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blackswan18 · 4 years ago

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Too Good To Be True - Ch. 19 | kth(m)

Summary: Kim Taehyung is a world famous idol in the hit K-pop group, BTS, and you are his personal stylist. Per your contract with Big Hit, he is absolutely, 100% off-limits, and yet, you are completely and hopelessly in love with him. You’ve spent years trying to shove your feelings down, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore and hide them, especially considering the way Tae always treats you. He’s affectionate and protective and sometimes outright flirtatious, but that’s how he is with everyone, right? Confused, frustrated, and lovesick, you find yourself wondering if it might finally be worth risking your career and your heart to find out.

pairing: Taehyung x reader

genre: Idol! au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, friends to lovers, slow burn

rating: 18+

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cursing

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Chapter 19: Talk To The Tatas - Part 1

You almost bailed on your date. Almost. After sobbing in the car in the parking garage for the second time in two weeks, you almost said fuck it and just drove home.

But, you didn’t. You pulled yourself together, stopped at a gas station to redo your makeup, and showed up at that restaurant.

Only Minho never came.

Worse than that, he never even called or texted to say he wasn’t coming. You messaged him a few times when you first arrived to let him know you were there, but he didn’t respond. After an hour of waiting alone at the bar, your phone finally buzzed, but it wasn’t Minho that texted you.

[Taehyung 7:56 PM] I’ve tried so hard not to text you because you’re on your date and I know I shouldn’t be bothering you, but I just needed to tell you again that I’m so incredibly sorry for everything. Hurting you and making you cry is the worst thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, but I promise I’m going to try.

[Taehyung 8:08 PM] I know I don’t have the right to ask, but could you please just let me know when you get home? I won’t be able to sleep until I know you’re safe.

On the verge of spilling fresh tears, and realizing Minho was not coming, you finally gave up and went home.

Once there you then laid in bed crying, out of embarrassment or frustration or love sickness, you didn't know, until it was late enough to pretend like you’d just gotten home from your date. You had no idea what to say to Tae, but you knew you needed to say something; he absolutely would stay up all night worrying if you didn’t. At a complete loss for words, you sent the only thing that made sense at the time.

[11:25 PM] 🏠

Not thirty seconds later he responded.

[Taehyung 11:26 PM] 💜

The purple heart was Tae’s most commonly used emoji. As the one who coined the phrase, ‘I Purple You’, he was the reason it had become a BTS symbol. He sent it all the time, and to everyone, so it had long lost its novelty, had long since made your own real heart flutter, but him sending it just now felt particularly meaningful.

