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worseforwords · 1 year

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Barcelona Breathlessness (Ona Batlle x Reader)

Here it is: the fourth and final part of this series. I strongly recommend you read the other parts first. You can find them here: Part 1: Manchester Meet-cute, Part 2: Manchester Memories, Part 3: Barcelona Beginnings.

“Hi, come in.” You said softly, the expression on Ona’s face sending shivers down your spine as you stepped aside to let her into your new home. “Want something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?” “Just a water, please.” She said as she stiffly sat herself down on your couch. You poured two glasses of water and joined her on the couch, leaving some space between the two of you so you could turn and look at her. Ona however, kept her gaze straight ahead, fidgeting with something she was holding. When you looked down at her hands to see what it was, you felt your stomach drop: it was the little lion necklace. “I wanted to give this back.” She said numbly when she noticed you staring at her hands. “Oh.” Was all you could manage to get out as you felt your heart shatter. You sat there in silence for a bit, both avoiding eye contact. You knew she was with someone else, which kind of hurt, but this felt like an unnecessary added punch to the stomach whilst you were already down.

“Why did you keep it all this time?” You finally managed to get out. “It was a nice reminder to make the most out of everything and not to worry too much about the future. You know, Hakuna Matata.” She finally looked at you when she said those last words, only to quickly look away again when she continued. “But now, when I look at it, all I do is worry, so you can have it back.” She handed you the piece of jewellery. For a second there, you thought you caught some resentment in her voice. Your heart sunk to the floor at her harsh words as you tried to fight the tears from flooding your eyes. Once again you attempted to push down everything you felt, sending you into a numb state of coldness. When you didn’t move to take the necklace from her, Ona put it down on your coffee table. Even though very few words were exchanged, the actions spoke loud enough and it had become clear as day to you that she didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. “So did you come over just to give me that?” You asked heartlessly, pointing at the necklace on the coffee table. She looked up at you in disbelieve. “How do you do that?” She asked in a defeated tone. “Do what?” “How do you just turn everything off and become completely cold? At first I thought you might have changed, but I refuse to believe this is what you have become.” You thought about her confrontational question for a bit before saying: “I am just trying to protect myself.” “Protect yourself from what?” She asked, bewildered. “From you, Ona.” You said quietly as you deliberately kept your gaze away from her.

When no sound came from the other side of the couch for the next minute or so, you couldn’t help but to turn back around and check on Ona. You were met with the heartbreaking sight of Ona with her face buried into her hands and you noticed some tears escaping. You couldn’t maintain your numbness, as the sight immediately tore down all the walls you had just built up. “I’m sorry.” You said, as a single tear now also fled your eye, whilst you tried to find the right words to say. “Look,” you started. “back in Manchester, we had a magical time and I fell for you and your beautiful hazel eyes way faster than I have ever fallen for anyone.” She finally removed her hands to look up at you with said hazel eyes and you swallowed before you continued. “It was short and sweet, so, so very sweet, but also very short. It was sad when it ended, but we always knew that was going to happen. I always have cherished the memories we made and I never regretted it for a single second, but when I got back to my normal life I moved on, I truly did.” She looked up at the ceiling as you saw tears filling her eyes again, so you quickly carried on. “But then I saw you again earlier this week and it was like the old butterflies I had for you instantly woke up from their 4 year coma.” Her gaze went right back to your eyes, as if she was verifying that you were being genuine. “So, I don’t think I can be just friends with you, Ona. I tried to be platonic but it just came out as cold and heartless.” Ona remained quiet, now staring at her shoes.

“Can you please say something?” You pleaded. You knew she was probably just gathering her thoughts before speaking, but the silence was killing you as seconds felt like hours after everything you just confessed. You were focussing on keeping your breathing in tact, when Ona suddenly rose up from the couch. Thinking she was going to leave, you also got up to try and stop her. “Ona, please don’t - I - I take it al b-” You were stopped in your blurting when you noticed she wasn’t leaving, instead taking two steps towards you. She was now only a few inches away from you, and whispered “Don’t.” whilst softly grabbing your chin in between her thumb and index finger. You slightly opened your mouth, but no words came out as your heart started racing due to the close proximity you were in, desperately awaiting her next move. She used her thumb to pull your face down, which could only be a sign that the smaller girl wanted to have your lips at an approachable hight. Your breath hitched as she slowly moved closer to you, almost closing the gap between you when you gathered all your courage to abruptly move away from her. “Not like this.” You said as she send you a puzzled look. “Not like what?” She asked. “Not when you’re with someone else.” You said, standing your ground. “When I’m WHAT?” She said stumped. “Don’t act all innocent now, I know you’re with someone, I saw the photos.” You said, to which Ona’s eyes widened instantly. “I can’t believe it. That’s what this was about? Oh my god Y/N why didn’t you just ask me about it?” She exclaimed, now pacing the room. “I guess I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You said softly. “Well you need to stop doing that, it’s clearly not working!” She shouted. “Clearly.” You mumbled. “Y/N,” she stopped her pacing to turn back to you and firmly grab your face with both hands, as you were obviously still clueless as to what she was trying to say, “we broke up almost two months ago!”

Time stood still for a second as all you wanted to do was smack yourself in the face with the most solid object you could find. This was all your fault. Once again you had managed to ruin something that could’ve been great thanks to your lack of communication. Ona was right, if only you had listened to Amy and just asked her about it. Your mind went back to the present as you realised you must have been staring into space all flustered with wide eyes for at least a minute, looking like some kind of maniac. You noticed Ona staring at you frantically, awaiting your respons. You cleared your throat. “I-” You started. “I really don’t know what to say. I’m sorry?” “Was that a question?” She scoffed. “No, no, I’m sorry. I really am. You’re right, I should’ve asked instead of making assumptions. I’m sorry for ruining everything.” You breathed out, and her frantic expression started to soften ever so slightly. “Did I though? Ruin it, I mean?” You asked carefully to which a soft expression with a hint of compassion appeared on Ona’s face as she contemplated how to answer your question.

Before she could answer however, you walked over to the coffee table to grab the little lion necklace. “May I?” You asked, slowly moving it up to her neck. She nodded, and you softly held the little lion onto her collarbone, moving one hand to the back of her neck to close the golden chain. You struggled with the clasp for a second, making her giggle slightly. When you finally succeeded, you left your hand where it had been, now softly caressing the back of her neck. You leaned down slowly, to place a delicate kiss on the little lion rested on her chest. When you noticed Ona closing her eyes, you moved your mouth to her ear. “Hakuna Matata.” You whispered, before gently kissing her cheek. Her breath hitched at your subtle touches, and you placed another kiss on her cheek, to then slowly move down her jaw. The kisses were brief and so very soft, but you could still taste the saltiness from the previously shed tears on her skin. You continued until no part of her face was left untouched by you lips, except from her mouth. The latter you bypassed because you didn’t want to move there without her reciprocation.

When you eventually moved away, Ona slowly opened her eyes, glancing into yours longingly straight away. You both simultaneously let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourselves down a bit, before Ona pulled you into a tight hug. “You didn’t.” She whispered, finally answering the question you asked earlier. A soft smile appeared on your face as you pulled away from the embrace to look at her again. Your eyes started watering once more, but this time with tears of relief.

“So, erm, what now?” You asked, to which the both of you started giggling. The laughter felt great, finally enabling you to release some of the tension built up in your body. “I have a day off tomorrow, want to go do something fun?” She asked. “Yes, it’s a date!” You answered, making the both of you chuckle again at the reference, before her face returned to a more serious expression. “Let’s take things slow this time, actually built something, okay?” Ona said wisely, to which you nodded in agreement. “Shit,” Ona’s expression suddenly changed as she glimpsed at the clock, “I have to go, training.” She hurried herself out the door, but not before hugging you one last time, squeezing tightly. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” You closed the door when she was out of view and immediately plopped down on the couch, letting out a big sigh. The rest of the day went by quickly, and by the time you were in bed, you still had a big, fat grin on your face you could not get rid off even if you wanted to.

For your distinctly labeled date, you decided to have a nice beach day. Once again, you nervously shot up straight upon hearing the doorbell. This time however, it was a good kind of nervous, the excited kind. You quickly grabbed your bag and ran towards the front door. “Hi!” You definitely preferred this cute smile on the girl standing in front of you over yesterdays expression. “Hi, Ona.” You smiled back broadly as you both got in her car to drive to the beach.

The weather was perfect, which was of course to be expected on a Barcelona beach day: blue skies and sunshine. Ona had taken you to a beach a bit further away from the city, so it was rather quiet. You both put your towels down on the sand, and you rummaged in your bag to find some sunscreen. You applied some of it on your face and arms, and then took of your shirt to rub some on your belly and chest, thereby exposing the bikini top that you already had on underneath it. You looked to you side to see Ona had stopped doing whatever she was doing before, and she was clearly eying you up, before quickly looking at the sky when she noticed you had caught her. “Something wrong?” You giggled. “Wha- I wasn’t-” her face started heating up. “I think those cheeks could use some sunscreen too.” You interrupted her nervous rambling, handing her the bottle, which she then snatched out of your hands. She took off her shirt as well and you swallowed hard. It was now your turn to try to hide the flustered expression on your face as your eyes scanned her abs that had only grown more toned in the past 4 years, her soft skin that you had gotten only a small taste of yesterday and her strong arms that could easily pick you up, or pin you down, or so many other things. “Can I help you with your back?” Ona asked, waking you from your daydream, only just before you started drooling. “Yes, please.” You quickly turned to lie down on your stomach, not missing the smirk on her face in the process.

She started off softly, dainty little strokes of cold lotion, sending shivers down your spine. She took her time, gently caressing every inch of your back until the friction and the sun started warming you up. She slowly added more force to her movements, firmly pushing her thumb into all of your back muscles, massaging you into a state of pure bliss. You soon woke up from this state however, upon realising how your muscles must feel like tiny pockets of mashed potatoes to her and her athletic body, so you quickly turned around. “My turn!” You yelled as you basically launched her off of you, rolling her onto her stomach, making her gasp and then giggle at the sudden movements. You took a moment to admire her figure, before tracing her tattoos with some sunscreen on your fingertips. Some you recognised, others were new. You felt Ona tense up slightly when you moved towards her left shoulder. You stopped moving your hands when you saw why. “How long have you had this?” You asked softly. “About 4 years.” She mumbled, looking as far away from you as possible. You moved your hands to her arms and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the tattoo on top of her shoulder. “Hakuna Matata” it read.

When you were both fully covered in sunscreen, you decided to take a dip in the Mediterranean Sea. Ona of course, being a both an athlete and a Catalonian, swam like a mermaid whilst you tried to keep up with her, splashing around like a dog. You laughed as Ona attempted to impress you with an underwater handstand and summersault, and she laughed when you desperately held onto her as the waves almost carried you away. You swam around and played with a beach ball for a bit, until both of you got tired, well, you were pretty sure she just pretended to be tired to make you feel better, as she carried you out of the water and all the way back with her strong arms.

She laid you back down on your towel before plopping down next to you. You lay on your stomach, head resting on your arms and you glanced at the Catalonian girl you never wanted to stop staring at whilst the sun heated up your body. As your skin absorbed the warmth, you felt your body relax and your brain becoming foggy. You closed your eyes and the world faded away for what felt like a second, before the smell of Mediterranean herbs woke you up. You opened your eyes to find an empty towel next to you and you slowly lifted your head. “Hi there, sleepyhead” A soft voice called out from behind you. You turn around to discover you had been out for a while, because Ona had prepared you a whole picnic in the mean time. She had brought some home cooked meals, like a Spanish omelet, some bread and dips, and even some wine. “Hi,” You spoke softly, “what’s all this?” “Well, dormilona, you don’t go out with a Spaniard without them bringing lots and lots of food.” You looked at her with the tenderest of smiles, while you sat yourself up straight. “Ona,” you said wholeheartedly, “this is adorable. Thank you so, so much.”

When you had both thoroughly filled up on the delicious food and wine, you sat back in silence for a bit, as dusk began to fall, before Ona got up and held her hand out to help you up as well. She dragged you along for a bit, eventually ending up at the far end of a pier. There you stood, amid the quietly rippling sea, with a dazzling view of the setting sun, and an even better view of the girl still holding onto your hand. “Wow.” Was all you could say, breathing in deeply to inhale the smells of the salty sea whilst taking it all in. “I feel like I’m dreaming.” “You’re not.” Ona replied as she put her other hand on your cheek, turning you to fully face her. You softly settled your free hand on her waist as you locked eyes and you slowly leaned in. She tilted her face up slightly, thereby making her lips accessible to yours. You closed your eyes and your heart started racing as you savoured the drumroll right before closing the final bit of space left between you, landing into a gentle kiss. At first you both remained still, carrying each other’s lips like you would in a tight embrace. You both woke up from the initial tranquility when you let go of Ona’s hand to move your now free hand up to the side of her neck, tracing her jaw with your thumb. Both your lips engaged in a delicate dance of lustful lips, noses inhaling the same fragment of air left between the two you. Hands were now clutching onto jaws, necks, hair and waists desperately, not wanting this moment to ever end. When you did eventually pull apart, the sun had almost fully set. “Wow.” Ona broke the silence. “Wow indeed.”

You packed up your towels and belongings and drove home in a comfortable silence, as you were both still speechless from the kiss. When you arrived at your doorstep, you fell into a tight embrace, with neither of you wanting to let go. You hesitated for a bit, knowing very well what you had agreed upon yesterday, before asking: “Do you want to come in?” “Yeah.” She answered, and you held the door open for her. No time was wasted on movies or drinks this time, as she immediately lifted you up by your hips to push you up against the wall once the door was closed.

You woke up early to a beam of light shining into your eyes and the feeling of warm skin underneath your face, slowly moving up and down. Once you came to your senses, you realised you must’ve been too distracted the night before to close the curtains in your bedroom, to which you giggled softly. Your brief and minor movement apparently caused Ona to wake up as well, as you heard a soft groan beneath you. “Good morning, guapa.” You said, looking up at her as her eyes slowly opened up, frowning at the light. “Bon dia,” she replied, smiling, “let me make us some breakfast.” “But we're at my place, I should make breakfast.” You replied. “Please, I’ll figure it out. After all, I have a feeling I might become a regular here.” She smirked, as she got up from your bed to quickly put on some clothes, leaving no room for you to argue.

Whilst you remained in your bed, you could hear Ona rummaging through your cabinets, expertly preparing something that would undoubtedly turn out delicious, whilst speaking to someone on the phone. At first you mostly heard laughter, but it soon became more quiet and Ona suddenly sounded rather anxious and frustrated. You swiftly put on your sweatpants and a jumper and you went downstairs to see what was going on. “Sí, lo sé, pero-” She stopped talking when she noticed you walking into the kitchen. “Tengo que ir, chao.” She said to the person at the other end of the line before hanging up. “That sounded serious, what was it about?” You asked carefully. “Nothing, it was just one of my teammates. Don’t worry about it.” She said, deliberately keeping her eyes on the breakfast she was making. “Ona, that just makes me more worried. You can tell me what’s going on, you know.” You grabbed her cheek, moving her face so she had to look at you. “Okay.” She started as she grabbed your wrist, nervously dragging you towards the couch to sit you both down.

“Here’s the thing. She mentioned something to me, and now I am worried about us. My schedule is very busy, and I have very few weekends off. Not to mention being away a lot for national camps and stuff. It is why I dated a teammate for so long, it’s why so many of us do. It’s not easy to have a girlfriend who is a footballer, and I don’t know if I can give you what you need, or better, what you deserve.” She rambled anxiously. “Girlfriend?” Was all you could answer, widening your eyes in expectation. “Y/N. You’re focussing on the wrong thing.” Ona grumbled. “You want me to be your girlfriend?” You asked with a small smile on your face, still not wanting to let her slip of the tongue go. “Well yes, but-” “Okay, my turn.” You interrupted. “I know what I am getting myself into. I know you’re busy, I know football is the most important thing to you right now and I would never ask you to change that. But I want this Ona. I want to be a part of your life, even if I am just a small part. I want to try. Please let me try?” You asked, looking at her with your very best puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, okay.” She smiled. “And you won’t just be a small part, I promise.” She added, to which you both smiled softly.

“Soooo,” You started. “girlfriend, huh?” You giggled. “Well I wasn’t planning on asking you this way, or this soon, but I guess there is no way out of it now.” She chuckled. “Y/N,” she started, grabbing both of your hands, facing you and directly looking into your eyes, “will you be my girlfriend?” The smiles on both your faces grew wider by the second. “Yes, of course I will Ona.” You said as you leaned in for a soft but passionate kiss, before pulling her in for a tight hug. You both chuckled. “So much for taking things slow.”

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #muwfc x reader #espwnt x reader

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floralembarrassment · 1 year

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hi! I love your writing 💕

can I request a scene of jegulus reunion during the war, in a scenario where they never broke up just separated to keep each other safe and now regulus started to work on destroying the horcruxes and realized he will need help so he comes to james?

anyway hope you're having a great day 💕

Hello! Thank you so much! I know you asked for this a while ago, and I have been mulling it over it my head ever since. But this one I do actually like a lot and I hope you do too! with love

Tell me it's True (1/1) (jegulus)

One minute James was fighting side by side with Sirius. The next minute he and Sirius were being pulled through time and space, stopping briefly at Remus and Sirius' flat, and then James was the only one being sucked through again and landing harshly on quiet shoreline.

He panted as he lay on his back in the sand. When he got his bearings, he gripped his wand right in his hand waiting for the thing that stole him off the frontlines to reveal themselves and their reason for taking him. But as he looked up at the night sky, realized he could see Regulus. And not the star but the his heart.

That's when he panicked. "Who are you! What do you want?" James cried hauling himself up, and pointing his wand at man in front of him.

"James," Regulus said. "It's me."

James wanted it to be true but he knew there was no way it could be. The war wasn't over, so there's no way Regulus would be coming to find him now. Desperate though he whispered, "prove it."

Regulus muttered a set of revealing spells, all coming up empty. He removed his overcloak and pulled up the side of his shirt, showing James the scar that ran all down his side, the one that James helped heal shortly after his father had cast the curse that did it. James lowered his wand.

He dropped his wand, fell to his knees, looking James in the eyes and whispered back, "mon amour, I've come to find out and brought you to this place like we planned all those months ago. And on a stone that has since sunk to the bottom of the black lake is a piece of you and piece of me, that holds a secret only we know."

James rushed to him. It recognized the beach where they were, recognized the words they promised to repeat, recognized the secret that bound them together, a stone cast with each of their blood tossed into waters of the first and last place they met.

And as James crashed into Regulus he held him so tightly and let himself be held with equal force.

Without pulling away, James spoke into Regulus' ear: "what are you doing here? The war is not over?" James asked.

"But it will be," Regulus whispered back.

This made James pull back. "What, do you mean?" James asked searching Regulus' face, his eyes, his hands flying up to cup the face of the man he ached for every night.

"Horcruxes, James. He made horcruxes. Six or seven of them... I'm not sure. But I've destroyed one. And I found you because I need your help to find the rest." Regulus explained staring into the amber eyes that shone in the moonlight.

