needed to use your hands on a daily basis. But…it was far better from him losing you. “Thank you. We will get on that as soon as we can.”

The poison specialist smiled, letting you hold onto the pail as they got the rest of their lunch and left the room. It seems it was their lunch break and you happened to interrupt that—for a good reason though.

Tears had long formed in your eyes, both from expelling the poison through your mouth and how you would be out of work for a while. “What am I going to do?” You whimpered, slouched over the pail.

“I’ll help you through it.” Gaara said without a question of a doubt. “I’ve had to go through several muscle injuries and physical therapy from my training. I’m well-versed enough to help.” Plus, there was no way he was going to let someone else try and help. Seeing as no one else was in the room, he crawled behind you, his legs on either side of yours and his frame supporting you. He took your hand and indeed noticed how stiff it had become, along with the rest of your arm. His pale fingers intertwined with yours, pulling them outwards and holding for a few seconds while you hissed in pain. “I know, I know. But we cannot let this sit. It will only be worse if we do.” He then pressed down, letting your fingers ball into a fist. He did this a few times until you emptied your stomach again. “We will stop with that.”

You gave a breathy laugh, leaning against his chest. “You think?” You smirked, knowing that what you’re experiencing was no where near the pain he has felt from his time as a ninja. But, you weren’t one and your pain tolerance was different. Thankfully, Gaara knew and understood that.

“Do you feel like there is any more?” He asked, rubbing your back after having vomited a couple more times.

Shaking your head, your (H/C) tresses brushing against him, you replied, “I think I’m done.”

Gaara smiled and nodded, setting the very full pail aside and picking the both of you up off the bed. “Let’s head home.”

You gave a tired nod before your eyes went wide. “Wait! The garden!” A shocked stare was what you got in return. “What?” You asked.

Your husband sighed and placed a gentle kiss to your head. “You and your priorities,” he muttered, pulling the window open and opting for leaving that route instead of going out the front doors and towards prying eyes. “You need to take care of yourself, (F/N).”

Snuggling your face into his neck, “I will, because I know you won’t let me out of your sight till I’m better.” He hummed in agreement, proud to accept that he wouldn’t completely abandon his spouse in their time of need.

Placing another kiss to her head as they floated back towards their home, the sun setting casting a peaceful glow over the Sand Village, he breathed a sigh of contentment. “You’re my most privileged responsibility. As much as I love them, you are above my siblings; above the village.” He motioned to the buildings under him. “All because you said ‘yes’. I will take care of you, forever and always.”

You blinked up at him, your (E/C) eyes wide. Slowly, color began to tinge your cheeks as you all but teared up at the confession of love he gave. “I love you, Gaara. Thank you for giving me this life.”

Even though he wanted to interject and ask how it was good that he let you get injured by a snake of all things, that could wait for later. Raising you up a bit, he kissed your lips and lingered for a moment. “No, thank you for giving me someone to love, and be loved back.” He whispered against them, knowing that you will completely be all right.

#gaara x reader #gaaraxreader #gaara of the sand #gaara of the desert #Naruto x reader #narutoxreader #gaara imagines #gaara imagine #gaara scenarios #gaara scenario #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #xreader #x reader #anime x reader #animexreader #reader request #writing requests

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