Even though you were fighting, even though you’d both said hurtful things and you’d walked out on him and ignored his apology, he still cared. With that tiny, comforting thought, you finally fell asleep.

~~~

Tae didn't say anything the rest of the weekend, but you weren’t surprised, nor did you blame him. You hadn’t even sent a one word answer to his apology, you sent a one emoji answer, so he clearly thought that you wanted space. Part of you did, you were still worried he’d realized how jealous you were of Jisoo and were now also mortified for him to know you’d been stood up, but part of you wanted nothing more than text him or call him or just show up at his freaking apartment. Even though he’d hurt you, and you’d then pushed him away, he was still the person you wanted and needed most right now.

You were incredibly nervous come Monday, still unsure what to say or how to act, but it ended up not mattering. The guys had dance practice all morning and then meetings all afternoon so you didn’t actually see him once all day.

Later that afternoon you were in the studio trying and failing to focus on the words contained in the email you had just received from Mrs. Choi. For reasons you will never understand, she had picked your concept proposal for the Dynamite music video. It was a huge opportunity, one you were incredibly excited about, but it was going to mean a lot of extra work. Honestly, though, that wasn’t a bad thing. Now more than ever you needed a distraction.

Around 4:00 you stepped out to grab coffee from the café on the first floor of the building. Their macchiatos weren’t the best, but they were cheap and convenient. Your body was so addicted to them that it preemptively crashed around 3:45 PM every day in anticipation for the boost to come.

You were only gone for about fifteen minutes, but when you opened the door to the studio the room looked completely different.

Spread out all over the place, on top of chairs and the couch and the counters and the floor, were no less than twenty five Tata plushies, each one with a balloon attached to one hand and a Post-it Note stuck to the other.

Most of the balloons were birthday themed; there was a big ‘2’ and a big ‘6’, cake and champagne bottle-shaped ones, and ones of all different colors and patterns that said ‘Happy Birthday’. But, there were also some random ones including a character from your favorite anime show, a tube of lipstick, and one regular balloon that had a picture of a lady with a striking resemblance to Mrs. Choi drawn on it in permanent marker.

As you walked in and got closer to the Tatas, you realized you couldn’t read what was written on any of the Post-it Notes, not because the words were too small or too messy, but because they were all written in English.

You were standing there in the middle of the room, mouth agape, trying to wrap your head around what you were seeing, when suddenly you heard a voice, your favorite deep, husky voice, start singing behind you.

Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you Happy birthday dear Y/N Happy birthday to you

You turned around to see Tae standing in the doorway. He was holding another Tata in one hand and a small gift bag in the other. Attached to his Tata was a polka dot balloon that said ‘I’m Sorry’ on it and a Post-it Note that you guessed probably said the same. His smile was small and hesitant at first, but instantly grew when he saw that you were positively beaming.

“Tae...what is all this?” you asked in amazement as you gestured around the room.

“This is your slightly belated birthday present and very belated apology,” he said sheepishly.

You looked around the room again as a million questions ran through your mind. How had he managed to get all this stuff over the weekend? Where in the building had he been hiding all of this? How did he set everything up in only fifteen minutes?

You turned back to look at him, an amazed and wonderfully confused look on your face, to find him staring at you with his big, boxy Kim Taehyung smile.

“So, do you want your present first or do you want to talk to the Tatas first?” he asked excitedly.

“Talk to the Tatas?” you repeated with a laugh.

“All of the Tatas have a special message for you, but they only speak English so I have to translate for them,” he said matter-of-factly.

In that moment you were simply blown away by the creativity, cleverness, and uniqueness of his big, beautiful brain.

“Talk to the Tatas,” you said happily. “I definitely want to talk to the Tatas first.”

“Ok then we’ll start with this Tata right here,” he said as he gestured to the one in his hand.

“This Tata is so incredibly sorry for everything. He’s sorry that he forgot your birthday. He’s sorry for making you feel bad about your date. He’s sorry that he hasn’t been a good friend to you lately. And, he’s so, so sorry that he made you cry,” he said sincerely, looking you in the eye as he spoke.

You went to respond, but found that you couldn’t. A little lump had formed in your throat and it rendered you speechless, lest you begin sobbing.

“There’s a lot more that I have to say and explain,” he went on. “But for now I just want you to know that I am so sorry for hurting you.”

“Thanks, Tae,” you finally managed to get out. “I really appreciate you saying that.”

You gave him a small smile as you dabbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. He returned your smile, but you could see that he too had gotten a bit emotional. The two of you took a moment to breath and compose yourselves before heading off towards the next Tata.

Around the room you went ‘talking’ to all the different Tatas. Their messages were a mixture of serious and funny, heartfelt and ridiculous, but each of them was so incredibly Tae . Some of your favorites included:

You’re the best stylist ever.

I’m a jerk (who is very sorry).

YOU’RE SO OLD NOW.

Mrs. Choi smells like dead cats.

I missed you.

By the time you got to the last Tata, your stomach hurt from laughing and your heart felt light as a feather. For the first time in over a month you felt like you had your best friend back.

“What about this guy?” you asked, gesturing to the Tata sitting in Tae’s chair. He was holding one of the ‘Happy Birthday’ balloons, but he had no Post-it Note. “Where’s his note?”

“This Tata is very shy,” Tae said quietly. “He has a special message too, but he’s not ready to tell you yet.”

“Right now he just wants to say ‘Happy Birthday Y/N’,” he continued.

Despite everything that had happened over the last month, you could not stop the butterflies that began fluttering in your stomach when he said those first words.

“But anyway,” he said, breaking the little silence that had followed his previous statement. “It’s time for your present!”

At that, he handed over the gift bag he had been holding. You opened it up and carefully removed the tissue paper to reveal a small, cylindrical object at the bottom. Pulling it out and placing it in the palm of your other hand, you realized instantly what you were holding.

It was a vintage-style music box, the kind that snaps open like a clam. It was covered in an ornate gold design of the moon and stars that included tiny diamonds dotted throughout. Opening it revealed an image of the night sky on the underside of the lid and a little dancing figurine in the middle.

Your hand shook ever so slightly as you reached underneath for the winding key. After turning it a few times, you held your breath as you waited for the melody to begin.

Clare de Lune

Just like that, the lump in your throat was back. As you stood there watching the little figure twirl around, you thought for sure your heart would burst.

“I know you love this song and that it helps calm you down. I thought you could keep this with you in case you ever miss your Mom or get overwhelmed or just want a little happy moment,” he said hesitantly.

No words. You had no words. This was without a doubt the most wonderful present anyone had ever given you before. It was so thoughtful and meaningful and beautiful too. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Unable to speak, you did the only other thing you could think of to show your gratitude. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. In an instant, he was hugging you back. Your mind immediately flashed back to the last time you had hugged him, your night at the studio, only this hug was nothing like the friendly one you’d shared in the parking garage. This was an embrace, your face buried in his neck, his cheek pressed to your temple. It was warm and intimate and lasting entirely too long. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were, forgot that you should absolutely not be touching him like this, especially not here.