"You're kidding," James replied. Regulus just shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Regulus explained.

"Sorry? What for?" James said, shock clear in his voice.

"The horcruxes they are terribly hidden, and torturous to get at. I don't want to bring you into this but I can't.... I can't do this alone." Regulus rushed out.

"No Regulus," James said looking at Regulus with a smile forming on his face. Regulus returned the look but with a quizzical expression.

"You are telling me you are coming back? You are coming back to me and you aren't going to leave again?" James said. Pleading for Regulus to confirm, desperate to know he hasn't misunderstood.

And Regulus kissed him. Then he nodded his head.

"Yes James I'm here to stay. Always have been and I'll continue to be, yours."

#did i know i had an asks box? no #ahhhhh the reunion #okay but like what if it was a whole fox #don't look at me like that #I write shorts...#jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #fanfic #lgbtq+#marauders #james x regulus #regulus black #james potter #marauders era #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #marauders fandom

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bridgetotheskyyy · 9 months

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chapter two.

masterlist

Chapter summary: Gaara gives you a tour of Suna and Temari takes you shopping with ulterior motives . . .

Chapter warnings: hints of parental abuse, mentions of death and violence, threats

Word count: 12.9k

A/N: I truly hope this chapter exceeded your expectations. But, if not, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Next chapter (which I will try and drop mid-September, think September 15th. I'll let y'all know if there are any delays; I'm in the process of moving from the shithole I live in to somewhere hopefully nice, so fingers crossed!) we get our anime beach episode! Embrace yourselves!

Read on ao3 here

Your empty stare fixed on the equally empty stage. Shinobi dispersed into the crowd to initiate calm.

To no avail.

“It’s an attack!”

“Oh, our poor Lord Kazekage …”

“What’s happening?”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off the stage, now serving as your judge, jury, and executioner. If Gaara didn’t return, who else would be blamed? Who could blame them for blaming you? You had been the last to touch him.

In your periphery, Chuuyou inched toward you. An apex predator ready to defend his cub. He would shed blood here tonight if it came to that.

You swallowed a scream.

Had your father not trusted you after all and taken matters into his own hands? Did he have your innocuous gift swapped with something more deadly? The minutes ticked on. Oasis ninja clotted around you.

Your heart drummed in your ears as Baki reappeared. Silence fell, attention rapt as he took the microphone.

“Everything is all right!” he announced. “Lord Kazekage is not normally fond of alcohol and accidentally had the strongest liquor available tonight! He is completely fine.”

An universal sigh of relief; murmurs sounded, coated in a new tone as Baki’s words sank in.

“Our Kazekage is so responsible!”

“Not like his brother … you see how he was chugging those glasses earlier?”

“Oh, of course, yes …”

Your ninja relaxed as well, affording you space to breathe.

Tension wiped the strength in your legs; you collapsed into your seat. You were in the clear.

And … and Gaara was all right.

… Why did you care about that?

Baki abandoned the stage and joined the soothed crowd. You raced to compose yourself as he came toward you, the static of your nerves revving up in anticipation of what he would say.

“Are you all right —?”

“Yes,” You said with too much haste. You ironed out the fabric of your kimono to occupy your hands. “Is … is Gaara all right? Really?”

“He is.”

“… May I see him?”

You hung your head. You feared Baki’s face, the possibility of finding suspicion there, but when you lifted your gaze, his uncharacteristic smile had returned.

“Of course,” he said.

“So irresponsible!”

They had moved Gaara to the Suna Hospital for emergency analysis. Baki led you to his room. Gaara was bedridden, a wet towel on his head. Medical ninja fretted over him, plumping pillows and measuring his temperature, but they dispersed when they saw you coming. Temari was haranguing Kankuro in the corner.

“Gaara.” You came to the foot of his bed. “Are you all right?”

He opened a charcoal-ringed eye. “Yes. I apologize; I wasn’t thinking.”

“Lord Kazekage just needs some water and he’ll be right as rain,” came the soothing voice of a masked nurse.

Baki squeezed the space between his eyes; Temari was still berating Kankuro.

“I knew we should’ve been more careful!” she yelled. “You didn’t even try to help —!”

She beat him over the head with her fan.

“Ow! Temari —! Ah!”

“That’s enough, Temari.” Gaara raised from bed. He removed his towel and looped it over his wrist. “I would like to return to the party.”

Temari paused. “But … but Gaara …”

“There’s still one more thing that needs to be done,” he said, “and I must ensure it happens.”

“Yeah, Temari,” Kankuro said, rubbing his head. “Stop embarrassing him in front of his future wife —“

He recoiled as Temari growled at him.

She relaxed. “Well, If you’re feeling well enough …”

“I am.” Gaara was on his feet, approaching the door. He stopped to nod at the nurses. “Thank you for your care.”

The nurses had hearts in their eyes. “Ye — yes, of course, Lord Kazekage!”

The four of you returned to the halls of the party. The tension had left the party as it had your body. Warm applause greeted Gaara upon his reappearance. Cordial conversations flowed like unblocked rivers . The sky darkened enough to invite the blinking of stars.

Gaara glanced over his shoulder to Baki. “It’s time.”

Baki nodded and hurried away.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Gaara turned to you. “I was meant to present a gift to you as well.”

What? You blinked. “Oh …”

“I didn’t know what you would want,” Gaara went on. “And … I’ve been told I can give out rather strange gifts. I didn’t want to give you anything useless. I’ve prepared something nice instead.”

He led you to a tower, and the two of you climbed stairs to the top. At the top, a winged roof hooded over the reigning stars.

Gaara grasped the railing. “Come …”

You obeyed and stood beside him, waiting.

Pop. A whistle. A white tip shot into the air. You tipped your neck skyward — an explosion of lights and color.

Fireworks …!

More scurried into the air to become sparkles of green, orange, red, and purple. The light of fireworks descended to illuminate the space between the two of you.

“Gaara …” You stared in awe as fireworks mingled with the stars before tumbling into the desert.

You were speechless. Had anyone ever done something so nice for you? No one. Not even Father. Especially not Father.

You grazed the necklace — that evil necklace — still swung around your neck, along with your mission culminating in its use. You lowered your gaze as crimson light cast on your skin.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned to Gaara. His small smile tipped the edges of his mouth. Your silence tempered it.

“Is this …all right?” he asked tentatively. “Do you like them?”

Green replaced crimson, but you were immersed in the turquoise of Gaara’s eyes.

Your mission became white noise as you smiled to assure him. “I … I love it … Thank you.”

Gaara nodded. “I’m glad. I … hoped you would.”

When he seemed content enough, you resumed marveling at the show, where fireworks of pure white blazed into the sky to rival the dazzle of stars.

Dear Father,

I’m all settled in now. They’ve made things very comfortable for me. Your daughter is well. I want you to know that. They threw a party to honor my arrival — isn’t that nice? It’s been two days since — it went well. I don’t think anyone suspects anything. I haven’t seen much of the Kazekage, though; he’s been so busy since the party.

I have a question to ask.

You never shared the full details of Hideo’s death with me. I suppose you thought I was simply too young when it happened and didn’t wish to traumatize me, but I need to know. Are you sure the Kazekage was responsible for it? I’m only asking because he is not what I expected. He is very kind to me and to his siblings. They seem to love him immensely.

If you’re not sure, is it really necessary to go through with this plan? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to let things carry on as they are? Wouldn’t it be better for both of our villages if we let this marriage come to pass?

Despite the warm welcomes, I miss home, and I miss you.

Much love, (Y/n)

Baki had taken it upon himself to become your official caretaker, escorting you wherever and whenever you wanted to go. He led you to the Kazekage’s office. You looked forward to seeing Gaara, though you knew you shouldn’t.

Baki opened the door for you. You grinned; the cactus you had given Gaara now sat on his desk. One among many plants decorating the room. They livened up the place while circular windows ventilated the small space, granting all a shorthanded view of the village underneath. Towering buildings stood nearby. The windstorm had subsided, only a slight breeze trembling the lines of utility poles.

Temari stood beside the Kazekage’s desk, looking unimpressed. At the sight of you, she managed a smile.

“Good morning, (Y/n). Hope you slept well.”

“I slept great, actually!” You said. “Gaara’s put his gift on his table, I see.”

The desk chair swiveled to reveal Kankuro flinging his hands out.

“Surprise!”

You blinked, confused.

Silence.

“What’s happened?” You asked.

“Nothing good, I promise,” Temari deadpanned.

Kankuro’s enthusiasm deflated with a sigh. “There’s been a new arrangement.”

“Kankuro’s decided to step in and substitute as Kazekage for a few days,” Baki said, “so you and Lord Kazekage can get to know each other.”

“That’s a great idea!” You said.

Free time with Gaara? One thought collided with another: would this give you time to accomplish your mission? Anxiety coupled with dread became acutely aware of your necklace sitting against your chest.

You wanted word from your father first before you proceeded. And still … It was much too soon to try to make a move.

“Um, where is Gaara?” His name sat sacred on your tongue, blasphemous to utter aloud.

“He’s in a meeting right now,” Baki said as the door opened and a servant entered, “as he won’t be taking part in them for a while.”

“What —“

“Here are the papers for today — uh, Lord Kazekage.” The servant dropped a stack of paperwork on the desk, now belonging to Kankuro.

He smirked. “Heh, thanks, but I’ll need my morning coffee as well. How am I supposed to work without my coffee?”

The servant gulped. “Yes, right away!” He scurried out the door.

Kankuro leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I could get used to this.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Temari huffed. “It’s only temporary.”

You chuckled. You had grown to like the Sand siblings tremendously. Being sequestered in the sand palace with them was not as miserable as you had imagined; the stories, the bickering, the atmosphere of a home lived in. It was like having a sibling of your��own again …

You returned to your inquiry. “What is the council concerned with?”

“Oh.” Baki cleared his throat. “It’s concerning … the festivities a few days ago. Gaara’s incident.”

“Oh.” Bad news. What had caused Gaara to drink so much in the first place, you wondered? Was it you? Had you distracted him? Would the council blame you for what happened, though Gaara hadn’t?

Kankuro winked. “Afterward, he’ll be giving you a tour of the village.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“There’s just one thing.” Temari faced Baki. “Why weren’t you chosen to serve as a substitute for Gaara?”

“Gaara recommended Kankuro personally,” Baki explained. “He trusts Kankuro — he’s also very good with people, should the need for such a skill arise.”

“What?” Temari placed her hands on her hips. “And I’m not?”

“You are marrying a Leaf shinobi in a matter of months,” Baki replied. “We believed that would cause some … issues.”

Temari’s cheeks reddened. She wilted into herself. “Oh, right, well …

“In the meantime,” Baki turned to you, “I will be chaperoning you and Gaara during your tour.”

“I see,” you said.

Kankuro scoffed. “Like my little brother needs a chaperon.” He raised his head proudly. “My gentlemanly little bro.”

“You’re completely right, though …” Temari giggled into her hand. “You probably need one more than he does.”

“Maybe so … Hey!”

More time passed, during which Kankuro made more demands, sending servants out as quickly as they came in.

You giggled into your sleeve as an anger mark sprouted on Temari’s forehead, growing ever larger by the second.

“What’s next, Kankuro?” Temari gritted her teeth. “Free ice cream?”

“You read my mind!” Kankuro shot a finger into the air. “For everyone! And the Suna library’ll have an Icha section! We’ll keep Jiraiya-sensei’s memory alive by —“

Temari hit him over the head, and Kankuro fell over the desk.

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?”

Your perked, interest piqued. “Hm? Did you say the Icha Icha series?”

Their heads turned to you in mortified silence.

“How …” Baki looked like he had seen a ghost. “How do you know about those books, Lady (Y/n)?”

“Oh, I love them! All the ladies read them in court! And you know the author? How amazing —!“

“You’re allowed to read them?” Temari said.

You tilted your head, confused. “Of course. My father recommended it … why are you all looking at me like that?”

They all stared at you, wide-eyed and in horror.

“Did I … say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

A fresh voice. Gaara entered, wearing a faint smile.

“And yes,” he said. “We did.”

“Gaara,” You grinned. “Long time no see.”

You were genuinely happy to see him and, maybe, it was all right to be — for the time being. Until your father returned your letter, you would let yourself be.

“Yes. I’m sorry I was away for so long.”

Hope laced your fingers together. “Are you saying you’ve read the books, too?”

Temari gawked with horror. Baki sighed over Kankuro’s snicker.

“Yes.” Gaara tilted his head, considering. “But I didn’t understand them. Perhaps you can —“

Baki cleared his throat unusually loudly. “Perhaps we should get a move on. You both have a big day ahead of you.”

“Right,” Gaara said. “I meant to tell you about what I had planned today. If that appeals to you.”

“Of course it does!” You strode to him. “I’m looking forward to it!”

“Have fun, you two!” Kankuro waved you off beside a facepalming Temari as Gaara led you, like a gentleman, out the door.

Sunagakure made you eat your words.

The village sat in its giant crater, nestled away from wandering eyes, a maze of stucco and rough sand. The buildings shouldered the responsibility of weathering the sandstorms. The orderly streets and marketplaces left you feeling guilty about the footprints you left underfoot. Domed buildings stood squat and quaint. Come nightfall, the gift box windows would cast yellow gazes on you in the dark.

“It’s beautiful …” You said.

“You’re a long way from home, so this must be strange for you,” Gaara said.

In truth, you had always been under your father’s thumb. This mission had taken you out from under it and now you could breathe. No one stood analyzing your every move, ready to correct or chastise or worse.

“It’s …” You trailed as the three of you turned a corner. “Different, to say the least.”

“I apologize for being away,” Gaara said. “I hope you’ve been able to settle in without any problems.”

His courtesy flattered you. “Thank you, but I was fine, really!” You debated sharing your next point. “I even sent a letter to my father telling him I arrived safely.”

“Hello, Lord Kazekage!”

You, Gaara, and Baki stopped to entertain the woman approaching, waving and smiling.

“Oh, hello, Yen,” Gaara said. “It’s been a while. Is the baby all right?”

Your head snapped to him. Yen. He knows her name? Your mouth hung agape; your father would never know the name of a villager, let alone the servants conditioned to scrub his palace.

“Yes, she just started teething!” the woman — Yen — giggled. She noticed you. “Oh, and who is this?”

Another girl crept toward you. “That’s Lord Kazekage and Lady (Y/n)!” she squealed.

Villagers crowded the three of you; déjà vu of the party nights before started you chuckling to yourself.

“Oh!” Yen said. “Your fiancée! A pleasure to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s all mine, surely …” You mumbled.

“Lord Kazekage,” another girl whined. “You said you’d come to my rehearsal!”

“No way! He said he’s coming to our picnic!”

“I’ve got him Sunday —“

“No, I do!”

“Please, please, everyone.” Gaara raised placating hands, albeit with a smile. “I will honor all of my agreements, I swear it!”

“You’re so pretty,” one girl cooed to you.

“What’s the Oasis village like?” asked a man.

Baki hung over your shoulder. “I’m going to have to get the two of you out of here,” he whispered. “I’ll find a quieter street for the two of you to walk.”

You nodded, though you had no idea how he would manage this, what with the villagers ready to carry your fiancée away like some sort of handsome singer. “Understood.”

“What are you doing —?”

Temari squealed, shooting up from the side of your bed.

“Oh.” She relaxed as Kankuro entered. “You scared the shit out of me. Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“I did knock.” Kankuro crossed his arms. “Twice.”

“Well, don’t!” she said before ignoring him to flip pillows and pop her head through the bed curtains.

Kankuro’s eyebrow twitched. “Temari. What are you doing?”

“Looking for clues.”

“Wha—?” Kankuro gawked. “Clues?”

“Yes, Kankuro. Clues. Hints, evidence — anything that could indicate a plot.” Temari rummaged through drawers. “I just know something’s up.”

“You think (Y/n)’d have something where we could easily find it?” Kankuro asked rhetorically. “You think she has some assassination diary laying around that says ‘April 5th. The plan to kill Gaara’s going well. The onigiri was great last night, too’?”

Temari paused. “A diary … I didn’t think of that.” She closed the drawer in favor of the bed. “Kankuro, help me flip this mattress over —“

“Temari,” Kankuro stepped forward, resigned to the fact he had been talking to himself to take Temari’s hand. “Stop. This is insane.”

She drew her hand away. “You know that man has it in for Gaara!”

“No, Temari, I don’t know that,” Kankuro said, blocking her access to your bed. “Stop shoving — ngh! — You’ve gotta let the past be the past —“

“Kankuro, move —“

“As sub Kazekage, I order you to stop!” Kankuro said.

Temari paused, surprised.

“That’s right.” Kankuro grinned, victorious. “You know you have to do as I say.”

Temari sighed. “Fine.” She thrust a finger in his face. “But this. Isn’t. Over.”

She stalked from the room. Kankuro watched her go.

“Yeah, I know it’s not,” Kankuro said.

Not fooling anyone, Temari; I know what this is really about …

Baki did the impossible and secured a vacant street where the two of you could traverse unmolested. But the villagers still took it upon themselves to wave at Gaara from their windows before retreating behind curtains. Baki fell behind to give you some alone time and, though you couldn’t see him, you knew Chuuyou was nearby, foreseeing everything.

“They love you,” You said as he waved back. “They absolutely love you.”

Color blossomed on Gaara’s face. “It’s quite a change … from when I was a child.”

“Did they all know you, then?”

Gaara lowered his hand. “Yes … albeit for a very different reason. I was a very lonely child. The Fourth Kazekage kept me … away from others.”

“I understand.” You chuckled. “I think being the child of a village head always leaves so much to be desired. My father wouldn’t let me have any friends growing up; he always feared plots against our family.”

Gaara lowered his gaze. He said nothing as the two of you came to a bridge. And for a second, you began to think you had misjudged his meaning when he continued —

“I was a very different person then, like I told you before,” Gaara said. “I had my uncle, Yashamaru, but I was feared by everyone else.”

You weren’t stupid. Gaara of the Sand Waterfall. The Beast of Suna. He must be alluding his savage reputation. Oasis shinobi spoke of the terrors of facing him if they were blessed enough to return to tell the tale. When the Fourth Kazekage sent Gaara out on missions to ravage his opponents, opposing villages, yours along with many others.

But still, wouldn’t he have been a little boy then? How could he have been so feared, even then? You were tempted to ask for more, but, fearful of overstepping your bounds, kept your mouth closed.

“There is a reason they treat me this way; I’ve worked hard to redeem myself in their eyes,” Gaara said.

You came to rest beside the railing of the bridge, head tilted in interest. “What changed?”

A long beat before Gaara spoke again.

“I met someone who showed me a different way of living. That … I could be precious to others.” Gaara squeezed the rail as if to ground himself, though you pretended not to notice. “After that, I wanted nothing more than to make the people of this village love me.”

His words set in as you studied his face. This was a man who took it upon himself to know the name of his villagers, who was gentle, kind …

Respect bloomed in your chest. You … you admired him.

But how could you when …

“Lord Kazekage!”

A little boy ran up the bridge, stopping at the hill of it. He leaned on his knees to catch his breath.

Gaara stood upright, commanding. Kazekage. “What is it?”