You wanted nothing more than to stand there and hold him like that forever, but eventually, somewhere in the recesses of the rational portion of your mind, an emotional override button was pressed and you let go.

“Wait, Tae. How on Earth did you get this music box over the weekend?” you asked, finally pulling away from him.

“Oh, I actually had that made like two months ago,” he said, suddenly sporting a light blush. “Right after our night in the studio.”

“I just thought of it one day while I was sitting here and you were humming this song while doing my hair. I knew it would be the perfect birthday present so I ordered it before I forgot,” he continued. “It’s been sitting in my closet for over a month.”

The fact that he bought this for you months ago made your heart swell and almost made you forget that he then didn’t remember to give it to you on your actual birthday.

As if reading your thoughts, his face suddenly grew serious as he sat down and motioned for you to take the chair beside him. He steepled his fingers and brought them up to his face as he opened and closed his mouth several times. His brain was clearly working overtime as he tried again and again to collect his thoughts. Eventually, after several minutes, he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and looked at you.

“There is so much to say, and it’s hard to know where to start, but I just want to say again that I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted the last month,” he said solemnly. “I got so caught up with recording my song that I wasn't paying attention to what was happening around me.”

“Wait,” you said confusedly, giving him a curious look. “What do you mean by your song?”

Clearly delighted that you had picked up on that subtle word choice, a tiny little grin formed on this face as you asked that.

“So that’s the thing,” he said excitedly. “It ended up being my song that we recorded, not mine and Jisoo’s song, not Jisoo’s song that I’m featured on. My song. Technically, she did the backing vocals for it, but she’s not officially considered to be featured on it. I actually don’t even think she’ll be listed in the credits at all, come to think of it. That’s how little she contributed.”

You sat there blankly staring at him for a whole minute, trying desperately to process all of what he had just said, but you were struggling.

“Tae...I am so confused,” you finally let out.

“I can see that,” he said with a laugh. “But, OK. Time for me to tell a long story.”

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#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #kth series #kth x reader #kth fluff #kth angst #kth smut #kth #btsv #bts #kth tgtbt

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cuuno-moved · 4 years ago

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Friends Forever

Or: How Sapnap met and lost his family.

@the-gay-is-back

The first time Sapnap saw Dream, he was 5.

He was sitting under one of the tables at his dad’s cafe with a coloring book, coloring in a little panda, humming to himself, when there was a kid crouching in front of him.

They froze, staring at each other, sizing each other up for a bit.

The kid had long blond hair, and freckles scattered across their face and arms. They wore a massive green t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, and a pair of flip flops. They looked a couple years older than Sapnap, but probably weighed half as much as he did.

They tilted their head, narrowing their eyes, but then Sapnap’s dad called for him, and they bolted, leaving him blinking in confusion.

They came back nearly every day after that, just to sit there and watch Sapnap draw. At one point, Sapnap asked his dad where he thought the kid lived, and he looked sad as he explained he probably didn’t have a home, he probably lived on the streets.

Sapnap frowned at that. He couldn’t imagine not having a home, not having a family.

The next time the kid came by and sat in the corner, Sapnap stood up and walked over to him, watching him tense up and eye the door.

“Hi,” He said, simply. “What’s your name?”

“...Dream.”

He smiled happily, introduced himself, and sat down across from him, peacefully going back to drawing.

A couple weeks later, Dream stopped showing up.

Sapnap was terrified that he’d gotten hurt, or worse, but after a week and a half of the corner being empty, suddenly, he was back.

He looked different from the second he burst through the door. His face was clean, and Sapnap could admire the freckles scattered across his cheekbones easier. His hair was still long, but now it was even, and brushed. When Sapnap hugged him, he smelled like rose shampoo.

“I got a dad,” He beamed. “I got a dad, and a brother! I have a family!”

He met his family the next day when he dragged them through the door with a smile and happily introduced them to Sapnap.

His dad was a short man with curly hair, half white half brown. She smiled sweetly at Sapnap, and gave him a warm hug that smelled like the ocean breeze. Dream’s new brother was made of gold, and tall, almost as tall as Sapnap’s dad, who had come out from the back to say hello.

When Sapnap was 7 and Dream was 9, Dream explained nonbinary to Sapnap, and said they used all pronouns, not just he.

Sapnap shrugged, said that was cool or whatever.

A week later, he nervously asked Dream if he could be a boy, if he felt like it.

Dream nodded, and Sapnap grinned, and that night, he told his dad, who hugged him and said he was proud of him.

For a while, it was just the two of them, until Dream met George.

George was smart, and funny, and snarky. He and Sapnap got along wonderfully.

One day, as they sat together, in the playground, watching their dads talk, George pointed out he was the oldest.

“That makes me the leader, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Sapnap scoffed. “I’m the biggest. I’m the leader.”

“No,” George bit back, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. “I’m the oldest, the smartest.”

“You’re not smart.”

“Oh come on, guys,” Dream chuckled, shaking her head. “Why do we need a leader?”

The other two looked at each other for a moment, before nodding. And just like that, Dream was the leader.

George had a little brother, a shapeshifter called Alex. Sapnap didn’t meet him for the first month or so of knowing George, he was always out with their dad when Sapnap came over.

Then, one day, when Sapnap was 9, Dream was 11 and George was 12, they sat on George’s bed, watching a bad horror movie on Dream’s laptop- or rather, George and Dream watched the movie as Sapnap hid his face in George’s shoulder.

There was a knock on the door, and George sighed. “Come in.”

Alex poked his head in. He was Sapnap’s age, with fluffy black hair with little golden feathers sticking out every here and there. His shiny dark eyes flickered over all of them, before he grinned brightly, revealing a missing tooth. “Dad says I have to hang out with you guys.”

George whined, and groaned, but Sapnap was more than happy to hang out with the smaller boy, he was funny and he fit in Sapnap’s lap perfectly.

He started hanging out with them more after that, trailing behind them on their trips to the gas station to grab sodas and laughing when Dream failed on skateboarding tricks.

At one point, Alex started calling himself Quackity, and Sapnap made a joke about it, but he just flipped him off and grinned. “You’re just jealous cause it’s such a cooler name than Sapnap.”

The four were impossible to pry apart.

And then, only three years later, the fifth arrived.

He was small, with fluffy brown hair, and pale skin. His eyes were green (years later, Sapnap would discover they actually weren’t, they were mostly blue, but there were chunks of green and brown, although early in the morning, when he was only half awake, they were a brilliant sapphire color with streaks of orange) and his hands were anxious, twisting in his plain white hoodie.

“Hi,” Dream said, simply, hopping off her swing easily, sending woodchips flying. “I’m Dream.”

The boy nodded back, but didn’t speak as they introduced themselves. After a moment, he pointed at the empty swing next to George.

He started following them around, always a few feet behind, always watching silently. He never spoke, and they never made him.

Until one day, when George paused, sending him a weird look and asked, calmly. “How do you spell your name, again? Is it a K or a C?”

He blinked.

“Okay, cool,” The older boy nodded, satisfied. “I don’t know many Karls with a K.”

Later, they asked George how he knew what his name was, and he just shrugged. Karl didn’t care about them finding out his name, apparently, it was never a secret, he just didn’t talk.

“Can you speak?” Quackity asked one night, after dinner, when they all sat in a circle in Sapnap’s livingroom.

Karl nodded.

“You just don’t want to?”

He nodded again.

“Why?” George asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

He shrugged.

“Is it cause you don’t like us?” Sapnap asked.

At that, his eyes went wide and he desperately shook his head.

“You just don’t like to talk,” Dream said. “Like… I don’t like coffee, you don’t like to talk.”

Karl nodded again, relieved.

“Makes sense,” Quackity nodded sagely. “I don’t like George.”

The first time Karl spoke, Dream’s dad was ordering lunch.

“What kind of sub do you guys want?” She asked, opening the app on her phone and patiently waiting for their orders.

Karl was last, per usual, but instead of reaching for his dry erase board, he just… opened his mouth.

“Can I have a meatball sub, please?”

She froze, staring at him. “Uh… sure, kid. You want cheese on that?”

He shook his head, and went back to the game he was playing on Sapnap’s old gameboy.

Karl was odd, they realized.

He didn’t like talking, unless he was completely comfortable and felt safe. He hummed creepy old songs that sounded like they were from a horror movie, and he liked to drink monster energies, even though, at 15 years old, he really should not have an addiction.

He also liked to steal people’s clothes, cut them up, and sew them together into a Frankenstein hoodie.

Sapnap would happily “forget” to take his hoodies back from Karl, and happily watch him jog up to them the next day with a new patch on his shoulder the same color as the missing jacket.

They all slept over at George’s house on the weekends. His dad would carry an old mattress down from the attic, and all five of them would cram together, with Karl’s around Sapnap’s waist and George’s face in Dream’s spine and Quackity’s feet in all of their faces. It was warm, and it was safe.

One night, Sapnap asked them if they were going to stick together forever.

“Yeah, of course,” Dream whispered. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Friends forever.” Quackity laughed.

“Yeah,” George hummed, already half asleep. “Forever…”

Karl just giggled, nudging Sapnap’s head with his own.

…

He shouldn’t have believed them.

Eight years shouldn’t have been enough time to ruin everything.

He was barely 19, still a kid in all honesty.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, stirring the rice. It was getting cold, he realised faintly. He should eat now, but…

They’d said they were coming over. They said they were going to be here.

Dream couldn’t make it, of course. They were still in prison. He didn’t expect them to show up. He didn’t want them to show up. He still remembered Tommy’s funeral.

George was probably asleep. That was alright, he needed it, he’d been staying up too late again recently, just watching the stars.

But the other two…

Quackity had left earlier that morning, pulling on his eyepatch and hat, tying his tie and nodding goodbye to Sapnap at the door. Around noon, he’d stumbled back, covered in blood, his eyes full of anger and mirth. Sapnap had tried to talk to him, but he’d just shoved past him, grabbed a pickaxe and vanished out the door again.

Karl had been gone for a couple days now. The last Sapnap had seen of him, he’d been sitting on the dining room floor, sobbing as he ripped the faded lime green fabric from his hoodie. Sapnap had left him, let him be alone, and then he was gone.

Sapnap wasn’t hungry.

He stood, grabbing a tub from the cabinet and started to dump the fried rice in.

The front door opened.

He hesitated. “Babe?”

There was silence, then tentative footsteps.

Karl stood there, his hair almost grey, eyes almost lifeless. His hoodie damp, and Sapnap frowned at the lack of shoes on his feet.

“Are you okay? What happened? Are you cold?”

Karl didn’t speak, just staring at him, and he sighed, turning away.

“You missed dinner. I can heat this back up for you, but it’s not going to be as good-”

A pair of arms wrapped around his chest and he jumped, until he felt a familiar face press between his shoulder blades.

“Karl?”

Nothing.

He turned, wrapping his arms around his husband and sighing. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

He wasn’t sure what he was saying, or why it made Karl start to shake, but it felt right, and he repeated it. “It’s ok. You’re ok. We’re going to be alright.”

Quackity came home that night from tearing down his old home to find his husbands curled up in bed without him, and he sighed.

They probably hadn’t even noticed he left.

He turned to leave, to go to the couch, but a pale hand caught onto his and he froze, staring down at Karl.

“Hey.”

No response, just wide eyes.

“... want me to join ya?”

A nod.

They weren’t friends forever. Dream had made sure of that when he betrayed Sapnap at the Battle of the Lake, when he ripped George’s crown from his head, when he called Quackity a terrorist, when he killed a kid. They weren’t the same as they’d been back and they never would be.

But as Sapnap cuddled his boys to his chest, burying his face in Quackity’s hair, he thought that this wasn’t so bad.

#toby writes shit #sapnap #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #karl jacobs #quackity #dream smp #karlnapity #feral boys #willow and karmen's au

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

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"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 18*

Okay don't hate me that it not's terribly long, but I started a little too late and now it's 3 am. I kinda had a busy day.

But I knew you needed some floof. 😉

Chapter 17

Chapter 19

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

----

Meanwhile back in your room

The doctors had finally gotten you rebandaged and calm, before leaving you both alone in your room at last.

"Alright now that you're ok…" Rafael gave you a look. "What is wrong with you?! Why would you come here?!"

You made an annoyed face back at him while pointing to your throat. Obviously you weren't going to be able to tell him.

".... Right," Rafael sighed, then saw your phone. He picked it up and handed it to you. You opened the notes app and typed something, then handed it to him.

"You left me," he read aloud. "I didn't! I tried to see you so many times, bur Sonny made it his mission to keep us apart so I--"

You reached over and tapped the phone screen rapidly, emphasizing your statement.

*...I left," he conceded with a defeated look. He knew you were right; he had just taken off without thinking about you, he just knew what he had to do for him and his feelings.

"But you couldn't have just waited for me to come home?" He asked.

You grabbed the phone back and quickly typed a reply, handing it back to him with a cross face.

"How was I supposed to know you would come back?" He read aloud again. "Because it's my home? Because presidential campaigns don't last forever?! Because I love you? Because--"

Your ears perked up and your eyes went wide at the last statement and you clamped your hand on his arm, making him stop listing things.

“What?” He asked. You made a face at him like, “Are you serious?”

“Oh, why are you so shocked? I already told you this?” Rafael asked, completely confused

You realized that everything he said at the apartment was true, you hadn’t made it up.He really did love you. You started to tear up at the fact that you had for once not made up the most beautiful thing anybody has ever told you in your mind. Pretty soon you were full on sobbing thinking about how you had thought about nothing but this moment for so long, through all of the terror and torture you had gone through in the last few weeks.