The boy perked. Something crumpled in his little fist. Something yellow …

He offered it to Gaara. A flower.

“It’s for you!” he said. “My friends told me you were around the village, so I picked it myself!”

Gaara took the flower and inspected it thoughtfully, as did you; a few of the petals lay bent and crinkled from the boy’s well-intentioned hassling, but the creases increased the flower’s beauty. Gaara looked down and smiled.

“Flowers are rare in this village,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.”

The boy’s laugh was music as you approached Gaara.

“Whatever you did to make them love you, I think it worked,” You whispered over his shoulder with a wink.

Color had returned to Gaara’s cheeks. He faced the boy. “Is it all right if I place it in her hair? I think it would look nice on a woman.”

“Sure thing!” the boy said.

You froze, stunned as Gaara fixed it in your hair.

“You look beautiful, Lady (Y/n)!” the boy said. He scratched his head sheepishly. “I wanted to find one for you, too, but I couldn’t, hehe …”

“I’m sure she appreciates it,” Gaara said.

You touched your hand to the flower, gingerly feeling its soft petals against your hair.

Another voice, feminine, called a name.

“That’s my mom,” the boy said. “Bye, Lord Kazekage!”

The boy waved at the two of you as you said your goodbyes. Gaara turned to you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

The grumble of your stomach gave away your ladylike position. “Hehe. Starving.”

“I know just the place.”

Kankuro tossed a page in his book as Temari opened the door with her back, carrying a new stack of papers.

He looked up — and groaned, sinking into the chair. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! More papers? Ugh, my first day and I’m already exhausted …”

Temari steadied the stack on the desk. “You should read more, anyway … Wait.” She went bug-eyed. “Are you actually reading?”

“Yeah,” Kankuro sighed, returning to his book.

“It’s a miracle!” Temari cried. She nudged closer to sneak a peek at the pages. “What’s the book?”

“I sent for some books about the Oasis village,” Kankuro said. “I figured it’d be a good idea; maybe it’d help us bridge the gap between our villages if we knew more about each other. But …” Kankuro closed the book. “They’re so secretive. They’ve clearly gone to great lengths to hide the secrets of their oasis. Not that I blame them. But there’s nothing on it, really. Just historiographies of the village and some legends. Do you know any?”

“Uh, no?” Temari crossed her legs and leaned against Kankuro’s arm. “Just that they think the oasis was graced by some water spirit a hundred years ago.”

“That’s not all.” Kankuro flipped to the pages at the back of the book to inspect its index. “Apparently, that water spirit blessed the village with an oasis after he defeated some beast who’d gone rogue.”

“Charming,” Temari deadpanned. “I was never much for fairy tales, though. What are you getting at?”

“The oasis is said to have special powers,” Kankuro said.

“I thought you couldn’t find anything concrete?”

“If you read between the lines, that’s really what they’re getting at.” Kankuro leaned back after having found nothing substantial in the index. “What if (Y/n) knows about it? Who knows what we might gain access to?”

Temari snorted. “Now you sound like you’re on the council.”

Kankuro stiffened. “Not what I meant. I don’t want to play their game; I’m not looking to use her or anything. Just … who knows? Maybe it has healing abilities or something? Maybe it can bring back the dead? The possibilities are endless. Aren’t you the slightest bit curious?”

“Sure.” Temari looked out one of the windows. “But, Kankuro, even if it’s real and —“ She cut him with a pointed stare. “— there isn’t some plot we’re unaware of. We’re not just enemies to (Y/n)’s village — we’d considered blasphemous to them. I don’t know how friendly they’d be to us poking around.”

“I don’t know …” Kankuro closed the book but eyed it still, interest lingering. “I’m going to see if I can find anything else, though.”

“Understood,” Temari said. “But let’s tackle the paperwork first. Promise?”

Kankuro’s eyes roved over the stack. He sighed. He abandoned his book for the first sheet in the stack. “Promise.”

The restaurant was placed in a canyon on the outskirts of Sunagakure. The place held intimacy, as it was sparsely occupied with a few lone couples. You could hear their excited murmurings from afar as the two of you ordered food. The icing on the cake was poor Baki, trying to pass off as a simple bystander while so obviously a guard meant to protect Gaara. The man looked so out of place, shuffling his feet on the sidelines, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Maybe you should tell him to go back to the office,” You whispered to Gaara.

“He … insisted,” Gaara said.

Baki awkwardly crossed his arms and looked down the path of the canyon, playing as cool as he could.

“Kankuro told me about this place,” Gaara said, ostensibly to get your attention away from his uncomfortable former sensei. “He took a date here once.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Gaara flattened a napkin. “Only, I don’t think it ended well … he said something about the girl pouring hot soup all over him.”

“Popular with the ladies, I see.” You giggled into your hand.

“This is a nostalgic place for our family, Gaara said. “My father took my mother here to propose. My uncle, Yashamaru, recommended it.”

You smiled. “You mention him often.”

“He taught me a great deal about love.”

You leaned toward him. “He must be so nice.”

Gaara grew quiet.

“… he was.”

Your shoulders fell. “Oh. I see. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Gaara picked up his glass to immediately put it down — perhaps wary of its contents. “He taught me love is … the heart’s desire to serve someone closest to you.”

A FAMILY of orators, then.

“The heart’s desire …” You ruminated. “That’s beautiful.”

“So when Kankuro showed me this place …” Gaara looked up at the canyon’s ledge; the lights strewn from one side to the other, while umbrella roofs shielded them from the heat. A blade of light whet the side of Gaara’s face. “And told me about how Yashamaru had my father bring my mother here, I couldn’t help but think of his words again.”

“I look forward to learning more about your village and your family,” You said, transfixed. “The other things I know have been enforced by the rivalry between our villages.” Something occurred to you. “I hope I didn’t get you into too much trouble.”

Gaara frowned, clearly in need of clarification.

“With the council, I mean,” You elaborated. “I know you had to meet with them today.”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” Gaara said.

A smile tugged your lips. Was he bragging?

“They feared the incident could make the Sand look foolish,” Gaara continued, and when you tensed with memory, he added, “but I was quick to remind them the party seemed much livelier after what happened. It would have been rude if I had chosen not to engage in the festivities.”

You fiddled with your glass. The idea of playing even a minor role in the reproachment Gaara received needled you with guilt.

“I agreed there wouldn’t be a repeat incident,” Gaara said. “They were also concerned about what could happen if your father heard. Lady Ikanago said he could take it as an insult.”

The mention of Father cast an extra shadow over the two of you, doubling with the umbrellas above your heads. “What did you say?”

“I told them this is only a problem because the Sand has built up a reputation for terrorizing smaller territories around it,” Gaara replied. He cast his gaze down. “I do not deny my part in that terrorization. It is why I keep Joseki on the council.”

Joseki. Memories of the man flooded your mind.

“He doesn’t like you at all.” You said it as though it were not obvious, intrigued by what Gaara’s reply would be.

“No, he doesn’t.” Gaara’s gaze remained on the table. “I do not want to forget about my previous sins, nor the pain I’ve caused. Joseki’s disapproval serves as a frequent reminder of both.”

You tilted your head, stupefied. He kept a man on his council who despised him; was he so dedicated to making amends?

Gaara lifted his gaze at last. “Kankuro has questioned my methods, but this is what I’m comfortable doing.”

“Did they — did they say anything else?”

“There was talk of securing important bloodlines — yours,” Gaara said. “To ensure the Sand is strengthened.” Gaara paused; he suddenly seemed so tired, like an article of clothing excessively worn. “I have to admit: With each passing year, I become more disgusted with the council and their asinine power plays … For years, we have accused Konoha of terrorizing smaller villages, involving them in bigger wars, meanwhile we do the same in secret.”

“Such is politics,” You quipped.

Gaara was not swayed by your show of cynicism. “Despite what you told me before, about you coming here willingly …” He grimaced. “I’m sorry you have been involved in all of this.”

You were silent, too stunned to reply. When all had been said and done, no one had asked you about how you felt to be shipped off to another village. You did what was expected of you. Why did he, of all people, care so much for your well-being?

He is your fiancée, is he not?

Gaara tried for a reassuring smile. “Enough about this. Tell me about your village, your family.”

Chills ran over your skin despite the heat of the day. You? What could you say? What could you safely share that wouldn’t incriminate you? You considered speaking about Hideo, but would you be able to keep your cool? And nevermind your mission — you were a sheltered daughter of a village head. You had no stories, nothing worth sharing.

You gripped the side of your glass, hyper-aware of Gaara’s expectant stare. “I’m afraid I can only tell you stories about other people I’ve known. Your love for your uncle has reminded me a bit of my love for my maid, Hahaoya.”

“Your maid?” Gaara parroted.

“I don’t mean it like that,” You implored. “She was like a mother to me. She was all I had after my mother had died. After we buried my mother, I had nightmare after nightmare. Her death destroyed my father. He said he had no sympathy for me … He said I should get used to having nightmares, to living without her. He would have to. So would I.” You pinched the tablecloth. “But Hahaoya was always there; she would sneak into my bedroom once everyone else had fallen asleep to sing me songs and tell me stories. She was my everything.”

Gaara stared. “… Was?”

Misery creased your face; you did nothing to conceal it. “Was. One day, she was serving me soup, and I got so sick off of it. It was a few weeks after my mother had died and I wasn’t eating regularly, so I’m sure I was only having trouble digesting it. But my father threw a fit, ranting and raving about how Hahaoya had sided with ‘the’ enemy and had tried to kill me. He had her banished from our village and when I confronted him about it, he said she’s lucky he didn’t have her killed.”

Your trained eyes on the table, now too afraid to look up at Gaara. You had said too much; you were sure, but you hadn’t been able to help it. Reliving the memory, you remembered how upset you were with your father when it happened. Hahaoya, your only source of peace in those times … Your brother had been there, too, but as a fully fledged ninja with missions stacked atop each other, not as much as he may have wanted.

Then he died, and you were left truly alone with your crazy father …

Gaara’s hand squeezing yours bore you away from your thoughts. You looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Gaara’s face brightened. “Perhaps, when we’re married, we can find her for you.”

You froze. “Rea — Really?”

“Yes.” Gaara cupped your hand with two hands now. “I can dispatch a team to go looking for her.”

Your lips parted in awe. “Gaara …”

Gaara studied you, and for a second it looked like he would inquire further into your past —

“Here you are!”

A waiter came bearing plates.

You withdrew from Gaara’s touch as the waiter presented dishes.

“Tell me if you need anything else, all right?”

“Okay …” You replied weakly.

The waiter left you two to eat.

“Once you’re full, there’s something else I’d like to share with you,” Gaara said.

You gave him an are you kidding expression. “No more fireworks, Gaara.”

“No.” Gaara leaned from the shade and sunlight brightened his eyes. “Something I’ve been hoping to share with you since you came. Something very precious to me.”

“Kankuro — oh, for gods’ sake — wake UP!”

Kankuro shot from the desk, a sheet stuck to his face.

“Jeez!” Temari cried. “Gaara never fell asleep at his work!”

“Doubt it.” Kankuro plucked the paper from his cheek, now smeared in purple paint. “’Tis the kind of work that could even put an insomniac to sleep. I — wait, whose drool is this … Oh, it’s mine —“

“I’ve had just enough of your lack of concern. You have no sense of urgency for anything!” Temari said. “Show some initiative for once, would you?”

“Fine!” Kankuro snapped. “From now on, it’s your job to get close to (Y/n) and see if she can tell us anything about the oasis. Happy? How’s that for initiative?”

Temari blinked. “That’s … that’s a brilliant idea!”

“Happy to hear it.” Kankuro plopped into his seat.

“In fact …” Temari continued, thumbing her chin. “I know just the thing! A girl’s day out! She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll have it all planned out. I’ll have us go …”

Kankuro zoned out, happy to know Temari was now distracted enough leaving the office, allowing him to go back to sleep.

Gaara’s greenhouse burst with green, plants sprouting from every corner and orifice. A mahogany desk and chair sat in one aisle where you assumed he did his work cultivating. Butterflies fluttered past while ladybugs crawled across the face of leaves. You giggled as butterflies neared, curious about the flower placed in your hair.

“It’s beautiful, Gaara!” You cried out.

“Thank you,” he said from behind you. “We have another greenhouse where we grow plants to counteract poisons and other undesirable things,”

You admired a succulent on his table to deter your nerves. “Really?”

“Yes,” Gaara said. “I prefer only to grow harmless things here.”

You heard him take a step and chose to change the subject. “Where’s the cactus I gave you? Oh, I remember, in the office!”

Gaara came to your side. “I enjoyed it so much I wanted it somewhere I would be sure to admire it every day.”

Baki swatted a butterfly away. “Cacti have been Lord Kazekage’s main hobbyhorse for a while now.”

You inspected the cactus he had propitiated. Verdant green cacti complimented the desk, lined up perfectly. “You’re so good with them. I can’t grow anything!”

“I’m only a beginner,” Gaara said. “I’ve read books on different plants from around the world. I’m not even aware of all the cacti yet …”

You chuckled. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“One day, I’d like to know about every cactus,” Gaara said earnestly.

An image of a wizened Gaara, surrounded by a museum of cacti, flared in your mind. You giggled.

“I don’t know much about them,” You said, grazing the petal of a succulent, “but maybe there are specimens which grow back home I can have sent to you!”

Gaara’s eyes brightened. “You would do that?”

“Why not!” You smiled at him. “Why cactus, though? Is it because they’re easy to find in the desert?”

Gaara’s eyes followed the fingers you had ghosting the succulent petals. “I thought it a nice change. To grow and allow things to prosper, as opposed to destroy, was humbling for me. It is very soothing. Though not much grows in the desert … I came to love planting and watering things.”

“Apologies to the earth,” You remarked.

Gaara considered you. “Apologies to the … earth. I like that.”

Baki caught your eye; he was considering you as if you had materialized anew.

“It’s a beautiful hobby you have,” You said. And adding, due to your respect for him, “Lord Kazekage.”

He blushed, shied into a collection of leaves.

He’s so cute — he really is handsome.

A half an hour passed as Gaara showed you more of his plants — prickly pear (turned out this was the class of cacti you had gifted him), golden barrels, barbary figs, the darling peyotes reminding you of dumplings. He set you in his working chair and let you review the spreadsheets he kept to remember which plants needed watering and when (cacti were not desperate for water, so the schedules were spaced out through a period of days and weeks) as well as the books he read for research.

“(Y/n) …?” Gaara’s voice was tentative behind you as you inspected an index.

You lowered the book. You knew what he would ask. “Yes?”

“You mentioned a brother,” he said cautiously. “A brother who died.”

You smiled in defeat. Did you think you could avoid the topic forever? How stupid.

“If you don’t want to talk —“

“No.” You turned to Gaara. “It’s okay. I can talk about it …”

Concern creased Gaara’s face, looking ready to accommodate your comfort. In your periphery, Baki’s face echoed the sentiment.

You toyed with the corner of a page. “He was older than me, and a great shinobi …” Hideo’s smile came to life in your mind’s eye, behind your eyes as you closed them. “My father’s favorite, obviously. But that was all right; Hideo always said I was his favorite.”

You fought to maintain your composure; Gaara would come to your side if you curled over in pain.

“There was a mission — it was meant to be incredibly dangerous. I don’t know the details. I was never told …” Your hand abandoned the page to fold in your lap with the other. “Even my father wasn’t sure if he should go, but eventually let him. Hideo insisted. He wasn’t afraid — he wasn’t afraid of anything …”

You shoved a tear away from your cheek. The skin reddened and ached there.

“I don’t know what happened after that,” You said. “He never came home. There was — there was nothing to bring back —“ Your voice clipped and broke.

“Enough,” Gaara muttered, a hand slipping to your shoulder. “It’s all right. You don’t have to go on.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was wet. You sniffed. “I’m okay, really.”

Gaara’s gentle touches helped you to put your emotions back where they belonged.

“Your brother sounds like he was a great man,” Gaara said. “We are lesser for having lost him.”

Your feelings gnawed and clawed for the surface. Did I forget to tell you my father thinks you killed him? And the only reason I’m here is to —?

You banished the thoughts with a jerk of your head.

“He was,” You said. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence, clogged with pain, followed.

“It’s getting late,” Baki remarked after a few seconds, studying the sky.

You followed his gaze. He wasn’t wrong; the heavens burned a deep orange, the blue of the sky retreating to darken into a near-black. You were no fool; Baki was saving the two of you from the suffocating silence. You caught his glance toward you before he quickly looked away.

Correction: Saving you especially.

“He’s right.” Gaara’s hand lingered at your shoulder before withdrawing. “We should be heading back for dinner. The others will be expecting us.”

You nodded. “Okay.” You managed a laugh. “I’m sor —“

“Don’t ever apologize for having feelings,” Gaara interrupted, eyes soft on you.

You smiled as Baki opened the door to the greenhouse. Whether it was from the new source of air, or Gaara’s warmth, or both, the place was easier to breathe in.

At the threshold, Gaara looked over his shoulder at you. “(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“You said you were a fan of the Icha Icha series,” Gaara replied, oblivious to Baki stiffening in front of him. “Would you mind explaining the books to me?”

Baki blanched with horror.

You fought a giggle. “I’d be delighted!”

“Well,” Kankuro’s voice piqued with interest, “it seems you two had a fun and eventful evening!”

“Yes …!” Gaara said. “First we …”

You let him summarize the day. You were content to be off your feet; the walking had murdered your feet, and they screamed in salvation as you sat at dinner. Later, you hoped to run a bath so you could soak before bed.

You wondered how long it would take for your father to reply. Hopefully soon, because … you were losing your resolve. You were never alone with Gaara, nor did you share his bed. How were you meant to do this? You knew Father would either tell you something to push you over the edge and solidify your resolve or the whole thing would be called off. Secretly, you hoped for the latter. You had never been allowed to date before, and if this is what it was like for everyone, you understood why people raved about it so much.

You hoped nothing would be waiting for you tonight; you were tired.

“That’s all wonderful,” Temari said hastily. “Wonderful, wonderful. (Y/n), how would you like to spend the day with me tomorrow?”

The boys lowered their forks to stare, Kankuro looking more in the know than Gaara.

“I’d be delighted, future sister-in-law!”

Temari giggled, waving you off. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Gaara said, turning to Kankuro. “And what about you? How was your first day as Kazekage?”

“I don’t know how you do it.” Kankuro leaned back and rubbed a balled fist in his eyes. “Thought the day was never gonna end.”

“It is grueling work,” Gaara said. “But it’s necessary work in order for the village to run smoothly.”

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to do it,” Kankuro peeked at you. “You — you better give him lots and lots of kids.”

“Kankuro!” Temari cried.

You went red. You had never even thought of having children with Gaara. You looked his way briefly before lowering your gaze to your meal.

“Speaking of which.” Gaara cleared his throat. “(Y/n) has been helping me understand Icha a lot more —“

Temari spit out her water.

“I still have questions about —“

“Mm, Gaara!” You interrupted with a hand on his. “Maybe not at the dinner table, okay?”

“Oh,” Gaara said innocently. “All right.”

Four days later. No letter came for you.