“Oh my God, Y/N calm down!” He started to freak out while you silently cried, your bandages starting to fill with blood again as your chest heaved from your sobbing.

“Calm down baby, just breathe,” He pressed his forehead against yours, whispering softly.

You took the phone again and tried to calm yourself as you typed quickly, then handed it back to Rafael.He read it out loud:

“I thought I made that up in my drunken, stupid head,” He looked at you with a soft smile. “No you didn't make it up. “In fact, I technically told you twice, if you can remember,”

You took the phone again and typed, “The operating room,”

He nodded back with a yes. “It took me a while to remember it too,”

You did your best not to start crying again from happiness this time because you knew that any sort of major emotion was going to rupture your bandages. So you just gently squeezed Rafael's hand as if to say you loved him back.

“....Okay but that still doesn't excuse you from just taking off without telling anybody, and nearly getting yourself killed!” He scolded you, but kept his head pressed against yours.

“I don't know what I would have done if the chief hadn't found you sooner. I don't want to think about it,” Rafael shook off the intense fear he had had when Andrew had first mentioned you as a Jane Doe, and then told you the horrifying way that he found you.

You took the phone again and began typing away, and once again handed it back to him. He read aloud,

“Yeah, probably not one of my best ideas. But I would have been fine if not for Chicago,”

His face fell and his voice fell soft as he said “In Chicago,” He gave you a very serious look. You had a sad and scared look on your face, as if you were ready for him to start yelling at you again when he found out what happened in Chicago.

“So something bad did happen to you in Chicago,'' he said softly. You nodded in shamed silence. He took your hand. “That nurse said you had severe tearing....down there,”

He took another long pause really not wanting to ask you the question but he had to know. “Did you get assaulted in Chicago?”

You couldn't help it, the question made you break down into silent sobs once again. Your blood began to soak through your bandages. Rafael wrapped his arms around you, trying to calm you down. He looked up to the sky and tried to keep tears in his own eyes as he held you, thinking about the hell you must have gone through to get to him. He felt like all of this was his fault.

“What happened?” He pulled you away from his chest for a second and asked you. You took the phone once again and softly typed a long-winded story then handed the phone back to him, ashamed. He was scared to read it but he knew that he had to if he was going to help you through this.

“I was an idiot,” he stopped. “First of all, no, you're not an idiot. Don't ever say that,” He told you sternly before continuing.

“I hadn't eaten since I left the city, which was about 20 hours and I was starving. There was a two-hour layover, so I went to an ATM and emptied the rest of my bank account so that I could carry cash and stay off the grid. Then I decided to get food down the street but I didn't know that the train station was in such a bad part of Chicago. I should have known,”

He stopped again. “No you shouldn't have, none of this is your fault,”

You shook your head like you didn't believe him, and then tapped the phone, signaling him to keep reading. He sighed reluctantly, but obeyed.

“On my way back to the train station it was dark and this guy asked me if I had the time and when I went to go get my phone he grabbed my purse and somebody else hit me from behind. Next thing I knew when I woke up... “

Rafael paused, he really didn't want to read this part you really didn't. But he knew that if he was going to help you get through this he needed the whole story.

“When I woke up I was… ’stuck’ between two guys while a third one videoed it.They were all laughing and high-fiving each other--”

Rafael stopped once more and put the phone down, unable to bring himself to read the rest. He looked at you and you got ready for the lecture, but to your surprise he just started to cry and crawled into the bed next to you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, fuck I am so so so sorry,” He sobbed into your chest. You shook your head violently, making him look at you while you typed.

“No, it’s not your fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid--” He stopped you from typing any more.

“Alright, enough. You’re not going to blame this on yourself, do you hear me? It is one hundred percent not your fault,”

You typed: “Not your fault either,”

“...Alright fine, if I don’t blame myself will you stop blaming yourself?” He compromised. You nodded ‘Yes’.

And then you typed: “Bad things happen.”

“Yes but too many bad things have happened to you lately, ever since you met me,” He shook his head sadly while stroking your face with his thumb.

“Not true,” you typed. “The best thing happened after I met you,”

“...The amazing sex?” He was finally able to tease you a bit. You nodded vigorously with a silent giggle. “Well yeah, obvi,” You typed. “But also, love,”

“Yes, very true,” He agreed. “But love shouldn’t be this hard, carino,”

You looked at him very seriously before typing “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He got up from the bed. “I’m saying look where loving me has gotten you! You almost died trying to find me. You got assaulted because I took off on you. Nothing good has happened to you since this started, and loving me doesn’t count because it’s what’s killing you!”

“Okay counterpoint,” You typed furiously. “I almost died trying to find you, and now that I did you’re not going to let that be for nothing, are you?”

“I don’t…” He sighed and sat back on the bed next to you. “No, I guess not. I just--I can’t believe you did this,”

“You’re never getting rid of me,” You typed and then gave him a sly grin.

“Yeah well, I think I already knew that carino,” He chuckled, once again revealing the matching scars you had.

“You’re a part of me,” You typed while he resumed nestling back into your chest.

“So if I need a kidney, we’re square?” He gave you a tongued smile while you hit him playfully. It was then that you realized this entire time since you had been reunited, he hadn’t kissed you. You repeated the gesture of typing and handing him your words, as he read aloud:

“Kiss?” He gave you a look. “Baby I have wanted nothing more since I saw you alive, but I don’t want to...break you, any more than you already are,”

Type type type. Hand. Read.

“...I’m broken without you inside me,” He laughed out loud. “Kinky, carino,”

You gave him a pout before he shook his head with a chuckle, and pulled your face towards him, his lips inching towards yours for the first time in months….

“Alright, Mr. Barba,” Nurse Ratchet aka Laverne busted back in the room with a clipboard. You both snapped to attention at the sudden noise, the moment was gone.

“...The hell is your problem, lady?” Rafael snapped, not moving from your side. In fact, he wrapped a protective arm around you, as if she was going to try and take you from him again.

“Well I’ve spoken to Mr. Carisi, and he tells me that you two shouldn’t be fraternizing, that it’s detrimental to her sobriety,” She informed him with a scornful look.

“Oh for the love of--” He muttered obscenities in Spanish under his breath.

“So I’m afraid at his request, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” She smirked.

“The hell I am,” He held onto you tighter. “Do you have any idea what this girl has been through to get to me? To get to us again?”

“Exactly his point, Mr. Barba,” She crossed her arms. “She clearly has no logical thinking when it comes to you. Her feelings make her completely unstable mentally and lead her into harm’s way, now you don’t want that, do you?”

“No…” He was letting her get in his head, he shifted uncomfortably and started to move his arms away from you but you clenched it to keep him from letting go of you.

Oh no, FUCK this. You did not come this far for your insanely overbearing cousin strong-arming Rafael through a nurse with a ‘mama bear’ complex. You waved your arms back and forth in a big X formation, letting her know Rafael was not going anywhere.

“Sweetie, this is for your own--” She tried the ‘good cop’ bullshit on you, but you weren’t stupid.

You put your hands up to your throat, clutching the bandages around your neck. You tugged at them ever so slightly, a sign you were threatening to rip them off if she didn’t back the hell up, right now. Both Laverne and Rafael reacted, both reaching towards your hands. You put a hand up to Rafael’s face, and a wagging finger up to Laverne’s.

“...She’s going to kill herself if you don’t leave right now, do you think Mister Carisi would appreciate that?” He warned, and you nodded in agreement with a scowl.

“This is only proving your cousin’s point, Y/N,” Laverne pointed out. “You’re acting insanely right now!”

You grabbed your phone and began to type away. Threatening looks wouldn’t work anymore. You handed your phone to Rafael and nudged him to read it out loud to Laverne,

“I don’t care what you, or my cousin thinks. I don’t care if you think I’m being ‘insane’, because what matters is I’ll still do it. I swear to God if you do not leave this room right now I will rip these bandages off so fast, it will be a bloodbath. And my…”

He stopped reading, blinking a few times before continuing:

“...My boyfriend is the best lawyer in New York City and he will sue you and this hospital so fast for malpractice. And he will beat you so hard, you’ll have to rename the whole hospital after him!”

You saw the surprise and sensed the hesitation in his voice when he said ‘boyfriend’, but he did say it-- so that had to be a good sign.

“Your boyfriend?” Laverne said with an unbelievable laugh. “Seriously? Honey…”

“Yes, her boyfriend,” He doubled down on the label, making you smile. He then stood up and took a step towards her as he kept talking.

“And if her cousin has a problem with it, he can take it up with me if and when he gets here. As for you, it’s none of your damn business, so you can take your threats and your judgement out of here right now,”

You crossed your arms and gave her a shit eating grin with a huge YES nodding notion.

“....Fine, we’ll see what’s what when he gets here, and he IS coming. He’s on his way,” She muttered as she walked out of the room.

“Ohhhh I’m sure he is,” Rafael rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smile as he resumed his place at your side. He looked at you, you had the giddiest smile on your face. “What?”

Type Type Type. Hand.

“Boyfriend,” He gave you a small amused smile. “Well, I’d hope so after all this, don’t you think?”

You nodded an enthusiastic YES once more, absolutely in heaven. The only thing that would make it better right now was his mouth on yours.

As if reading your mind, Rafael took your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You felt your throat moving as you kissed him back, as did he. He quickly stopped, but you just took his hands and moved them gently around your neck, pressing them down as if to say ‘just keep pressure on them,’

“I’ll be gentle,” He assured you, putting pressure over the wound as you kissed, keeping the bandages in place. Then he pulled back for a second as he added “....For now,” with a cheeky grin.

You hoped your happy little bubble wouldn’t be busted when Sonny showed up.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfiction #sonny carisi #sonny carisi fanfiction #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba angst #weird secret friends

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gloriafc · 4 years ago

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Fire brings death

Station 19 x criminal minds crossover

You're the oldest daughter to Pruitt Herrera. You were once a firefighter, going to school as you worked. You graduated just as you became a lieutenant. After a few more years you joined the BAU.

The team became your family, just like the fire station once was, still is. Derek became your brother figure. He knew Spencer had a crush on you and continuously pushed him to ask you out.

Eventually Spencer did. It started off as grabbing coffee before work, then grabbing dinner after work. The dates became you both spending time together on your days off, even Hotch was betting on when you'd get together. Rossi won the bet.

Eventually you and Spencer did get together. Your father was happy you found someone. He liked Spencer, the random facts kept him on his toes. After a few years you moved in together. You were happy, extremely happy. The two of you got married, and your dad walked you down the aisle. Your sister managed to hold her happy tears in but your dad was a sobbing mess.

You knew about your father's cancer, he called you personally, you kept pushing him to tell Andy about it, to tell her about how much time he had left.

When Andy gets married you head to Seattle to be there for her, and to convince your dad to go. You stay for a week to spend time with your dad, sister, and your new brother-in-law. The day before you leave Hotch calls you and tells you theres a case that's taking them to Seattle.

You're talking to an officer when your team arrives. "Ryan would've loved working alongside you Herrera." You can just smile not yet seeing your team, and honestly Spencer is kind of jealous, "Its kind of weird to be here without Ryan making some smart ass comment."

When everyone gets a break you take Spencer to one of your favorite coffee shops for lunch. As you're waiting Spencer asks, "Who's Ryan?" "What?" "When we got to the station you and the officer were talking about a Ryan." You look at his face before understanding what's happening. You start chuckling, "Spence are you jealous?" He starts stuttering and you explain, "Ryan was a family friend. We were neighbors our whole lives basically. He had a giant crush on my sister." Spencer looks down slightly embarrassed and you softly grab his face, "He died not too long ago. He always made smart remarks about me being a firefighter turned fed." When he stays quiet you give him a quick kiss before grabbing your order and teasing him, "Jealousy is kind of cute on you Mr Reid." He mumbles making you laugh harder, "I'll show you adorable Mrs Reid."

When the case was finished your dad invited everyone to a dinner, happy to have both of his daughters free, even if it was for the night. Your dad had to personally go to your hotel to invite your team. The evening was filled with laughter as your team and the fire station have a wonderful evening filled with laughter.

The next day you and your team are at the police station to finish off some left over paperwork when you get a call. You're happy to hear one of your dads friends voice but quickly grow confused when he tells you to grab a radio and what station to turn it to. Keeping the phone on your ear you look for a police radio and change the station hearing the chatter from, doctors, police and firefighters. You hang up when you hear Mayas voice. "What's going on?" You can only shake your head at Hotchs question as your eyes stay focused on the radio, "I dont. I dont know." You're running for the door when you hear the words leave Mayas mouth, "Captain Herrera is on the roof."

Morgan is faster than you and grabs the keys out of your hand. When you get to the scene you can see your dad hacking away at the roof. You immediately push through everyone to get to Maya. "Maya!" She can only look at you and shake her head, silently telling you she tried. With a quick second Morgan and Spencer are pulling you off of the side of the truck, "Y/N no!" "Someone has to get him down! He won't listen to anyone else." No one says anything when your voice cracks, everyone understanding what's about to happen.

Spencer traps you in his arms. The only thing anyone can do is watch. When the roof caves in, the only thing you can do is put your face into your husband's neck and grip his sweater as tears pour down your face. Spencer looks at the team to see them staring at the two of you with sadness for you on their faces. This being one of the few times anyone's seen you unhappy.

You mumble into Spencer's chest, but he can hear you clearly, "I never got to tell him." He can only rub your back in comfort. When the firefighters come out Andy stops seeing you and is about to ask what you're doing there but stops, staring at something behind you. You look and see your dads hat sitting on the truck, you look at her and only nod. A second goes by before shes running out of Sullivan's arms and into yours.