It was the morning after last and every moment you spent holed up in your room was murder; you lay in wake for a hawk to come and throw a curve in your world.

Temari hadn’t taken you out yet, too tired after the dinner the night before last; the four of you had stayed up playing shogi, and she had been so excited about winning nearly every match she forgot about a curfew and fell asleep at the last moment, drooling over the carpet while the rest of you enjoyed yourselves.

So, mostly, you stayed away from your room and spent time with Gaara and his siblings.

You liked them. You really, really liked them.

You frequently lost yourself in the beautiful turquoise of Gaara’s eyes, and when that wasn’t happening, Temari and Kankuro were pampering you or making you laugh, as much your siblings as Gaara’s, and when that wasn’t happening, Baki was treating you like a daughter, knocking on your door to ask you if you needed water or an extra blanket or helping you navigate your way through the palace or to the office. It all left you wondering if Father wasn’t … him. If this is what it was like to have a normal, sane man protecting you.

Friendship was alien to you. But this was even worse: this was a family. Despite their relation to the Kazekage and the responsibilities befalling them, they were a normal, loving family.

Still, you waited with chattering teeth and moist palms for the hawk you were beginning to hope would never come.

“What do you actually plan on doing with (Y/n)?” Kankuro asked, leaning against the door frame of her old bedroom.

“Shopping, of course,” Temari answered absentmindedly, making her bed.

“You don’t even like clothes,” Kankuro noted. “Come to think of it, I’ve never even seen you shop.”

“No, I don’t, but I suspect (Y/n) does,” Temari said. “She’s always wearing the loveliest yukatas around the place. Have you noticed? And anyway, it doesn’t matter; this gives me the perfect time to get her to let her guard down and let something slip.”

Kankuro sighed. “We’re still on that, huh …? Just forget about the oasis, okay? Don’t mention it to her. I��ve had no luck at the library.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Temari said. “I’m sure I can get her to spill something about Lord Boutoku’s plans —“

“What’s this?” Baki said at the door.

Kankuro jumped from the door frame. “Oh, h — hey, Baki, We were just —“

“What are you two up to?” Baki frowned. “This better not have anything to do with (Y/n). Just what’re you planning?”

“Nothing!” they said in unison.

Baki paused to pinch the space between his eyes. “Fine, I relent. Kankuro, you’re needed in the office.”

“What’s happening?” Kankuro asked gravely.

“It seems there was an egregious error in one of the documents you signed a day ago,” Baki explained droningly. “You promised those contractors two-thousand yen, not two-hundred-thousand yen. Now, they think they’ve struck gold and have taken to the streets —“

“Oh, for gods’ sake!” Temari threw her cover to the side. “This is exactly why you should’ve chosen me as sub-Kazekage or appointed yourself! I can’t believe this! Now, I’ve got to go talk to them and explain all this and —“ She pointed to Kankuro as she walked to the door, “ — fix your mistake! I can’t believe —!”

Temari sprinted out the door, lecturing absolutely no one, leaving Kankuro and Baki alone.

“This is why I’ll never get married,” Kankuro said. “Shikamaru’s really a man to be envied.”

And he abandoned the room as well.

“I think I need to up my migraine medication …” Baki spoke under his breath before following them.

Temari was late. You slipped into your sandals —

Squawk.

You froze.

You faced the window: a hawk, a curled letter attached to its leg.

You raced to the window. You untied the letter with trembling fingers. The hawk, unperturbed by your panic, flew away.

You sank against your windowsill. The letter unfurled. You began reading.

You SELFISH girl!

What have I done to vex the gods so that I was cursed with you? That beast masquerading as your betrothed is an absolute MENACE who has killed hundreds of people from our village and beyond. Perhaps I was wrong to trust you — how could you ever understand the complexities of this situation. If you have a shred of dignity left, you will commit yourself to silence and do what you’re told for once! The demise of the Kazekage will lead to the prosperity of our village and others for decades, possibly even centuries, to come! Are you in such desperate need of a reminder? I have entrusted our ninja to protect you and wait until you complete your mission, which you WILL do. After which they will go to work wiping out the Suna council and his disgusting siblings AFTER you are done with the job of killing him, which you WIL do . What is wrong with you? You would ally with the people who killed your brother in cold blood, simply because they smiled at you and gave you a place to sleep? What kind of street rat are you? Are you not my daughter? Well, since you need so much convincing to resist the temptation of allying with the people who have MURDERED members of your family, let alone your precious elder brother — who was the second to hold you after your disgraceful birth — let me enlighten you on how your brother died —

“(Y/n)?” Temari’s voice came down the hallway.

Quickly, you hid the letter under your pillow. You slapped a false smile on, given no time to process the ire of the letter as Temari appeared.

“Hey,” she said, all smiles. “Are you ready? Let’s get a move on!”

“Yes,” You said, your voice shaking from your father’s lashing. “Let’s.”

The shopping centers were bustling. Temari had clearly taken you to one of the more expensive areas of the village; it was not like when Gaara had taken you out; no one stopped to say hello or noticed Lady Temari or you out and about, so transfixed the shoppers were with their vibrant kimonos and embroidered cloths, their jewels and sparkling jades.

The excitement dizzied you. “You didn’t have to take me somewhere so decadent, Temari …” You muttered, looking around at the ornate sand buildings. Their signs would blare to life with neon colors come nightfall.

“Nonsense!” Temari nuzzled closer to you. “Only the best for my future sister-in-law!”

You nodded furiously out of fear of seeming ungrateful. The letter numbed her flattering sentiment. You walked with legs made of cotton, immaterial and ready to buckle any moment. You fought to get a hold of yourself. You had been sure Father would come through the letter to strangle you; his fury had messied his handwriting. If he was that mad in the letter, what was it like to behold him in real life …?

Will do. What would happen if you didn’t do as he said?

What would happen to you?

… Would he … kill you? Could he?

No … no, he couldn’t —

“Something seems to be on your mind,” Temari said, studying you.

Fear shrank you. You faced her. His disgusting siblings. “Just a little — uh — overwhelmed, is all.”

Temari chuckled. “I understand. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty to show off?”

A woman walked past with a layer of fabric slung over her arm.

Temari watched her walk away. “It’s funny … My father, the Fourth Kazekage, was so resentful of the Oasis village he had any and all items branded with scorpions banned.”

You swung your head, taken aback by the vitriol of the past. “What?”

Temari resumed walking. You tailed behind her. “He told me he came to despise the symbol of the scorpion so much he couldn’t bear the idea of people in his village donning it. It couldn’t be on bags or purses, or shirts or even rings. I didn’t totally believe him at the time and went looking — It’s in the records. Can you believe it?”

You suspected you were not being called to answer. Your mouth bobbed.

“I …”

“It was such a dark time.”

You aligned your steps with hers. Temari was taller than you and, judging from the look of her arms and legs, stronger. Her blouse exposed her back and you could detect the lean muscles molded there. You hid behind her, hoping, in your panicked state, she would protect you from …

She glanced over her shoulder at you. “I’m sure your father is still angry about the way the Sand has treated him, despite this arrangement.”

A bitter laugh quivered from your mouth. “He’s always angry.”

“I bet.” Temari spotted a store and beelined toward it. “Let’s go in there! It’s one of my favorites.”

You obediently followed.

Temari stopped abruptly, facing you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you … What even made Lord Boutoku set this up between you and my brother? After all, there were other villages in the Wind country he could have chosen.”

You paused. You met her eye. She’s grilling me.

Father’s voice thundered in your head: I trained you for this, do NOT ruin the plan, selfish girl …

A group of teenage girls brushed past to enter the store. Temari was not deterred.

You straightened and forced your voice airy and polite. “The truth is, the Oasis is willing to share their secrets if it means they and the Sand can be allies.”

Temari was silent. Clearly, you had thrown her.

“But,” You continued, “while we’re on the subject, why did the Sand agree at all? I’m not a ninja after all, so I’m not privy to any hidden techniques or anything the Sand may want. The Sand could have had us offer anything else. It didn’t have to be my hand.”

Silence. Temari stared —

The door flung open.

“Can it be?” A woman stood at the door with huge white hair and pink cheeks. “Lady Temari! What a blessing to have you come to my store!”

Temari blinked. “I —“

“Come in, come in!”

She ushered the two of you inside. Several girls lingered behind the counter with the same rosy cheeks as her.

“Ohhh!” The shopkeeper leaned uncomfortably close to your face. “And who is this?”

“That’s Lady (Y/n), mama!” One of the girls behind the counter said, holding her face. “The Kazekage’s fiancée!”

Galaxies erupted in the shopkeeper’s eyes. “OHH! What a blessing! What a blessing!”

“We — “ Temari struggled. “We were just looking —“

“Well then, I must show you my most prized section,” the shopkeeper said. “Only the finest apparel for the Kazekage’s family.”

She forced the two of you into a section separate from the front of the store. The shopkeeper thrust you into a private mall with floors and stairs to higher ones. Racks upon racks of clothes filled your eyes, along with the most divinely embroidered fabrics for crafting kimonos. Two other women there with you, apparently high class enough to be bestowed the same honor, but were too engrossed in their potential purchases to notice your appearances.

“Really, ma’am!” Temari pressed. “We’re — really not looking to —“

“Oh, don’t be modest, my lady!” said the shopkeeper. “Spend as much time as you want looking! Oh! And don’t be afraid to call me!”

She waved and shut the door, leaving the two of you in the museum of outfits.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind buying a few outfits since we’re out,” You told Temari. “If you don’t mind?”

Temari blinked, defeated. “Not … Not at all …”

You investigated the nearest racks while she got her bearings.

After a few minutes, she started again. “So, I was right to take you shopping?”

“Oh, yes.” You surveyed the racks. “Clothes … they’re really the only way I’ve ever been able to express myself as the daughter of a village head.”

“I can imagine it’s been very stifling for you.”

“Mhm …” You feigned interest in a glittering dress. Temari’s attention spidered up your back and you braced yourself for another set of incoming questions.

“You know,” she began. “Gaara’s kept his promise to your village; the first set of resources has been sent out already.”

You turned to her with a grateful smile. “Really? That’s fantastic news!”

“It is …” Temari leaned against a rack. “But I wonder … if your village is willing to spill its precious secrets, they must expect something truly invaluable in return.”

You knelt down to admire some shoes.

“The basics — water, weapons — that’s all fine, but … Your oasis is sacred, isn’t it?”

“The friendship of a previous enemy is plenty valuable.” You looked at her over your shoulder. “Don’t you think so? You were there for Gaara’s speech. He has such a way with words …”

“He does,” Temari said. “He’s done so much reading the past few years, absorbs words like a sponge. I’m proud of him. We all are.”

“I can imagine.”

“When he fainted on stage, I could’ve sworn you must’ve slipped something into his drink!”

Your heart drummed, but you willed your body still.

“Isn’t that funny?”

You rose with your most charming smile. “It’s hilarious! I can’t imagine what would make you think such a thing.”

Temari stared. Clearly, she was studying your face. The two women in the room exited, leaving you at Temari’s mercy. You collected some dresses, hoping your trembling arms would go unnoticed.

“Oh.” Temari bobbed her head. “I just remembered … Our fathers have only met once, I think.”

“Oh?” You passed her with a few dresses hung over your arm. You were sure of her eyes following you. You climbed the steps. Temari stalked behind you.

“Yes,” Temari said. “I must have been about ten when that meeting took place. If I remember correctly, there wasn’t much rapport after our father was confirmed dead.”

There’s no reason for the Oasis and Sand to become allies — unless one had ulterior motives …

You nodded, crossing into a new aisle. “Orochi … maru, was it? Horrible creature. I apologize on behalf of my father; he can be so classless sometimes. But …” You faced a new rack as Temari sharked toward you. “But … I imagine Konoha wasn’t shedding too many tears over the Fourth’s death, either. I think they should apologize for their silence as well. If they haven’t already. Don’t you?”

You shifted clothes on the rack — Temari’s hand blocked the hangers transferring.

“The Oasis would have much to gain from Gaara being removed. Or otherwise disposed of.”

You froze.

Shit.

You thanked whatever god you had to you were not facing her at that moment, for you were sure you would have blown it.

Think. Think. Have to throw her off.

You wracked your brain, thinking of what you knew about Temari so far.

You faced her after a beat. “Not at all.”

Temari stuttered. “What?”

“If Suna were to fall for whatever reason, it would throw the entire Wind country in disarray!” You said, as though the idea were ridiculous. “Suna is the seat of power on this side of the world. We would all suffer from it. The world of politics is so messy and pedantic as it is without bringing murder into the mix.”

It frightened you how true your words rang. The image of Father loomed in your mind, eager to deliver disapproval.

Authenticity proved your savior; Temari seemed to consider your words, leaving an opportunity open.

“Temari,” You began, feigning bashfulness. “I’ve been meaning to ask … what’s it like to be in love?”

“What?” Her face grew red, throwing hands in front of her face.

You toyed with the hem of one shirt. “I only wondered … I know I’ve only known Gaara for a few days, but I’ve grown to like him so much.”

None of it was a lie. You were growing to like Gaara a lot, a dangerous amount. You only knew romance from books, and a part of you did wonder if this fluttering in your chest was …

Temari recovered inchmeal to answer you. “It feels … good. To have someone understand you on that level.”

You smiled. “It must …!”

“I never thought I’d ever find someone I loved as much as my brothers,” Temari said, facing you again. “It would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.”

Oh no. You kept the guilt from your face.

“If anyone threatened them in any way,” she said, voice low, “I’d tear them apart.”

You would drown in the dark of her eyes. You stood, rooted beside her, silent.

She meant it. Temari crowded her brothers under her wings. If she discovered you, you would be torn apart and by her personally. There would be no excuse, no sob story you could bestow on her to make her reconsider. She would kill you.

But, if you failed, would Father?

Who were you more afraid of?

You swallowed —

The door burst open.

“How’s everything going?” the shopkeeper said. Her daughters’ heads peeked from behind. She spotted where you two stood on the second floor. “Hm? Finding everything okay?”

“Lady (Y/n), what’s the Kazekage like in private?”

“Is he charming? Oh, I bet!”

“Girls!” the shopkeeper barked.

Temari sighed before turning to you. “I’ll pay for everything. Let’s just go.”

Yes, please!

As though the past few moments hadn’t happened, Temari led you out of the section and to the cash register to pay.

It was strange for Gaara to watch someone else do his work. Kankuro sat on the other side of the Kazekage’s desk, his lips as he stamped another document and shuffled it into the done pile.

Anxiety gnawed at him; he of all people knew Temari could be … daunting.

“You don’t think Temari is scaring (Y/n) too much, do you?” Gaara asked.

“Yep,” Kankuro said, stamping another. “She’ll be calling this whole thing off and heading back to the Oasis tonight. Let’s not forget what she did to Tenten — and she wasn’t even trying to marry you or anything.”

Gaara imagined your back broken over the tip of Temari’s folding fan, lifeless and bleeding. He didn’t like the image at all and shook his head blank.

“Kankuro?”

“Hm?”

“What do men … do with women?” Gaara asked, hands in his lap. “I want to be a good host to (Y/n), but I’ve never done this before. I’m running out of ideas.”

Kankuro snorted. “What? Icha Icha didn’t give you any ideas?”

“It definitely plugged up some holes.” Gaara heard his brother snickering but, unable to understand why, returned to thinking. “But there’s much that seems so complicated. How do you date a girl …? And why would a mother pursue her son-in-law?”

Kankuro nearly fell over. “She … she really did explain those books to you, didn’t she?”

Gaara looked to his brother for help.

Kankuro sighed. “All right, well, you’re doing fine as it is, Gaara. Girls like being wined and dined, and they like surprises and gifts. You know, fun things.”

“Fun things …”

“Just take some time to brainstorm,” Kankuro said. “You can bounce some ideas off of me. I’m …” He looked up at his stack of paperwork. “I’m not going anywhere …”

Gaara thought to himself. He and you were both people of the desert. Surely there were more things you could share with one another?

What could he do … What —

It came to him.

“Kankuro, I think I have an idea!”

Pride shone in Kankuro’s eyes. “I’m all ears.”

For the rest of the evening, Temari was noticeably defanged. You had passed whatever test Temari had put you through. Now the two of you were finally having a normal day out.

You wanted to be proud of yourself, but you didn’t know how to be, or if you were allowed. For what? Your assassination plot having not been found out?

“I’ll order us lunch,” Temari said as she placed the menu on the table.

“Thank you.”

“I was thinking about what you said,” Temari said.

You grew nervous, fidgeted in your seat. “Hm?”

“About being in love,” Temari clarified. “I’ve spent time with my fiancée’s family — the Naras — and it was nice. Being around an ordinary family. As opposed to what our families are like, you know?”

You blinked. From your perspective, the Sand siblings were an ordinary family.

“I — Yes, I get you.”

Temari laughed to herself. “It’s rough being the only girl, isn’t it? All the bullshit we have to take from the men. The constant threat of political marriages.”

You perked. This you could understand. “And you’re the oldest, aren’t you?”

“Ugh!” Temari flew back in her chair. “Don’t remind me. You know, my father tried to marry me off once?”

“No.”

“Yes!” Temari leaned in, excited. She twirled a finger to jog her memory. “Some boy from the Land of Rivers — don’t even remember his name.”

“What happened to him?”

“He said something about my ass and I nearly broke his neck.”

The two of you exploded into giggles. You adjusted one of the shopping bags at your feet so as to not knock it over.

“Not for lack of trying. Suffice to say, that ended things and he went home,” Temari said.

You wiped a tear from your eye. “I can imagine!”

“So, Lord Boutoku really lets you read Icha Icha?” Temari said, disbelieving.

“He insists,” You pressed. “He thinks it’s the only thing ladies should read so they know how to please men.”

Temari shook her head. “No offense, but I’m liking the man less and less.”

“None taken. But I started liking them quite a lot on my own.”

Food came at last, a myriad of different dishes — miso soup, fish, steaming rice — and the two of you dove in.

You sipped your jasmine tea to wash your throat. “Mmm …”

“Good?”

“So good.” You inhaled the steam warming your nose.

“So,” Temari began. “You really like Gaara, don’t you?”

You set your tea down. “I do. He’s … nothing I expected.”

“Has he … told you anything?”

You caught her meaning. “He’s told me he’s had a difficult past.”

“Ah.” Temari preoccupied herself with the removal of onions from her salad. “So … no details, then?”

You paused. “No.”

You remembered your father’s letter and how you hadn’t had the chance to finish it. His words rang in your head still, and you hadn’t even endured the full torrent of his ire. Chills snaked over your skin despite the heat of the tea trickling down your throat. Temari sobered up as she minded her meal. You frowned.

“Temari?”

She looked up. “Oh, Nevermind me! We should keep things light!”

“Yes.” Relief replaced the chills. “Let’s.”

“I’ll tell you about the time Shikamaru’s father walked in on my changing and swallowed one of his cigarettes.”

“Oh, gods,” You leaned in. “Shoot.”

Dusk overran evening once the two of you returned to the Suna palace, barring shopping bags and giggling over anecdotes. Gaara and Kankuro loitered around the entrance.

They must have been waiting for us. So cute!

Gaara scanned the myriad of bags with a smile. “You must have had a good time, since it’s so late out,” he surmised.

“We did!” Temari chirped before facing Kankuro. “Hope you didn’t pass any more asinine orders in our absence, Kankuro.”

Kankuro hmphed and crossed defiant arms. “I’ll have you know I finished all the work early today.”

“Good, so you can help us carry bags inside —“

Temari swung bags in Kankuro’s face and he yelped.

The four of you hurried into the living room. Servants relieved you of your bags and moved to leave them in your respective rooms. The four of you piled into the dining room for dinner, for it was not long before varying plates of food — fish platters, potatoes, red wine (you gulped; Gaara fidgeted), figs — were brought to the table.

“The onigiri is immaculate,” You said, admiring the cute rice pyramids. “I have to send compliments to the chef.”

Kankuro shot Temari a look you couldn’t interpret. You returned to your meal.

Kankuro nudged Gaara’s arm with a mouthful of biscuit. “Gaara, don’t you have something to tell (Y/n)?”

“Yes, about that …” Gaara turned to you proudly.

“Well, don’t leave us in suspense,” Temari said. “Spill it!”

“I’ve prepared some things so all of us can take a vacation to the beach.”

You shot up from your chair. “The beach?”

Gaara paused, clearly startled. “Y—Yes,” he said. “Is … is that all right?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed. “That’s … oh my — it’s fantastic! I’ve never been to a beach! A beach in the desert?”

“You’d be surprised,” Kankuro said. “Weirder things are out there.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, but, Gaara.” Temari faced her brother. “What about the office?”

“Baki will take over for Kankuro for the weekend we’re gone so we can enjoy ourselves,” Gaara explained. “He offered; he thinks it’s a good idea for us to bond, as we’ll all be family soon —“

You flew over the table and enveloped Gaara in a hug.

“Oh, thank you!” You squealed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you —!“

Temari and Kankuro giggled while Gaara pet you on the shoulder.

“I’ve only ever read about beaches in books!” You leaned away, one arm still wrapped around Gaara’s shoulder. “I wish you had told me — I don’t even have a bathing suit!”

“That can be arranged,” Temari quipped. “Another quick shopping trip will fix that, I think.”

“It’ll be like a pre-honeymoon!” Kankuro shrugged. “But, you know, with us.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gaara said. “I want us all to enjoy ourselves as (Y/n) and I get to know each other.”

“I agree!” You said.

You smiled at him — only to realize your hug had left you situated in his lap. You leaped away.

“S — Sorry, Gaara.” You bowed, your voice a squeak. “I —“

But Gaara took your hand and kissed it lightly, causing you to blush.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Kankuro cornered Temari as she prepared for bed, organizing papers on her desk.

“So,” he said.

Temari dimmed her lamp, leaving them in semidarkness. “So what?”

“So. C’mon,” Kankuro said. “Just admit you like (Y/n).”

“All right, fine,” Temari sighed. “Despite how horrible Lord Boutoku is. She’s … nice.”

“Finally. Told you she’s not up to anything.” Kankuro tilted his head.

“Why are you grilling me, anyway?” Temari asked.

“Because I know what this is really about,” Kankuro said, leaning against the door frame as he had done before.

Temari sat on the edge of her bed, crossed her legs and arms. “Well, go ahead. Enlighten me.”

“You don’t want to let go of Gaara,” Kankuro said matter-of-factly. “He’s your little baby brother and now he’s all grown up, but you’ve mothered him for so long you can’t accept that he doesn’t need you like he used to.”

Temari rose with a scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

“And,” Kankuro continued. “I had hoped that you would realize all on your own, but alas, I have to save the day — again. Sucks being the only sane one around here.”

“That’s just silly!”

“And,” Kankuro went on, “Now, I’m gonna have to call Shikamaru to come get you because —“

Temari held an arm akimbo. “How dare you insinuate I need a man to reign me in —”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Baki entered the room. “What is it now?”

Kankuro and Temari rounded on each other.

“Temari’s being silly —“

“Kankuro’s the silly one!” Temari bit back. “With all his crazy Kazekage orders and —“

“Okay. Enough.” Baki said. “The two of you have done nothing but bicker and fight over Lord Kazekage’s happiness from the moment Lady (Y/n) arrived.”

“That’s …” Temari deflated. “That’s not …”

“The two of you will stop scheming — both of you.” Baki narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care who started what. Kankuro, stop antagonizing your sister. And Temari, let your brothers breathe for once? You’re both too old for this. If you love your brother as much as you say you do, you will band together to help ensure this arrangement goes well, and he has fewer enemies to worry about in the future. Understand?”

Kankuro and Temari faced each other.

“I’m … sorry,” Temari relented.

“So am I,” Kankuro said.

Baki sighed. “Good, that’s a start. Now, get some rest. We have to begin planning your trip in the morning.”

Baki gave them a lingering stare before leaving the room.

Temari retook her seat on the bed. “Gaara … does seem very happy. With her. So far.” She lowered her head, as though considering other things coming to mind. “And I guess it is really something to be set up to marry someone you could actually grow to love.”

Kankuro nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t happen every day, does it?”

Temari shook her head. “No …” She lent Kankuro her hand. “Truce?”

Kankuro smiled, approached her, and shook her hand. “Truce.”

Your head had snuggled against the pillow when you realized —

The letter.

You rivaled the part of yourself desiring to drift off to sleep and forget the entire wretched correspondence. But you knew you couldn’t, not with the way your chest grew to ache with anxiety, come to reunite with you like an old friend. You hooked a hand under the pillow. Paper crinkled under your palm. You pulled it out and sat up.

With dread cemented in your chest, you continued to read:

That boy is a scourge upon the earth who killed his mother to come into this world. My precious Hideo got caught in his wretched jutsu. His Sand Burial, I’m told. The damage done to Hideo’s body was so egregious we could never collect his body —

You dropped the paper as though burned by it. You stared at it, wide-eyed.

It was a moment or two before you reclaimed it to continue. You read the passage several times to convince yourself the words were real. Teardrops splattered near the edge of the paper, expanding like watercolor suns. Nausea whirled your stomach, but your eyes ran over the words anyway:

You disgrace us. If you do not do this, I will personally have you put you to death once the coup begins. Do not test me again.

The letter abruptly ended, exacerbating the chill of it, the finality. You let it fall away to the side before you could add more tears to its face. Bile rose in your throat, threatening vomit, but your legs would not move; you were too weak to move them.

Hideo’s beautiful face came to your mind, his beautiful smile and eyes — only to drown in blood.

You clutched your head, sunk into your lap. Your two realities sat between you, forever at odds.

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Gaara and his siblings — they had been so nice to you. He had been so nice to you. He would never … could never be capable of such things.

Hideo kept flaring in your mind to die horrid deaths. Again and again, his mangled body reached out to you, begging for help —

“No!”

You knocked the letter over.

You refused to believe it — believe Father. Gaara would never, and even if he had — he would have told you … he would have remembered and called things off.

If he even remembered or knew Hideo’s name. If he hadn’t killed so many, your brother joined a nameless herd —

You shoved your father’s voice aside like a real thing, rejecting it.

A burst of energy had you leaving your bed, letter in hand. You started a fire in the fireplace.

Gaara had been nicer to you than anyone you had ever met. Save for Hideo, who would never stand for this, you knew. You were happier than you had ever been with him and his siblings.

Gaara was kind.

Your father had never been kind.

Corrupt, cruel, capricious. His crimes were stacked up by the dozens as you determined to recall them all. He had yelled at you, assaulted you, called you a disgrace, called you selfish. In what way were you selfish? What had he ever asked of you that you hadn’t given? I’m here because he asked!

No.

You tore the letter in two. Threes. Fours. If only you had a fire, you would thrust it in the flames and let them eat the corners away before disposing of the thing. Your father was insane, you knew. None of it could be true. Gaara was kind and gentle and — and the two of you were to be married soon. He was taking you to the beach.

I don’t believe you, Father.

You collected the letter’s pieces and went to the window, letting the pieces flee from your hands and scatter to the wind like snow. You wrestled with the necklace around your neck, its poisonous contents, and clutched a hand around its pendant.

I’ll keep it. And if Father comes, I’ll use what’s inside to protect Gaara. Or myself .

The rest of the thick of the night was spent sorting out your thoughts. You wouldn’t tell them about your father’s plot yet, and it was entirely due to your cowardice. You remembered Temari’s words and the look she’d given you. If you couldn’t convince them you were on their side, you were sure you would be jailed — or killed. Regardless of your reasons.

No, you would wait after the trip, then you would tell them. The coup could only begin once you gave the word to the other Oasis nin meant to protect you. Father couldn’t do anything until then. And, if your father chose to be impulsive and come, he wouldn’t find Gaara or his siblings here — all of you would be miles away … His plan would fail.

With your thoughts ironed out, you settled in for bed, but it would be long before sleep would claim you. Due to the horrific imagery your father had given you — and what your mind chose to torture you with.

Gaps, endless voids, sprouted in between the horror, and you let daydreams of Gaara and the beach fill those gaps.

#gaara x reader #gaara x you #gaara x y/n #gaara smut #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you

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imogenkol · 3 months

Text

— WIP WHENEVER

tagged by @cassietrn and @socially-awkward-skeleton thank you lovelies! 💕

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @jackiesarch @gwynbleidd @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut

My brain has been mostly fried the past couple weeks, but I managed to play Phantom Liberty and really enjoyed it so Vaune is getting more attention from me finally (major spoilers for the DLC!)

The shadows casted from the low light of the monitor in the back of the van only accentuated how gaunt So Mi’s features had become as she slumped wearily against the front seat. She looked ghoulish — like just another ghost that took up space in Vaune’s already crowded head. She swallowed a lump in her throat, gripped by mounting fear that the netrunner wouldn’t make it down the block, much less all the way to the spaceport and into a shuttle. The merc quickly ran through all of her options when So Mi shuddered.

“V?”

Vaune placed a steady hand on her knee. “Yeah?”

“I don’t wanna die,” she whimpered with a fear so deep it sounded more akin to sorrow. Even with the booster, So Mi started to fade. Her next plea came out slow and slurred. “Can’t help but regret… I just… Help me.”

At the back of Vaune’s mind, she had the thought that those words may just be the most genuine ones So Mi has said to her thus far.

And then it clicked.

One and only one, So Mi had said.

Vaune didn’t know exactly how yet, but she suddenly became struck with the certainty that there was no cure. Not for her, at least. After Reed’s warnings, So Mi’s insistence, the desperation of someone who had nothing left to lose at death’s door, it became crystal clear in Vaune’s mind.

She had been played by them all in one way or another. Myers, Reed, now So Mi. She had to be Night City’s biggest fucking fool. What a goddamn mess.

“Fuck, V,” Johnny’s voice echoed in her mind as he flickered into existence in the passenger seat. Vaune didn’t need to see his expression to know how conflicted he felt about the situation — she was at a loss, herself. “What are you gonna do?”

The merc couldn’t say she felt surprised. A huge part of her had been waiting for the other shoe to drop this entire time. Dead end after dead end after dead end. Why would this be any different? She should be angry with So Mi. She should call Reed and end this whole thing right here and now.

But Vaune looked at this terrified young woman who had lost everything, dying in the back of a van from corrupted tech, and saw nothing but a mirror. Vaune couldn’t bring herself to hate her. And she certainly couldn’t bring herself to completely abandon her, not this late in the game. Vaune had been hired to do a job. She was going to follow through.

Someone should get to live.

She reached out, gently took So Mi’s face in her hands and told her what she desperately longs to hear herself from the lips of someone who actually means it. “You’re not gonna die.”

So Mi weakly leaned into her touch, but her features twisted in more hopeless agony. “You’re a good person, V,” she said with obvious regret.

Vaune gritted her teeth as her face fell. All of the people she’s unintentionally gotten killed or hurt would probably beg to differ. In all likelihood, it’ll end the exact same for So Mi, too. It always seemed to go that way whenever she tried to do the right thing.

“Hang tight,” Vaune said, giving her shoulder an encouraging pat. She pulled away and climbed into the driver’s seat, ignoring the apparition’s hard stare beside her. “I’m gonna get you where you need to go.”

#oc insp: vaune iyer #yeah they had ~something~ goin on #one of those 'do I have feelings for you or am I projecting my own issues onto you and saving you because I can't save myself' situations #Vaune really does fall a little bit in love with every female character in this game tbh #Panam was just the one to actually bag her

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 1 year

Text

Meeting Jacinth

Jacinth Masterlist

Y/N’s shoes crushed the leaves underfoot as she wandered aimlessly throughout the forest, searching for any sign of her campsite. She waved her phone in the air in front of her, trying to get a signal. The moon shone high in the night sky, but its pale light was shrouded by ghostly clouds. The trees towered over Y/N, their leaves rustling in the faint breeze. Y/N shivered and adjusted her backpack, pressing on through the undergrowth. She was starting to regret coming to this forest.

The more Y/N walked, the denser the woods became. That didn’t seem right. She had made camp in a clearing, where the trees were much smaller and further spaced apart. Nothing like what she was walking through now, where the roots of the trees broke through the soil in angry knots, and the branches above blocked out what little moonlight made its way through the night clouds.

Y/N whipped around when she heard a rustling noise from behind her. Shining the flashlight on her phone toward the source of the noise, she found nothing but foliage. It must’ve been a raccoon or something. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, only to be met with a tall figure. Y/N screamed in fright. She stumbled back and tripped over a root. The figure moved to catch her before she could fall.

“S-sorry,” Y/N said, “you startled me. I didn’t think anyone else was out here.”

The figure chuckled. Now she was up close, Y/N could see that he was a man, looking to be around her age, with long, dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. The night must’ve been playing tricks on her, because Y/N could swear that his skin had an azure hue.

“Are you alright?” the man asked.

“Yeah, I,” Y/N swallowed, “I’m okay.”

The stranger helped Y/N to her feet.

“What are you doing out so late?” the stranger asked, “it’s dangerous to wander this deep into the forest.”

“I got lost,” Y/N admitted, “I was hiking, and I lost track of time and by the time I figured I should head back… I didn’t know where I was…”

“I know these woods pretty well,” the stranger said, “maybe I could help you find your campsite?”

“You could!?” Y/N exclaimed, “I mean, uh, yeah, that’d be great, thank you.”

The stranger smiled and started to walk with Y/N back the way she had come. Y/N described the campsite to him; he nodded, seeming to know exactly where she was talking about.

“I’m Jacinth, by the way,” he said, “may I have your name?”

“I’m Y/N,” Y/N answered, “do you come camping here often?”

A glint seemed to flicker across Jacinth’s eyes.

“I live in these woods as a matter of fact,” Jacinth said, “do you enjoy camping?”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N said, “I love nature. I came here because I heard this forest was pretty secluded.”

“Indeed it is,” Jacinth agreed, “Stop here, Y/N.”

Suddenly, as though her body was on puppet strings, Y/N stopped in her tracks.

“What’s up?” Y/N asked.

“You’re going to be coming to live with me,” Jacinth said.

Alarm bells rang in Y/N’s head. So this guy wasn’t just a good Samaritan. Y/N’s knife was in her pocket, she just started to reach for it when-

“Relax, Y/N.”

Y/N’s arms dropped to her sides. Y/N was fully panicking now, but her body didn’t show it. She tried to move something, anything, but she just stood there. Jacinth moved so that he was standing in front of her. He gently removed her backpack from her shoulders. He took her phone out of her hand and tossed it to the ground.

“You won’t need those anymore,” he said softly.

Jacinth stepped behind Y/N. She followed him with her eyes until he was out of her line of vision. Her eyes widened and she wanted to yelp as she felt the world tilt on its axis. She looked up at Jacinth, who had swept her into a bridal carry.

“Foolish little human,” he chuckled, “adorable, but foolish.”

Jacinth began to carry her back the way they had come. Y/N wanted to scream, or to at least struggle, but her limbs wouldn’t cooperate. Besides, Jacinth’s grip felt rather strong.

“Soon, we’ll be home,” Jacinth said, “I’ll wake you when we get there. For now, sleep Y/N.”

Y/N thought her body couldn’t feel any heavier, but she was soon corrected as she felt herself sinking into Jacinth’s grip. The stars above began to blur, and her eyelids started fluttering shut. The last thing Y/N registered before drifting off was Jacinth pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my little human.”

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

#yandere writing #yandere whump #reader whump #fem reader #fae whumper #yandere fae #fae x reader #yandere community #writing #writeblr #creative writing #creative writing community #Jacinth x fem reader #OC x reader #whump #hurt/comfort #whump community #kidnapping #mind control

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p-artsypants · 4 months

Text

Paint it Black (14) Investigating

Ao3 | FF.net

“Chief Anderson Duffy speaking,” said the voice through the Batmobile’s intercom.

“This is Batman. I’m calling regarding the investigation you conducted with the missing boys.”

“Oh! Batman! Right, well, just as you requested, we removed the remains and returned them to those who had families. The rest were cremated. If this is truly the work of Joker and Two-Face as you suspect, we will ultimately leave their capture up to you. I have assigned a team to look into their locations. With a month headstart, I can’t guarantee we’ll find them. They may even be back in Gotham.”

“They aren’t,” he said definitively. “I have my sources. They haven’t been seen in Gotham in months. I highly suspect they’re still in Jump, laying low and trying to think of a new plan.”

“Well, we’ll let you know if we find anything, but they did a good job of clearing their tracks.”

“Did you leave everything else where it was?”

“Just like you requested.”

“Good. I’ll let you know if I learn anything new.”

“Good luck, Batman.”

He ended the call, heaving a sigh of relief. Working with the Gotham PD was always a pain, and if Gordan wasn’t on duty, it was damn near impossible. So when Jump PD was so cooperative, it was like a breath of fresh air.

He assumed their disposition was thanks to Robin.

The Batmobile pulled up to the building, the address that Cyborg had provided him with. Two dudes were having a smoke on the opposite street.

“Hey, you Batman?” One guy called.

Batman just looked at him as he closed his door.

“Like the real one?”

“Who wants to know?”

“You the one that’s been catching the petty crooks and leaving love notes?”

“No. Just got into town.”

The guy nudged his buddy. “See, told you it wasn’t Batman.”

“You guys smoke here often?” Batman asked.

“Fairly. Live upstairs.” He threw his thumb at the building they were leaning against. “Why?”

“Ever see any freaks come out of this building?”

One guy, the larger of the two, dropped his cig and stomped it out, and then came closer to Batman so he could talk in a softer voice. “I mean no disrespect Batman, but everyone in this neighborhood makes it a point to mind their own business. It’s not safe to witness anybody coming in or out of any place.”

Batman grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “I’m not asking about other people coming and going. I’m asking about a clown or a man with half his face burnt to a crisp. I don’t give two shits about anything else.”

“G-got it. Yeah, uh…I definitely saw those guys.”

Batman set him down.

“It was a while back. Probably a month was the last time. They were noisy as hell. Always laughing. I heard gunshots a few times.”

“Do you know where they went?”

“Sorry, I don’t. But I always knew they were in when I saw a white utility van parked where you are now. Some electric company logo on the side that I can’t remember. Oh, and the license plate started with ‘A’, if I remember that right.”