Everything stays quiet, as a sign of respect for your father. When your father's body is brought out on a gurney, your sisters still in your arms, your husbands behind you, and everyone including your team surrounding the gurney at a respectful distance. Mayas the only one who can bring herself to say something. "We should. We should say some words... Out of respect." It stays quiet until Sullivan speaks up, "He was a respected man. An amazing captain, an amazing man. He sacrificed his life so we could live, so we could continue sacrificing ours to save lives. He was a legacy, that we can only live up to." You can feel eyes on you and your sister as it gets quiet. You speak up as your head rests on top of Andy's, "He was stubborn. I can hear him now saying he was going to die anyways. He did something not many people would've. He wasn't just our dad, he was everyone's, if someone got in trouble we all did. That's who he was. He was never going to let cancer take him out. He went out on his own terms, doing something he loved. And I'm sure he appreciated the time he spent with everyone here even if most of it was him yelling at us."

That night Spencer watches as you sit on one of the chairs in your hotel room, the rest of your team had to go back home but you and Spencer were given the clear to stay for a couple days. Spencer's on the phone with Penelope, "How's she doing?" "Shes. Uh. She. She misses her dad." "Give her our love and support, we'll see you guys when you get back."

Spencer makes his way to you crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his, "You should get some sleep." You can only look at him with tears in your eyes, you look exactly like your dads favorite picture of you. A picture Spencer memorized the first time he saw it. A baggy hoodie and some leggings, and your wavy hair brushed but in a mess. "I never got to tell him." Spencer can only sigh and run his thumb along your cheek as the tears start falling again, "There was three things he wanted out of life. To be a firefighter, and he was an amazing one. He wanted to walk his daughters down the aisle and he did. But he never got to have grandchildren. And now. He's gonna miss it. I never even got the chance to tell him." "He'll be there in spirit. In stories. In your memories. He'll always be there." Your crying gets harder and you have to talk in between breaths, "I know we have friends. But who am I going to call. When the baby wont go to sleep in the middle of the night. Or when it wont eat. Hes not going to be there when I'm in labor and scared out of my mind. He wont be able to buy. One of those grandpa favorites onesies or spoil it rotten. Theres so many things that's not gonna happen. And now. Now it just feels like I can't breathe. And I don't know what to do."

Spencer stands up and pulls you with him, pulling you into his chest. He rubs your back as he speaks into your hair, "Just breathe baby. It's hard right now. I know. But with time everything will be fine. You'll learn to live with just his memory, and you'll tell this baby memories as you show them pictures as they grow up. Your father won't be forgotten."

In the morning Sullivan calls you, telling you your sister wont sleep. That's shes just staring at the wall. Spencer takes you over, the two men sitting in the kitchen drinking tea as you head up to the room. Andy looks at you for a second before her eyes are back on the wall, you sigh and say, "Its really weird that I'm about to climb into the bed you do the deed in." When she cracks a small smile you climb in next to her, a pillow separating the two of you. It takes a second, but she rolls over to face you. "It doesn't feel real." "I know. The only way I can think about it is that he went out on his own terms and not because of the cancer in his balls." She let's out a small laugh, "Did you have to say it like that?" "It got a laugh out of you didnt it?" When she stays quiet you sigh and push the hair out of her face, "Its gonna be weird for a while." "How long?" "Everyone heals different. We might be okay tomorrow. Or it could take us years."

You spend a couple minutes chuckling about small random things your dad did, things he did while you two were growing up. Then the conversation shifts to things you'll miss, things hes going to miss. "I always thought he'd live to see grandchildren." You grab her hand, "How do you think he would've reacted once he found out he'd only have to wait like six more months, if he had the chance?" Andy stops and looks at you, "Are you and Spencer?" You nod with a tearful smile. "I was going to tell him the night of the dinner, but everyone was a little too drunk. I should've. But I didn't want to have to retell him in the morning." Before you know it your sisters arms are wrapped around your neck in a hug.

An hour goes by and your husbands decide to check on the two of you. You're both fast asleep wrapped in each others arms, like you used to do as kids when Andy had a bad dream and didn't want to wake up your dad. "They'll be okay. They have each other." "They have a whole village behind them. They'll still hurt, but they have the support they need to move on and heal."

#crossover #station 19 imagine #station 19 #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer x reader #andy herrera #imagine

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addictedtomanga · 4 years ago

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Shoujo manga recommendations - unrequited love

1. 360 Degrees Material

Taki is the cool yet strange guy in Mio's class. She bumps into him at the subway station after school and saves him after he almost gets pushed onto the tracks. The next day, he returns the favor by saving her from an incoming car. This marks the start of Mio's love.

2. Ai Kara Hajimaru

Sakura Ai has always loved sunflowers, as they appear like the sun, which incidentally also was the name of her first crush, Taiyou, in the 3rd grade. From since then, Ai has never had another love and has also become quite introverted, but after meeting a guy with the same name, somethings will begin to change…

3. Anta Nante Okotowari

Yui has a deep love for her "older brother" (they're not actually siblings, but are related), and she is devastated when he gets married. While at the wedding, Yui meets a sobbing boy, Kaoru. It turns out that his cousin (that he was in love with) is the one Yui's brother is marrying. When Yui moves into a boy's dorm so she can seek out new love, she finds that the head of the dorm is none other than Kaoru!

4. Ao Haru Ride

Yoshioka Futaba has a few reasons why she wants to "reset" her image and life as a new high-school student. Because she's cute and had a demure personality she was ostracized by her female friends in junior high, and because of a series of misunderstandings and mishaps, she couldn't get her feeling across to the one boy she has always liked, Tanaka Kou. Now in high school, she is determined to be as unladylike as possible so that her friends won't be jealous of her. While living her life this way contentedly, she meets Tanaka-kun again, but he now goes under the name of Mabuchi Kou. He tells her that he felt the same way as she did when they were younger, but that they cannot go back. Will Futaba be able to continue her love that never even started from three years ago?

5. Awayuki no Namida

Ritsuka, who likes to watch the snow as it falls, has an unrequited love for Fubuki, who lives with an older woman. Ritsuka and Fubuki fall in love, but Fubuki still has past debts toward the older woman, who was his dead brother's fiancee.

6. Bambi to Dhole

Yukimi is her real name but everyone calls her Bambi. She is the student discipline committee member who locks students out of the school if they're a minute late, but sneaks cigarette breaks on the roof. Lone wolf transfer student Tetsu Nagasawa hops the fence after she locks it and breaks her cigarette in half when he finds her on the roof, but he's a super nice guy to a mother and baby on the train. Bambi already has a boyfriend but will the wolf steal her heart?

7. Celeste Blue