Batman gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“Don’t mention it.” He started walking back to his friend. “Seriously. Don’t.”

Batman went back to the parking space, scanning the ground for tire marks. Several prints came back, so he abandoned that idea.

Then he went to the backdoor that Cyborg had detailed in his report. It was unlocked, but he had a feeling anyone that tried to loot the building would quickly change their mind.

The torture room was worse in person. Blood everywhere. Horrible devices spread across tables and hanging on the wall. But no empty syringes, no notes, no journals. Nothing of use. Just enough information to paint a very ugly narrative of nineteen young men finding their doom, and one entering a torturous existence.

But perhaps the information he was looking for was never in this room to begin with. He scoured the building. Checking every room he passed.

He did find an office. There wasn’t much that would allow him forward, but there were some documents left behind that would shed a little more light on the experiment.

Three piles of applications.

14 labeled as ‘fodder’. This pile consisted of deeply disturbed and highly medicated individuals with conditions such as schizophrenia or other psychotic disorders.

Another pile of 5 were labeled ‘true candidates’. This group had been hospitalized for violent episodes towards other minors or foster families. They all were diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder or Bipolar.

Then, there was one application in between the two piles labeled ‘Control’. It was Robin’s.

‘This one has a strong moral code, despite his level of depression. He may help or hinder the experiment, but is not expected to last long.’

Batman couldn’t help but snort. Neither Joker or Dent were scientists, and had no idea what they had gotten into.

It looked like these applications had come from the beginning of the project and that further documents had been taken wherever they had gone.

Then there was the basement. Those two rooms may not contain anything useful, but he was not doing his due diligence if he didn’t at least check it out.

It took him a minute to find the ladder that Raven had mentioned, but soon he was able to let himself down to the dark, dank, hell mouth.

It still smelled foul, even without a body still hanging around. But it was a smell Batman had encountered before and knew how to deal with. A dab of Vick’s in the nose, and he could handle being down here for a little while at least.

He checked out the containment room first.

There were some flies, still subsisting off of the putrid puddles on the floor. The Slade bot laid in a heap on the ground, broken to pieces.

As he moved around the room, he noticed tick marks on some of the walls, as evidently the boys were trying to keep track of how long they had been there.

He saw Starfire’s name on the wall, written in blood.

He flipped the unsaturated mattresses, just checking for any hidden messages, but found nothing.

Nothing but grief.

So he moved on.

The room next door had housed the skulls of the other victims. The cards that had labeled the skulls remained in place, while the bones were gone. The knives on the workbench were in the same position as the photo.

Out of the three drums of sulfuric acid, one was gone. The two remaining were still factory sealed.

Batman made a call.

“Chief Anderson Duffy,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

“It’s Batman. What information did you glean from the drum of sulfuric acid that’s gone?”

“Oh that. Forensics were on that. Let me see what they reported.” There were some clacking of keys on the other end. “They found trace bone fragments in the acid. Says here that the acid didn’t contain the sludge often left over from dissolving a body, let alone 18. They think that these sickos may have only dissolved a few parts of a small number of bodies, before deciding to do something else with the remains.”

Batman growled, disgusted, frustrated, and angry.

These were all boys with full lives ahead of them. Boys that were taken advantage of because of where they were in life. Orphans, sick, vulnerable, impressionable. They could have been helped. They could have—

He tried not to dwell on that. They were gone, and it was his job to find out where they were taken.

I don’t eat processed meat because I don’t want to accidentally eat human meat.

At first, Batman had foolishly taken the statement at face value. Black said something insane, because that’s what he was. It was shock value, it was delusional, it was paranoid…but now it made sense.

“I know where the other bodies were taken.”

“Oh great! Just tell us where to look and we’ll take care of it.”

“Unfortunately, nothing is going to be recovered. I’m fairly certain they were cooked and fed to the other victims.”

There was silence from the other line, Batman assumed shock. “...If that’s what you think, we’ll go with it for now. I would like proof though.”

“I’ll get you either a confession from the Joker or Dent, or a witness account from the survivor.”

“You found the survivor?”

“Yeah. He’s in treatment. His mental condition is very unstable and he has retrograde amnesia. It might be a while before he’s able to talk about this incident.”

Duffy was quiet for a while before admitting, “you’ve made more headway on this case in the two days you’ve been here than the four months we’ve been working it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Chief. I know how these two operate, and the clues they left were only going to be picked up by me.”

“Well, at any rate, thank you for working with us. Now, if only we could make some headway in Robin’s case.”

Batman huffed. “Who do you think the survivor was?”

“What? Really? That’s excellent! Well, maybe not, considering what you said about his mental state.”

“You would do me a great favor if you closed that case and stopped thinking about it.”

“Right. I’ll pretend like I don’t know anything. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will.” And he hung up.

There was a part of Batman that was frustrated with how messy this whole thing had gotten. Of course Robin was going to go undercover when he heard about this operation. Of course the easiest and least suspicious way to do so was to use the identity he used as a volunteer at the hospital.

He just hated that it led back to his real name, and now that name wasn’t safe anymore.

He was less concerned that Richard Grayson be linked back to Bruce Wayne, because really, how uncommon was the name?

Emerging from the basement, he crossed over the threshold to the torture chamber and twitched in surprise when he saw a man sitting in the rigged dentist’s chair.

It was not the half-faced mask he wanted to see.

“Ah, so that truly was the Batmobile out front. Interesting.”

Batman observed this new foe quickly, taking in the armor, the physique, the posture, and lack of weapons.

“I have no business with you, Slade. But I suppose I could fit time into my busy schedule.”

“You have heard of me. How nice. My old apprentice mentioned me?”

“No. My old friend mentioned a psychopath blackmailed him into stealing. I told him not to worry too much about a grown man that gets his rocks off bullying children.”

Slade’s eye narrowed. He tilted his head slightly, his expression completely hidden behind his mask. “So. What does the great Batman want in my building?”

“You own this block? I assumed it was abandoned.”

“‘Owned’ is a…loose term. I acquired it, because no one wanted it. It serves its purpose to me.”

“Ever rent it out?”

“No. Which is why I’m here. Heard someone was playing doctor while I was away.”

“Taking a vacation?” Batman snipped.

“Something like that,” Slade said casually. “I died. Did some sight-seeing in hell. Did some overtime during the apocalypse and got my flesh back. Then I spent several weeks trying to relearn how to walk.” He shifted so his head rested on his fist. “And now I hear I missed out on a very interesting experiment…but why would that concern Batman so much to bring him all the way here?”

“Ever heard of the Joker or Two-Face?”

“I subscribe to Villains Monthly.”

“Got jokes, do you?”

“I have a new lease on life Batman. Got a little more…pep in my step.”

“I hope those steps lead you out of my way.”

“You’re very serious, aren’t you? I see where Robin gets it from.”

Batman just glared at him.

“In case you’re wondering, I had nothing to do with whatever happened here. Frankly, I’m rather upset I wasn’t invited. I have clean up to do, since your friends decided to make a mess. So if you wouldn’t mind showing yourself out, that’d be just swell.”

“Sure,” said Batman. “But before I leave,” he cracked his knuckles, “why don’t I take the trash out?”

—-

Batman returned to the Titan’s tower about an hour later, a limp in his step and blood on his uniform.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Alfred asked as he entered. The rest of the Titans were sitting around at the table, empty plates in front of them.

“Fine. Just…had a little altercation. Tore the stitching in my leg.” He slid in next to Beast Boy, and leaned on his arms.

Raven was quick to go to him, and pressed a healing hand to his wound. “What happened?”

“I did a little investigating into that building where Robin was held, hoping for a lead to where Joker and Dent may have gone. Instead I ran into the building’s owner.”

Alfred placed a plate of Chicken Parmesan in front of him.

“...was the owner a tough dude?” Beast Boy asked, noticing the blood on his shirt was from his own nose.

He huffed, annoyed. He didn’t really want to reveal all this to them for several reasons, but they needed to know. “Yeah, tougher than expected. He’s a man by the name of Slade. Ever heard of him?”

Cyborg, who was on his fourth serving, nearly choked on his mouthful of pasta, while the other Titans gasped in horror.

“But he—” Starfire protested.

“Trigon resurrected him,” Raven bit. “He was there in the final battle, and then he disappeared.”

“Apparently, he had to relearn how to walk,” said Batman, shooing Raven away from his leg. “I took care of him. He put up a fight, but I knocked him unconscious and delivered him to Duffy personally. That’s why I’m late.”

The Titans shared a look, all being slightly embarrassed that Batman had been able to do alone what they hadn’t been able to do together.

“I can’t imagine this is going to actually stop him, but I bought you some time.” He finally started eating some of his dinner. “And he was tough, but definitely not ready to fight. I think he was still weak.”

“Still, it’s a little humiliating that you had to take care of our bad guy,” Beast Boy winced.

Batman smirked slightly. “I have had daydreams about sending that bastard to the hospital. Robin told me all about what happened with that sham of an apprenticeship. Blackmailing him by infecting teens with nanobots that slowly and painfully kill them unless he does what he wants? Sounds like Arkham’s next inmate.” He took a drink of water. “But that’s something to worry about later. How’s Robin—or Black, I suppose?”

“He is unwell,” Starfire looked over to the couch. For the first time, Batman noticed the boy was laying down, but was very still and quiet. “He did not eat dinner, and says…I believe the phrase was, ‘his think meat was thrown against a wall’?”

“That’s not a real metaphor,” Beast Boy offered. “That’s just his brand of stupidity.”

“Well, he’s making jokes, so he’s doing alright for now,” Batman argued. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. Right, Robin?” He asked a little louder, so he could hear him.

The other boy didn’t answer for a really long time, but the team was quiet and listened if either Black or Robin would respond.

Then, in the quiet of the room, with only the hum of the air system and a ticking clock on the wall, he sang. It was in his pathetic falsetto, with a scratchy tone. Up until now, Black’s songs had really depressing lyrics, but he had delivered them joyfully. This time, the song was far too sad.

“I am…the only one that got through. The others died wherever they fell.”

Starfire floated up from where she was seated and rested on the couch beside him, petting his head gently.

“It was an ambush…they came up from all sides.”

Batman set his silverware down quietly and listened very closely.

“Give your Masters each a gun and then let them fight it out themselves.”

Beast Boy swallowed thickly, biting his tongue. Black had changed the lyrics.

“I've seen demons coming up from the ground. I've seen hell upon this Earth.”

Raven closed her eyes as the image of that corpse came to mind against her will.

“The next will be chemical…but they will never stop.”

Alfred turned his back, hiding his face.

Once silence reigned for more than a minute, it was clear that the message was over.

“He changed the lyrics,” both Batman and Beast Boy said.

“The song is ‘In Memory of Harry Patch’,” Batman elaborated. “He changed ‘give your leaders’ to ‘give your masters’ and ‘they will never learn’ to ‘they will never stop’.”

“What do you suppose he was trying to say?”

“Maybe he thought Dent and Joker turned on each other? Or perhaps they’re going to try this again?” Batman mused aloud.

Black sat up from the couch, and they could already see the faint veins standing out against his pale skin. “Can I have one of dem Gumby skittles?”

“No,” Batman said, not blinking an eye. “We’re not giving you any medicine for a while, because we need a clean blood test.”

Black frowned and turned to Starfire. “You said that if I was ever in pain I should come to you, because you don’t like to see me in pain.”

Starfire hunched her shoulders, feeling guilty. “You are right, but I cannot give you the medicine you require. Perhaps a shoulder massage will help?”

He stood, stretching. “No. I think I’ll just go lay down in bed for a while, where it’s dark and quiet.”

Batman swirled some noodles around on his fork. “Alright, we’ll check on you in a little bit.”

Black nodded in understanding and left the ops room. He only stopped into his room for a moment to grab his trenchcoat, before escaping quickly to the hall, and then to the underground access tunnel.

Thank goodness for fingerprint scanners.

#fanfiction #teen titans #animated tt #teen titans 2003 #robin #dick grayson #starfire #koriandr #batman

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mortemersgf · 9 months

Note

missed you a ton! how about something fluffy, like a nice reunion fic?

maybe something where mc was out for a while because she had a thief match at another school and she comes back to her dorm to find beckett there?

a/n: hi winter!! tysm for requesting <333 and so sorry this came out so late i was without wifi for weeks bc i went on vacation T–T good to see u again hehe this idea was so cute !!! hope u enjoy

With the brisk air brushing Eden’s cheeks and prickling her skin, she quickens her pace across campus to her dormitory building. She’s back from traveling for an away Thief game, a match that kept her away from Penderghast for an entire week.

To say she’s exhausted is an understatement, but to say she isn’t feeling chipper would be a lie as well. It’s strange, but Eden decides she can be two things at once. She’s weary from spending ten hours on a bus with a dozen rowdy Thief players, but she’s also thrilled to be home. No hotel bed can compare to her own. No pillow is better than Beckett’s chest.

As she steps into the building, she wonders, for a moment, if he’s awake. It’s nearing three in the morning, and Beckett is nothing if not punctual with his sleep schedule. In any case, she’ll see him tomorrow, but the excitement from winning Penderghast its sixth championship title is dazing and all she wants to do is see him.

Eden reaches the door to her dorm with a sigh. Maybe Atlas is awake… The haze quickly clears up as she passes through the transparent blue door to the living room. In contrast to what Eden expected, the room is brightly lit, and a cup of tea sits on the coffee table, accompanied by several thick tomes and a pair of reading glasses.

Evidently, those are traces of Beckett, and Eden finds herself feeling giddy.

The sound of rushing water ceases as her bedroom door swings open. Beckett pokes his head out, a winning smile on his face as he glides across the room to greet her. Even during the late hours of night he’s handsome. Hair ruffled, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“I thought I heard you come in. Welcome home, my love,” Beckett says. He cups Eden’s cheeks and plants a soft kiss on her lips.

“I can’t believe you waited for me…” Eden murmurs, melting into his touch. His hands are warm on her chilly skin, like a thick wool blanket on a winter day. It’s a blessed reprieve from the brisk, night air lingering on her skin.

A wave of fatigue washes over Eden, and her eyes flutter shut as Beckett peppers her face with kisses. She could fall asleep like this, standing with her face cupped in his hands.

“Of course I did,” he says, voice soft and low, “Come, the bath is ready.”

Eden hums in response, letting him guide her into the bathroom. Her dormitory bathroom isn’t fancy by any means, but Beckett wouldn’t be Beckett if he couldn’t find a way to spruce up the crummiest of spaces to offer Eden the best of the best. Multicolored globes of light gently bob about the room while heat rises from the bath. A mixture of chamomile and jasmine permeates the air, further clouding Eden’s mind with sleep.

She’s sluggish in removing her clothes, so much so that Beckett lends a hand. He helps her out of her sweats and undergarments, taking care to steady her so she doesn’t tumble into the bath. Eden settles in, using her forearms as a pillow for her face as she rests on the edge of the bathtub.

“I might fall asleep,” Eden says, glancing at Beckett as he takes a seat beside her.

He leans down to card his fingers through her hair. “You can sleep. I’ll wash you and take you to bed.”

“Thank you. Really. You didn’t have to wait for me, you know. Not worth it to mess up your sleep just to—”

“You’re worth everything, Eden. I’m happy to do this for you, truly. You haven’t a clue how happy I am to have you back, my love”—he drops his voice a tad, his tone teasing— “my little Thief champion. Congratulations. Let’s celebrate tomorrow when you’ve had plenty of rest.”

Eden relents with a small sigh, her eyelids growing heavy. She reaches for Beckett’s palm, pressing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I love you.”

Beckett smiles. He kisses her forehead. “I love you most.”

#choices #playchoices #the elementalists #beckett harrington #choices stories you play #request

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bugscreating · 8 months

Text

Now I have been encouraged so, guess I will add more head cannons. Also sorry it took a while. I was busy all day

He just has such good vibes for loving flowers

- Saiki is very strong and was able to dig up and get the space for his garden prepared in a matter of seconds, but he decided to do it by hand so it wouldn’t be suspicious to the neighbors (really he wanted to feel like he worked hard for it) and it took him forever

-in general he does all maintenance and replanting or pulling out weeds by hand. He wants his garden to feel special

-While preparing the space for his garden, he got his first splinter and was near tears as he went to his mom and while she pulled it out

- After Kurumi got the splinter out she made cookies and they ate fresh baked cookies while watching a show together

-Saiki is super hesitant when one of the times Kurumi invites his friends in, she suggests showing them his garden

-Saiki tries his hardest to prevent them looking, but eventually they all end up in the backyard

-His friends are stunned because it’s perfect, no space is wasted, but it’s not over crowded. It’s better then most greenhouses and most professional landscapers

-Saiki quickly rushes them back inside

-One of the times that Nendou is trying to find something to do, Saiki is working in his garden. Kurumi lets him in and Nendou immediately pulls his sleeves up and drops to his knees next to Saiki before asking how to help

-Saiki was weeding, so there’s a pile of weeds next to him. Nendou grabs a random flower and asks “We’re pulling everything out?”

-Saiki nearly has a heart attack as he stops Nendou and shows him what to pull up and what to leave. Showing him to shake the roots to leave as much dirt behind as possible

-They fall into silence and When Saiki looks over Nendou has cleared a section of all the weeds without damaging any of the plants or pulling up anything he wasn’t supposed to

- Nendou also got all the roots of the weeds, something Saiki struggled with because he wasn’t sure the correct amount of strength to use

- Saiki is impressed and starts asking for Nendous help with more delicate or complex tasks

-Whenever Nendou is around and Saiki find or sees a bug, Nendou with gently scoop the little guy up and place them as far from Saiki as possible while not removing them from the garden

-Nendou killing the cockroaches in Saiki’s kitchen scarred Saiki and the first time Saiki found a bug around Nendou he took several minutes to explain to Nendou that the bug hadn’t done anything wrong other than wander into the wrong space and it shouldn’t die for that

-After all his research Saiki is slightly less terrified of bugs, so as long as they keep a good distance of Saiki can’t see them, he doesn’t care (or tries really hard not to care

-the first couple times he sees a bug he teleports away from his garden and doesn’t go back until the next day

-Slowly he works his way up and he starts to teleport away and then teleports back to the opposite side of the garden

-One time that Saiki teleports to the other side of the garden he teleports next to a different bug

-Saiki runs for his life. As Nendou starts to help with his garden more Saiki has to stop teleporting and instead just runs from bugs

-Somedays that Saiki doesn’t invite over Nendou, Nendou will still show up and catch bugs, watch them and then release them. Saiki insists upon not harassing them and releasing them

-this actually sparks Nendou into getting/ creating some kind of bug farm (I want to say an ant farm, but that feels to basic and I can’t imagine Nendou catching a lot of ants in Saiki’s garden. So probably some type of beetle?)

-after being shown the garden his friends are fascinated and one time Chiyo is helping organize a tea party or something for one of the girls she helps (look at my other head cannons where I mention that I have always thought it would be cool if Chiyo worked in one of those big sister programs) and the location reservation falls through last minute

- So she asks Saiki if they could set up a tea party in his backyard

-Saiki ‘knows’ his mom will find out and be upset if he doesn’t help so he agrees

-Saiki talks to his mom and gets permission. The day of Chiyo and some of the other big sisters show up and they help set up the decorations they brought and the tables

-Kurumi got some stuff for it to help out and so Saiki sets that stuff up and pulls out some of his own decorations thinking that he’s only doing it because his mom will be sad if he doesn’t help

-then Saiki spends the rest of the day helping with messes and keeping food and drink stocked, he tells himself it’s because he’s watching his garden, making sure no one messes it to ruins any of the flowers

- A bouquet shows up in the pile of presents and the girl loves it, it’s one of her favorite presents (which she didn’t get that many, there’s a present from all the big sisters, one from Kurumi, and then two or three more that the rest of the girls bought together, along with two presents from the girls only friends from school)

-One of the girls starts wondering about the garden and commenting how long it would take to make, all the girls are under the impression that it was Kurumi’s garden after she introduced herself and encouraged them to look at the garden

-Chiyo encourages them to ask Saiki, and they ask why and she explains how it’s his garden

-Later in the night one of the girls asks Saiki if she can take a flower home with her to press and preserve for a keepsake

-Saiki gives permission for everyone to bring home one flower

-As they are looking at the flowers they realize that they flowers in the bouquet are all types in the garden

-Some of the girls tease the birthday girl saying Saiki must have a crush on her

-Chiyo can’t stop the snort and kindly explains that Saiki basically runs from romance but then explains how kind he is

-This whole time Saiki is kindly helping people, explaining flowers and facts about them. Suggesting flowers that will go nicely with outfits so the girls can put them behind their ears. Saiki helps a girl who scraps her knee by lifting her up and placing her on the edge of the deck while he grabs a first aid kit and then cleans and bandages it

-Saiki is to focused on making sure no harm comes to his garden that he doesn’t realize until too late that a ton of the girls an big sisters have crushes on him

- he’s attractive and covered in flowers with a braid falling over his shoulders while wearing a nice sweater, and he’s shown he’s strong and he’s helpful and quiet. But he’s also super passionate and extremely kind. Willing to let a ton of strangers into a space he clearly loves and then gives a gift to a girl he has never meet

- he just seems perfect to them

-Also I imagine that he never gifts friends flowers so on graduation when he gifts all his friends with bouquets he made they all start sobbing at how sweet the gesture is

Anyway I guess I should stop here before I get too carried away

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yearningaces · 4 months

Text

You understand the idea of being nice to the house, because it will be nice back, this is good!

"Buddy, home, house of mine, I love you and I will polish every doorknob I can find in the morning if you help me out."

Did you feel a bit ridiculous? Absolutely. You've never spoken to an inanimate object, like a house with the genuine assumption it would listen, not like this at least, but this house was strange and wonderful at the same time. It often helped you somehow or another, so why not give it a shot?

"Please, I hear her singing every night and anytime I step out of the room it's gone and she's silent- I just want to meet who this lady is!"

You were standing in the master bedroom, staring at the ceiling as if something was there to look at. Your attention is drawn to the bedsheets slowly pulling themselves back, clearing a space for you in the bed.

With slight shock, you laid in bed and tucked yourself in. Taking the response as the house saying either 'go to sleep.' Or, 'go to sleep, for now.' You supposed you could only know when you wake.

You do wake, it's dark out, pitch black. But your blankets have removed themselves and it's freezing. With a shiver you get out of the bed to grab for your robe, only to see the door to your bedroom wide open, and to hear the soft song somewhere deeper in the house.

You hesitate for a moment. It's still nothing normal, but nothing here has harmed you so far, and the house seems to like you...

So, you go. Stepping into the hall silently and seeing a few candles lit along the candleholders fixed to the wall. Forming a trail for you to follow, you can only assume.

Following the candles, you can hear the soft singing growing louder, yet still quieter than a whisper. And you see her.

Standing at the stairs banister, peering over the edge, singing so so softly.

Her hair is tied up, nice and tidy, a long dark skirt and a light colored top with what looks like flowers embroidered into the fabric. And blood. A trail of blood surrounding multiple holes in the back of her shirt. Dark and stark against the otherwise clean and bright fabric.

And before you can blink she's looking at you.

"Oh-" your body lurches back automatically. There's a single trail of fresh blood from the corner of her mouth down her chin.

Yet she's smiling, calm, content. When she opens her mouth to speak, it sounds like she's talking from a room away. "So you've sought me, so you've found me."

You nod your head after a moment. "Yeah... I hope you don't mind?"

A shake of her head before she looks down with a more bittersweet smile. "It's been a time since the living have sought me."

You don't know what to make of her words...

"May I ask..." How do you ask this question?

However, she looks up with a knowing eye. "Your partner looks an awful lot like my husband did."

At that you shift uncertainly. "Sage?"

"Is that their name?" She seems contemplative. Her smile dropping slightly. Her very form flickers between something translucent and not there at all before she settles again with a closed eye smile. "Be cautious. Even those we believe love us are capable of much should our backs be turned." Her voice is so... Downcast. A bitter acceptance of something.

"You're speaking from experience?" *You question in a gentler tone, stepping closer.

She nods, turning to place her hands on the Banister. "I was like you, happy, in love. We moved here, my husband and I. Johnny was never a mean man, understand. But between his family and myself and his job we had very little time together. So I was often here alone."

Her head... Twitches. As if the physicality isn't all there before it looks calm again. "That's when I met the little boy." Her smile is so sweet, so fond.

"The boy?" You question, you've heard child's laughter before in different parts of the house, footsteps running around, always away from you, never to.

But she brightens at the mention of him. "Oh, yes, you know of him. He had lived here a long time ago. And I was always something of a motherly figure. I suppose we grew attached to one another. A young woman yearning for her own children, and a little boy in need of a mother." She looks so so happy at the words she's saying. But after a moment of joy her expression -and the candles- dim.

"Of course, Johnny never saw him. Thought I was imagining my own child since we couldn't seem to have any of our own... After an argument about that exact topic, a far louder one than normal, we were in the kitchen, I'd turned to leave and... My back was exposed."

She doesn't say anything more. Her eyes teary, the color morphing between a dark red and a pure clear tear.

You take a step forward, uncertain if you can reach out to a ghost but settle on being there. "He's gone now. Right? You're free of him, and that little boy is still here, too- and he cares for you it sounds like. You're not alone here... If you'd let me, I'd care about you too. I'd like to be your friend."

She looks up to you, a soft smile on her almost translucent face, but her form solidifies just slightly. "I would like that."

She takes a moment to collect herself, wiping away any tears, brushing imaginary dust off of her skirt before she looks back to you with a smile.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

#letters of yearning #x reader #ghost x reader #you can ask her questions now!#Your House

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

A Losing Hand, Part 20

Summary: Nick pushes you too far. The birth of baby Barber

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, PIV sex, pregnancy sex, creampie, TW sexual harassment, mentions of branding, mentions of tongue removal, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.9K

Series Masterlist

Sitting up in the bed, you grip your overly stretched belly. Running your fingers over the swell, moaning in discomfort. Just like you knew he would, Andy sitting up with you. His hand moving over your body, and those dark blue eyes gazing into your own. “Daisy, what’s wrong?”

“He’s running out of space,” you whine. Trying to change positions, but that big tummy gets in your way. “Andy, why did you make such a big baby. He won’t come out. He’s not gonna fit.”

“Bruce said he was fine, and if he wasn’t, that he would induce you,” your head leans back, sighing at how discontent you are. “What?”

“I want raspberry cheesecake,” Andy pops his tongue, shaking his head at how ridiculous you’re being. “And I want to hear you play the piano.”

“Ozzie, your mother is a bit needy son. But seeing how you will be needy when you arrive, I better baby her right now, don’t cha think? Come on,” he quickly gets of the bed, just so he can help you up.

Giving you a little chuckle when you start to waddle. If he didn’t think it was cute, and made sure to tell you, you’d be offended. He drops you off in the formal dining room with the piano, jogging off to get you a slice of cheesecake to share, upon returning, you give him the first bite before sitting to just listen to him play. His fingers move effortlessly across the keys, a skill his mother made sure he had. This softer side of Andy one of your favorites. Not many knew, not that he cared. But you loved that this was just for you. Caressing over your stomach, you think how it’s for your son as well.

Finishing up the cheesecake, you move to block Andy from the piano. Your body directly in front of him, and he tilts his head, to look up at you, “Daze, what’re you doing?”

“You’re going to be the best daddy,” his eyes flutter, seeing them go misty, you go to cup his cheek. “I want our son to be just like you.”

“I want him to be like you. Hidden strength, kindness, forgiving.”

“Stop it,” you tell him playfully. Leaning a bit more onto the keys, your ass making a horrible diddy. “Andy, I know we had a rough go at first. But I do love you. I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“This,” you finger moves between him and you before laying your hand on your belly, “this requires forgiveness.”

Andy stands up, as close to you as Ozzie’s temporary home will allow. His thick hands softly grazing up and down your sides, his eyes blown wide with lust, mirroring your own. “You know,” you stutter out as his head turns to the side, ghosting his lips over the column of you neck.

“What were you gonna say?” he asks. Flattening his tongue, he licks up your heated skin, blowing a draft of cold air over the wetted area.

“I know what can induce labor?”

“What’s that, Daisy?” Andy gives your neck a little nibble, pushing apart your legs, to place himself in between them. Your hand immediately palming over the bulge in his sweatpants, “Daisy, what induces labor?”

“Andy, I want you to fuck me,” he sets the lid down on the piano. “Baby, not here.”

“Yep, I’ll have my wife wherever the fuck I want,” lifting your body up onto the piano. The wrap nightgown, becoming abundantly clear as to why it’s his favorite, when he pulls it open, leaving you vulnerable and naked. His hand smooths over your slit, while he lets his sweatpants drift to the floor. A knee crashes to the keys, and creates the most beautiful symphony as he pushes into your warmth.

Nothing too fast just a slow and determined thrust. His hands rubbing over your stomach as he creates a steady and deep pace. Thumb stimulating your clit, and it doesn’t take much, causing him to quit with his thumb, “You’re so sensitive, Dais. I don’t want you to cum to fast, sweetheart.”

Watching you as your body writhes around with pleasure. Unable to look at him because you’re so pleasured. “Relax. I’m giving you a massage,” he chuckles at you. Your hands move to your tits, groping and tweaking your nipples. “There ya go. We gotta do what we gotta do to to push you into labor, don’t we?”

“Yeah, we do. Gotta do whatever it takes.”

“Shh, you’re getting worked up again. I haven’t got to feel you long enough.”

Andy’s face gazes at you, wishing there wasn’t so much separating him from you, until he remembers who that someone is. Can almost imagine coming home to you with his baby in your arms. The thing he’s always dreamed of almost here.

“Andy…Andy,” your voice pants when he starts rutting into you. Becoming a mess right underneath him. Seeing Andy become animalistic suddenly, sets your body fire.

“Oh god, Andy!” you scream as you cum hard over him. Gripping tight to his forearms, while he continues his mission.

“Almost there,” he grunts, sweat beading around the perimeter of his face, and you have never seen him look more handsome. Throwing his head back, he growls, as his orgasm rushes through him. His thick cream coating your walls, and you sigh in relief.

“You look beautiful like that.”

Andy gives you a big wide grin, breath still staggered as he gulps for more air, “That’s the first time a woman has ever called me beautiful.”

“Get used to it. Because I’m no woman, I’m your Queen, and the mother of your son.”

“Our son.”

“No,” you whine at Bucky after he tells you that they have to go on a quick ‘thing’. And it pisses you off you’re being left with Nick. A thing. Just a thing. Even Andy told you not to worry your pretty little head.

“Just call if anything weird happens, go into labor, whatever. I’ll bring him right back. He’s got some loose ends to tie up, and then he’s done for at least a month.”

You know how childish you sound. But dammit, you don’t want Nick. “You’ll be fine. Winter is down for nap,” which only further irritates you. Nick isn’t as bad when Winter is there. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Go on leave. Leave me here in my tower.”

“Daaaaaiiiisy,” Bucky draws out your nickname, he’s the only one who you can fully pout with. “If there is something wrong, we’ll listen. But you’ve got to tell us,” when the feet of Nick’s create shadows under your door, you know it’s time to quit.

“We’ll be fine. Just go. Hurry up.”

Bucky leaves, making Nick sling your door open, walking over to open the curtains to your bedroom, and you walk out leaving him. He can stay here all he wants. Going to the kitchen to prepare you and Winter a snack, but those stupid feet follow you.

You have a new tactic, just ignore him. Going to slice up some apples, but Nick walks too close behind you. Leaning on the counter, just in your peripheral vision. That arrogant smirk planted on him. “What do you want?”

“I am here to watch you, can’t I do my job?”

You roll your eyes, the careful cuts now turning into angry chops. Nick’s eyes look up and down your body, and he slides his hand over to you on the counter. Removing it just to rub on your belly. “You know, Andy used to always share what was his,” you drop the knife to the counter, and his body moves behind you. His hands going around your stomach. Flowing down until he’s cupping the bottom. You know you’re struggling to find air, but get so much relief when he lifts your belly up. Holding Ozzie’s weight in his hands. And for a moment you forget who is behind you. Laying your head back on his shoulder, and you take a deep inhale.

“You do know how to behave,” your body stiffens back up, and you look around for an escape. “Doesn’t appear to have worked.”

“What?” you ask looking at the knife, but Nick just side steps it out of your reach.

“He didn’t fuck you hard enough. I would have had you bent over in the kitchen, or even had you riding my cock. You did look really pretty on that piano. It’s kinda poetic because wasn’t that the first place Andy tasted you? Had you laid back while he feasted on that virgin cunt?”

“Nick, let me go.”

“Why? You know these conversations are for you and me. I know you’ve been keeping them secret.”

“Let me go.”

You stiffen up further when he sniffs up your neck, “You’re getting closer. Even your scent is changing,” you look for anything to grab, just wanting to get away from him.

“You telling me Bucky hasn’t tried to fuck you after seeing you with his daughter? He is such a sap and sucker for that shit. Or Steve? I bet him and Andy take turns with you don’t they? Or is it Sam? You like that big thick cock? Would he get your ass or your pussy? I had hoped you’d given me a taste by now. How about today is the day?” he presses an open mouth kiss on your neck, and you elbow him in the gut. His hands dropping your stomach immediately and you cry out as the weight crashes back down.

Seeing stars as you try to get away from him. His body rushing towards you, but you trip over your feet, crashing to the floor, and you scream out as pain lights up your body. “Stay away!” holding your stomach you begin crawling away. Putting as much distance between you and Nick as possible, leaving a trail of pink blood, and liquid.

“No,” you scream. Gripping tighter to your belly. Screaming for anyone that could hear you in the compound.

August comes rushing around the corner. Looking between you and Nick. Scooping you up bridal style, glaring at him, “Fucking call Andy you dumb idiot!”

Nick struggles to get his phone, when you look up at your savior, “He can’t be alone with her.”

“Who?”

“You know who. August, he can’t be alone.”

“Then you better start talking fast about what Nick did. I’ve got to get you to the infirmary,” his feet take you in the wrong direction. Further away from Winter than you desire.

“August. Get. Her. First,” your teeth clench, as another contraction runs through your body. Feeling dizzy with how quickly things transpired, but you need to know she’s safe.

“Dammit,” walking towards the rooms, he passes Luke, “Get Bruce to ready the infirmary. I’ve got to pick up our little secret.”

Luke doesn’t respond just starts off at a quick pace to get Bruce. “Could he not have got her?”

“She thinks you don’t know about her. She’ll need to see me.”

The poor girl gets a scare of her lifetime, Shadow and Aspen, too as they shoot up off the bed, “Daisy, I thought you forgot about us. Shadow slept so good in here. Oh! Is the prince coming?”

“Yeah,” sweat lines your brows as you try not to show how bad the pain is getting. “August hurry. Princess, I need you to follow us. Come on girls.”

August going as fast as he can to Bruce who is already setting things up. Pointing at the bed, for him to lay you down. “Uh, so we’re going to quit pretending that Bucky has a kid then?” Winter gives him a cute little wave. Both dogs flanking her.

“Has someone called Andy?”

“Already did, my Queen,” Luke brings over some water for you to drink, “they’re on their way, okay? He’s not going to wait on his daddy, so don’t think you can stop this labor. My wife couldn’t,” you offer him the best smile you can give him. “Walker, the girl and dogs need to go. They’re on their way. Bucky’s driving, so they’ll be here shortly.”

You wait until he leaves with her, before you grit down, using Luke’s hand to squeeze, but he just gives you words of affirmation while Bruce checks you. “Well, the good thing is, everything is okay.”

“The bad thing?” Luke asks for you, as you try and count your breaths through the contraction.

“I don’t know what happened, but this is going quick. Dais, you stressed?”

“Gimme the epidural!”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” What?” Luke and you shout at him.

“You’re too far along,” you collapse on the bed begging for Andy. And both men try and calm you. “Daisy, what happened?”

“I fell,” you cry up at him. Gripping to Luke’s hand again. “Where’s Andy? I can’t have his baby if he’s here.”

“Ozzie isn’t going to wait.”

Andy rushes through the compound ignoring everyone until he barrels through the doors. Luke holds onto your hand while Bruce is shouting for you to push. “Andy!” you cry out, and he rushes to you. Pushing his lips up your forehead for a bruising kiss. “I couldn’t stop him,” you’re unsure if you’re talking about Ozzie or Nick at this point. The latter hadn’t been seen since you were brought down here.

“Come on, one more time, Dais, and we got us a Prince.”

Holding tight to Andy and Luke, you give your final push, and feel his body glide out. His cry goes straight to your heart and you were not sure how you could love him anymore than you did Winter, but it’s like a shot to your heart. Placing him on your chest you sob, not wanting to tear your eyes from him. “Andy he’s perfect.”

Andy gives a soft look to you fast asleep, his son still in his arms, when he sees his main players hanging out in the foyer. All except Nick. Winter snuggled up against Bucky’s chest, while both dogs are in the middle of the floor, “Shadow, Daisy,” the dog stands to walk into your room, where she lays down.

“Where Nick?” Andy asks looking amongst the men. No one chooses to answer, and he has to look down at his son, to calm himself. “Walker, what happened?”

“All I heard was screaming. I thought I first heard Nick grunt, and then the screaming got more intense.”

“What do you mean?”

The man looks up at Andy afraid of how he’s going to take this, “It went from being scared to being in pain. When I got there he was just staring at her. I had to get Winter, because she didn’t want him alone with her.”

“She said she fell,” Luke looks up at Andy shaking his head, “Man, I know he’s family.”

“The people in this room, and my wife are my family. What do you know?” Andy’s eyes fill with angry tears as he thinks back on all the times you begged him not to keep Nick with you.

“She might have fallen, but…you know my suspicions with him. He’s too handsey with her. Too close, and she’s tense. Walker was holding her, and she was leaned up against him. She leans away from Nick. Bruce had his hands up her vagina, I stayed with her the whole time, she’s fallen asleep on Bucky. Shang has carried her when she falls asleep in the living rim waiting for you. Sam gave her piggyback rides and laid in the bed with her when you were late. And hell, Steve helped her get dressed when you weren’t here, and the belly was in the way, why is Nick the problem?”

“She,” Andy’s face turns in disgust knowing just how you don’t have an issue with anyone but Nick. “She hasn’t said anything.”

“Andy,” Bucky says calmly, “she’s begged you not to leave him to guard her every time. That’s not an accident.”

“Pull the cameras from today. Wherever she was I want to see. And I’ll trap that mother fucker.”

Steve starts to shake his head no, “You’re putting her and the kids at risk.”

“I want him branded as a fucking traitor. I’ll have his skin so fucking scorched with a Spades brand, he won’t be recognizable. I want his lying ass tongue out of his goddamn mouth. She won’t ever fully be alone with Nick, does everyone understand? Someone will always be left behind. He will be trapped.”

“You should be celebrating,” Shang holds up a cigar. Even though the conversation doesn’t call for a celebration, the baby in Andy’s arms does. His head thrashes around, and he lets out a little whimper.

“Andy?” you whisper hearing your son wake. “Andy? Andy!?”

“Hey, hey,” he rushes in, a realization he needed. He isn’t sure what happened. But he knows Nick is the cause of it. Hearing your fear at him and the baby not being there, he hands over your son, who nuzzles around to latch on. “I’m here Daisy.”

Thinking you might not want to have the players in the room, he turns to send them away, “Andy, I want them to meet our son,” his head bows towards you, holding his hand out to invite everyone in.

“Everybody, I want you to meet, Ozul Andrew Barber, the Prince of Spades.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @missacidburn928 @sstan-hoe @whimsyplaty92 @connie326 @agirlneedsgoals @toozmanykids @thedarknessilove

#a losing hand #a losing hand au #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x daisy #ozul andrew barber #mafia au #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x winter barnes #nick vaughan #chris evans #chris evans character #andy barber fanfiction

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indeedcaptain · 7 months

Text

Spirktober 2023, day 22: Mind Control

Hello everyone! I hope you're having a lovely day. Here's my entry for day 22 because I'm behind again because I started my absolute DREAM JOB on monday. I'm having a wonderful time but it has cut down significantly on my fan fic writing time lol

Also posted on AO3 here!

Archive Warnings: Nobody makes Spock do anything he doesn't want to - there's one miscommunication about that but it's quickly handled - but if the idea of possession or mind control squicks you, maybe stay away just to be safe.

☆☆☆

The planet’s scans had shown that there were supposedly no carbon-based life forms on the surface and that it should have been safe for Kirk, Spock, and the science team to beam down, take some readings, and go home.

Of course, Kirk thought, as a thick smog descended from nowhere and reduced both his vision and his cardiovascular capacity to near zero, those scans assumed that the life-forms on this planet were carbon-based, or that this was a life-form at all. It could simply have been an unlucky weather occurrence for which they were not prepared. But as his vision swam and oxygen deprivation squeezed his chest, he heard Spock cry out, “Not the humans!”

The smog whirled into a tornado shape and funneled itself into Spock. He collapsed. Kirk, as he caught his breath again in the suddenly clear air, scrambled to him across the grassy clearing as the other scientists scanned him rapidly.

Kirk dropped to his knees next to his first officer, shaking his shoulder. Spock was warm and solid beneath his hand, and his chest rose and fell. He looked up at the scientists he had brought to the planet, who looked just as confused as he was.

“There’s nothing on the scans, sir,” one of them said. “I’m not getting readings on anything that we just saw.” She raised her tricorder again.

Spock opened his eyes, and Kirk’s stomach dropped. Spock’s irises, normally a deep earthy brown, were a pale seafoam color that reminded him of the ocean. He stood immediately, putting distance between himself and those eyes.

“Whoever or whatever you are, remove yourself from my science officer,” he said. “Now.”

Spock’s unsettling, incorrect eyes turned to him, glancing over him, before Spock sat up and observed the rest of their landing party.

“You are… human?” Spock’s voice was wrong. It was light, higher and gentler than Kirk had ever heard it, almost feminine in its cadence and rhythm. “And what is he?” Spock ran a finger over his own ear, following its pointed path.

“Yes, we’re human. He is a Vulcan. And who are you?” Kirk crossed his arms over his chest.

“A Vulcan!” Spock’s voice contained more enthusiasm in two words than Kirk had heard him express in two months. “I see. Yes, I see now.” Spock stood. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, arms swinging wildly as he levered himself to his feet. “Oh, he’s tall!”

“Who are you?” Kirk repeated. The scientists watched their department head with mixed expressions of horror and intrigue. Spock turned those strange sea-foam eyes on them in turn.

“I’m the companion,” Spock--- the companion--- said. “I live here. Who are you?”

“I’m Captain James Kirk, of the USS Enterprise. This is my science team. You are currently residing in my first officer, Spock of Vulcan. We didn’t…” He licked his lips and paused. “We did not realize this planet was occupied. If we had, we would have announced our intention before arrival. We were hoping to study the plant life on the surface---.”

“Sure, sure, fine,” the companion in Spock interrupted. “You came here on a starship?”

“Yes,” Kirk said.

“I want to see it.”

He blinked. “You want… to see our starship?”

“Yes!” Could Spock hear his own voice, wherever he was? Kirk hadn’t previously thought that level of enthusiasm was possible from his vocal cords. “Very much so. I have seen you fly through space before and I’ve always wondered what it was like.”

“We have never been out this far before,” one of the scientists said quietly.

The companion waved one of Spock’s hands carelessly. “Not you. Others. The ones who came before.” Ignoring the tittering that comment caused among the scientists, Spock and those strange eyes turned back to Kirk.

“Release our Mr. Spock, and you can see the starship,” Kirk said.

Spock sighed sadly, his eyebrows pulling together in the middle. God, it was so strange to see someone else pilot Spock’s body. It was so incorrect. “I can’t leave the planet unless I accompany someone else. I don’t have form the way you do.”

“Are you harming Mr. Spock?”

“Oh, no,” the companion said, pulling Spock’s mouth into a smile. “But it was fortunate that he realized what I wanted before I did any accidental damage to you. Telepath to telepath is much easier than telepath to not.”

“And when you’ve looked your fill, you’ll leave his body and return him unharmed?”

“Oh, yes,” the companion said. She flexed Spock’s hands. “His mind is accustomed to psychic connection. I’m not hurting him. He is with me now, watching, though I am the navigator.”

“Is there any way for us to remove you from Mr. Spock if you decide not to hold up your end of the bargain?”

Spock bared his teeth, and those seaglass eyes flashed in the light. The planet itself rumbled beneath their feet in an instantaneous earthquake. “If you try to remove me before I get to see your starship, I will wipe him from his own mind and take both his body and your ship by force.”

Kirk felt the blood drain from his face. The affable, easy tone had vanished in the space of a heartbeat, and he had no doubt that the companion could do as she said, given how easily she had taken Spock hostage in the first place.

“There’s no need for that,” he said.

“No,” the companion agreed. “So I can see your ship?”

Kirk looked at the scientists, none of whom gave any indication that they had any other ideas, before pulling out his comm. He flipped it open.

“Six to beam up. Spock is going to act oddly. Do not get security involved.”

“Aye, captain,” Scotty’s voice said. “Odd how?”

“You’ll see,” Kirk said. “Energize.”

☆☆☆

Kirk, the companion in Spock’s body, and the four scientists materialized on the transporter pad. Spock gasped, and shook himself like a wet dog.

“Oh, I did not enjoy that sensation! Every atom of this body feels shaken!” The companion’s voice was sweetly indignant, still high and feminine, and Scotty’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the sound. The companion turned Spock’s newly green eyes on Scotty, who blanched at the sight.

“Who are you?” the companion asked.

“Montgomery Scott, at your service,” the engineer said nervously. “And who might you be?”

“I am the companion,” Spock’s mouth said. He cocked his head, as if he were listening to something. “Oh,” he said. He approached Scotty where he stood behind the transporter controls and loomed over him, entirely ignoring the boundaries of personal space. Scotty, to his credit, only quavered a little bit.

“I feel… admiration? Is that what this is? Mr. Spock thinks you’re very smart,” the companion said with Spock’s mouth, not a trace of Spock’s stoicism present. His whole body seemed to have been loosened, like an untuned guitar string. With a quick half-smile, the companion turned back to Kirk, arms swinging with the motion. Scotty stared after him, flabbergasted.

The companion clapped Spock’s hands in delight. “Show me everything!”

☆☆☆

The turbolift opened, and Sulu called, “Captain on the bridge.” Kirk and the companion stepped out.

“We have a guest,” Kirk said. “Mr. Spock is… not present. This is the companion.” He gestured to Spock, who stared curiously at each of the bridge crew in turn. Uhura covered her mouth with her hand when he turned his seafoam eyes on her. The companion approached her first, again standing entirely too close. Uhura had to tilt her head back to see his face, and the companion peered back at her.

“Are you all human?” the companion asked.

“Everyone except Mr. Spock,” Uhura said softly.

“You’re all such different colors and sizes. I never would have guessed you were all the same species,” the companion said in delight. “Are you and Spock of Vulcan friends?”

“Yes,” Uhura said. She leaned back against her console to allow the companion to continue her investigation of the bridge, but the companion stepped further into her space and ran one of Spock’s hands affectionately over Uhura’s hair. Spock’s eyes were wide as he beheld her.

“I feel his affection when I look at you,” the companion said. “But it feels… oh, it tingles in the brain. He thinks of you in his native tongue, not this language.”

“I’m the communications officer,” Uhura said faintly. “We speak Vulcan together.”

“Wonderful,” the companion breathed. “Just wonderful.” The companion wandered to the science station before hovering behind Sulu and Chekov, staring over their shoulders at their panels.

“Does Spock of Vulcan know very many things?” The companion turned Spock’s body to look back at Kirk. He nodded.

“Spock is our science officer. He is knowledgeable about a great many things.”

“I’m so glad to share his mind. He shares his context with me as I see things,” the companion said. “Though I am surprised that he is your science person. The last Vulcans I met were warriors first and everything else second.”

Kirk frowned. “You’ve met Vulcans before? And they were warriors?”

“Oh, yes,” the companion said. She ran Spock’s hand over Sulu’s hair, twisting a few of the silky black strands between two fingers. “When I was very young, I was carried by my parents through space. We encountered a ferocious and warlike people on a desert planet very far away, and discovered that they had the capacity to commune with us through their telepathy.”

“Pre-Surakian Vulcan, captain,” Uhura murmured, and he nodded.

“Does your Vulcan still fight? He feels strong.”

“Yes,” Kirk said, and watched as the companion stepped away from the navigation console and experimentally bent Spock’s knees and elbows.

“I would like to see the rest of your spaceship now, captain,” the companion said. Kirk gestured Spock’s body into the turbolift ahead of him.

“Sulu, you have the conn until further notice. I’ll be… well, I suppose we’ll be wherever the companion wants to see next.”

☆☆☆

The companion, for whatever reason, adored Scotty, and he was happy enough to lead her through the engine room. Kirk trailed after them, watching Scotty gesture to each part of the engine, and Spock pointed to different parts like a child and asked questions. The companion seemed to be keeping her word: Spock’s body did not seem to be under duress. If it weren’t for the uncanny eyes and the distinctly un-Spock-like body language, he would almost think that nothing was wrong.

“What is this?” Spock asked, sticking his head into a Jeffries tube. “Oh, can I climb it?”

“If you like,” Scotty said. “They just go to the different levels of the ship. Climb away.” Spock jumped and grabbed the overhead rung leading up, ignoring the ladder below.

“Oh,” the companion said, her tone full of wonder. “He’s so strong!” Spock did a chin-up to the bar, and the companion’s laughter burbled out of his throat. Spock vanished up into the tube, climbing higher until the laughter had died away and Kirk and Scotty could just hear the clang of clumsy footsteps against the rungs.

“What the devil, captain?” Scotty said, leaning closer to him.

“I have no idea. She promised not to harm him, and he seems… fine. She also said if we tried to force her out she would destroy him. So I figure that she could see the ship and then we’ll send her home.”

“Aye, captain,” Scotty said, peering up into the tube. “I would say that I think we had broken the prime directive on that planet if I weren’t harboring the suspicion that her people invented space travel.”

“She’s over two thousand years old, Scotty,” Kirk murmured back. “She remembers pre-Surak Vulcan.”

“Aye?” Scotty looked at him in surprise. “She moves great for her age.” The footsteps and clanging grew louder until Spock dropped back out of the Jeffries tube, face flushed.

“You can climb everywhere!”

“Aye,” Scotty said. “Useful for my engineers, needing to get to different points on the ship.”

“I see,” the companion said. “I can feel in this body that he is not so different from the Vulcans that I remember. A warrior-scholar, I think.” She stepped towards Kirk, circling him. He allowed the companion to prowl around him, feeling the brush of Spock’s shoulder against his back.

“Do we fight, captain?” Spock’s breath ghosted over his ear. He fought to keep himself from flinching.

“Yes,” Kirk said, keeping his chin high. “We spar frequently, to stay in shape.”

“I would like to spar with you,” the companion said. “Please?”

Kirk ignored the shiver from hearing Spock’s voice, even high and unfamiliar, say ‘please’ to him. “Sure thing,” he said. “I promised a full tour, didn’t I?”

☆☆☆

Kirk stood across from Spock and the companion on a sparring mat in the gym. Unsure of what to expect and trying to protect Spock’s privacy, he had cleared everyone else out of the room. Spock bounced on the balls of his feet and rolled his neck, pulling his tendons taut against his skin. He never moved like that. It was uncanny. At least from this distance the color of his eyes was less prominent.

“How does this work?”

“Spock is teaching me Suus Mahna,” Kirk said. “It’s a Vulcan martial art.” He bent his knees, trying to place his arms correctly. The companion copied him, and in the movement he saw Spock’s muscle memory take over.

“Yes,” the companion breathed. “I feel it now.” For the first time since the companion had taken possession, Spock’s body moved like it was supposed to. He struck forward, no warning, and Kirk dodged out of the way. They circled each other. As Spock’s body moved in a way that was finally, finally familiar, Kirk felt the tension he’d been carrying since that morning leak out of his shoulders. Spock was still in there, and he would be returned to them soon. Spock struck again, and they grappled, shoulders locked against each other. Kirk hooked a leg behind Spock’s knee, trying to topple him. Spock dropped and rolled, flipping Kirk over his shoulder, using his momentum against him.

In a flash Spock was on top of him, pinning his shoulders to the ground, the length of his body pressed against Kirk’s. Kirk squirmed, fighting to displace him, but he was so damn heavy. All he managed to do was get his shirt rucked up, stuck under his back, and he could feel the rough weave of Spock’s uniform against his stomach.

The companion’s curious green eyes watched his face, slowly releasing the hold on his shoulder. Kirk lay flat on the ground, breathing hard.

“Spock usually wins,” he said eventually. The companion still gazed at him, the weight of Spock’s body pressed against him. He said, “This is the part where you get off of me.”

“It is?” The companion looked confused, and brought one of Spock’s hands to Kirk’s stomach. She trailed Spock’s long fingers against his exposed hip. “I thought that---”

“Nope,” Kirk said, and squirmed harder. God, Spock’s hands on his skin felt good, just like he had imagined, but he didn’t want it like this. He didn’t want the body with the mind not present. “I don’t know what you thought, but he wouldn’t want this. You’re still a guest in his body. Please respect that.” The companion levered Spock up in a pushup, and Kirk scrambled backwards. He yanked his shirt back down and sat with his legs crossed at a safe distance.

“I am sorry, captain,” the companion said, and Spock’s face was contrite. “I am only able to follow his existing neural pathways. The line between fantasy and memory is slender.”

“Oh,” Kirk said, and his breath left him in a rush.

“He thinks of you often, captain. You are his favorite. He wants---”

Kirk held up a hand, stopping whatever words would come next. “Please don’t,” he said.

Spock’s brow furrowed. “You do not want him? But I felt it,” the companion said, and she lifted Spock’s hands. Damn telepaths.

“It’s not that,” Kirk said. “If there’s something that he wants to tell me, he can tell me. I don’t want to know if he’s not willing to share that.”

“And you have not told him how you feel either.”

“No,” Kirk said. “I haven’t.” The companion watched him for a moment longer before clambering to Spock’s feet. Kirk stood and readjusted his uniform, trying to straighten his mind back out, trying to ignore the idea that Spock might harbor the same unprofessional desires he did.

“What would you like to see next?” Kirk asked.

The companion turned to look back over Spock’s shoulder. “I would like to see ko-kai again. The communications officer.”

“Ko-kai? What is that?” Kirk led the companion back to the turbolift to return them to the bridge. The companion shrugged. The informal gesture was unnatural on Spock.

“It is how Spock of Vulcan thinks of her. Is that not her name?” The turbolift carried them back to the bridge, and as the door opened, Kirk said, “No, her name is Uhura.”

Uhura turned at the sound of her name as Sulu called, “Captain on the bridge!”

“Hello again,” Uhura said to the companion, and the companion crouched in Spock’s body next to her station.

“I think I will go back to my planet soon,” the companion said. “I have seen many things, and I will have to think on what I have observed for a time.”

“Did you have a nice time?”

“I did,” the companion said. “I wanted to see a starship, and I saw it. I don’t think I understand the people on it, though.”

“People are difficult,” Uhura agreed. “I have lived a long time, and witnessed many things. And so much of what I have seen could be avoided if people merely said what they meant, or thought, or felt.” Uhura turned to look at the companion, who petted her shoulder with Spock’s hand. “It was nice to meet you, ko-kai.”

“Oh!” Uhura stared at the companion, but Spock had already turned away.

“Take me back, captain,” the companion said, and he took them back to the turbolift.

☆☆☆

Scotty met them in the transporter room. “Leaving so soon?”

“Thank you for showing me the ship,” the companion said. “Spock of Vulcan is correct in his assessment of your intelligence.”

“Well, tha’s very kind of ye,” he said. “And of Mr. Spock, though I’ll never tell him ye said that.”

“That’s a shame,” the companion said, and stood on a transporter pad.

Kirk said, “Energize.”

The grassy planet materialized around him, and Spock at his side. His eyes were still green.

“Thank you, Captain Kirk,” the companion said. “I’m sorry for the distress I caused you. I meant no harm.”

“It’s alright,” Kirk said. “As long as you return Mr. Spock to us, we’ll call it even.” Spock cocked his head to the side.

“He’ll be with you momentarily. I think you have a lot to talk about.” Spock closed his eyes, and from his mouth gushed a font of black gas. It whirled upwards, hovering for a moment over their heads, before dissipating into the air around them.

Bye! A disembodied voice echoed in his ears before fading away, and when Spock opened his eyes they were the warm brown that Kirk had missed all day.

“Captain,” he said, and his voice was deep and inflectionless. Kirk smiled.

“Welcome back, Mr. Spock,” he said. He put his hands on his hips and took a steadying breath. “I think we should talk.”

#spock #spirk #kirk #tos #my writing #spirktober2023 #spirktober #k/s #kirk/spock #k/s fan fic #kirk/spock fan fic #mind control

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