Eishi is one of those popular guys that are smart, good looking, and is good at sports. However, he thinks people and "love" are bothersome and would rather not deal with either of them. When his teacher told him to help this girl, Uta, to study, he dreaded the idea of having to stick with such an annoying girl. Soon, though, his heart starts to lighten up towards her.

8. Datte, Kimi ga Warau kara

Let’s get into a time machine and return to that time. Where it was always fun and you were always laughing, to that time... "I only have three more months to live" Yui who just transferred to a new school in the countryside becomes Ryo’s classmate. Yui who is suffering from an illness has a "wish" that she can’t tell anyone, but Ryo wants to grant her that wish but… After death, reality hits Ryo and Yui. This is the story of the eternal promise that was made by the two of them.

9. Eien no Mae

Arisa has had a crush on classmate Nageki since the school festival, but has never spoken to him. Will she be able to strike up a conversation before they part ways at graduation?

10. Futari no Himitsu

Saijou Kiki is a model and child star and with the release of her new commercial her popularity skyrockets. At school, she harbors feelings for Takumi-kun... but somehow ends up kissing his friend Teppei?! And what's more, they've switched bodies due to some sort of old legend?!

11. Getsuyoubi Kara Kataomoi

Despite his one-sided love, a prince at school encouraged his crush to confess to her crush. But he also could not resist confessing to her. What will happen?

12. Hachimitsu ni Hatsukoi

Koharu and Nacchan are childhood friends which many of their friends thought they are a dating couple. Soon, after getting into senior high school, Koharu feels something different with Nacchan. While Koharu tries to figure out her feelings, Nacchan's already falling in love with someone else, the beautiful Saionji, but his love doesn't stop him from caring for Koharu. Does what Nacchan feel towards Saionji really be love? Why can't he let Koharu go on a blind date?

13. Hatsukoi Hakusho

A collection of one shots.

14. Hiren Trip

Miyu, an ordinary new first-year student who hopes to become a mangaka meets the schools’ class president who seems to have a hidden side to him. While being pushed around by the cool but private class president, the curtain on Miyu's stormy school life is raised.

15. Katakoi Triangle

Sekiya-san of the cultural library has an unrequited love for Yuuki-kun. The one who cares about Sekiya-san is the popular Kasai-kun, who is also Yuuki-kun's friend! And, what's this? Yuuki-kun is rooting for Kasai-kun?! It seems that everyone's feelings are one-sided... or are they?

16. Kimi ga Inakya Dame tte Itte

Nayu and Oumi are childhood friends. Without realizing it, Nayu finds she has fallen for Oumi over the years. However, just as she comes to terms with her feelings, Oumi reveals himself to be in love with the pretty Tsuzuki-san in his class. How will Nayu deal with such heartbreak?

17. Kimi o Omou Toki

What does it mean to love? Most of the time, I don't know... Falling in love with someone always ends up with a farewell. Encounters in which you can meet a kind man are very rare. For someone to tell me, "Momo-chan, I love you very much~ ♪" and to caress me with a smile... I don't understand the meaning of those things. Still, that kind of behavior gives me a warm feeling and makes my head spin.

18. Kimi to Kyun Koi, Shiyou

A collection of one shots.

19. Kobayashi ga Kawai Sugite Tsurai

The comedy starts when the cross-dressing begins! The Kobayashi twins, Mego and Mitsuru, were named after historical figures, but only Mego has grown up with a taste for history. So when Mitsuru is in danger of losing his weekends to extra history classes, he convinces his sister to swap clothes with him and ace his tests! After all, how hard can it be for them to play each other? But Mego can’t rely on just her book smarts in Mitsuru’s all-boys, delinquents’ paradise of a high school. And Mitsuru finds life as a high school girl to be much more complicated than he expected!

20. Koi dano Ai dano

After constantly transferring during middle school (Warau Kanoko-Sama), Naedoko has entered Takara No Tani High along with Tsubaki. Follow her adventures as she tries to restore the Newspaper Club's status without being noticed by the Broadcasting Club or Student Council...!

21. Koi ni Dokubari

Youthful, real love between a pure girl x sharp-tongued boy. ‘The boy I’ve had a long unrequited love for has found himself a girlfriend. On top of that, she’s my best friend. Even though I’m the one who met him and fell in love with him first. Why did he not choose me…?’ Heart-broken Aya meets Ryuu, an unpredictable, older boy. Aya gradually begins to be drawn to this sharp-tongued, but kind Ryuu. However, this love isn’t straightforward at all. “When you fall in love, you can’t keep being a ‘kind, good girl’.” Ryuu’s words pierce her heart, doesn’t disappear and is painful, but…?

22. Last Game

Yanagi is rich, smart, a girl-magnet, and always at the top of his class... well, until Kujou transferred in his primary school. She was quiet, plain, and poor, yet not once has she failed at beating Yanagi, both in academics and sports! Yanagi has made it his life goal to defeat her and thus, followed her from elementary until college over the past 10 years. Only when he decides to change the rules might he finally win. Here comes their last game!

23. Love so Life

Shiharu is a high-school student who loves kids, lives in an orphanage, and works at a daycare... Until the handsome uncle of two-year-old twins offers her a raise if she'll be their babysitter. Often relying on memories of her mother's actions for guidance, Shiharu quickly finds herself falling in love with her new makeshift family.

24. Mako to Aki-chan no Koigokoro

A collection of one shots.

25. Metallic Colors

The story of a stylish and gaudy girl who strives to win the heart of the boy she likes.

26. Nonchan to Watashi

Risa and Takumi are childhood friends, but due to a fight in the past, they stopped talking to each other. Now university students, Takumi is a famous playboy who goes out with a different girl every day, and Risa still regrets not having been able to apologize for what she did six years ago...

27. Orange

In the Spring she was 16, Takamiya Naho receives a strange, but detailed letter from herself, ten years in the future. At first she thinks the letter is a prank, but then the things written in the letter actually happen, including the new transfer student that sits next to her in class, Naruse Kakeru. The letter reads just like her diary entries, down to the same characters. It is not till two weeks later, when Kakeru shows back up at school, that Naho finishes the letter. In the letter, her 27-year-old self tells her 16-year-old self that her biggest regret is that Kakeru is no longer with them in the future, and asks her to watch him closely.

28. Propose no Okite

A high school girl becomes a wife?! And her husband is the worst man? Because she had to pay her family’s debt, she married! The husband is the son of a big Hotel company. The first time she saw him she said "You got a wife thanks to your money! You’re the worst!" "I maybe the worst", he said "but you’ll have to live all your life by my side…"

29. Saboten no Himitsu

Miku Yamada has a longtime crush on classmate Kyohei Fujioka. But no matter how many times she tries to show him how she feels, clueless Kyohei just doesn't get it. Frustrated, Miku gives up on him, only to have him start calling her "Cactus" for being prickly when he's around. Will Kyohei ever figure out Cactus's secret?

30. Shitsuren Biyoushitsu

A collection of one shots.

31. SP x Baby

A romantic comedy about a privileged man and his kickass female bodyguard. Tamaki Hasegawa misses an interview for a much-needed job in order to stop an assault on a man running for his life! The man—Kagetora Sugo, the prime minister’s nephew—then asks Tamaki to become his bodyguard. Tamaki isn’t sure she’s cut out to be a bodyguard, but Kagetora has another reason for wanting to hire her. Unbeknownst to her, they’ve met before…

32. Special A

Her whole life, Hikari Hanazono has been consumed with the desire to win against her school rival, Kei Takishima--at anything. He always comes out on top no matter what he does, and Hikari is determined to do whatever it takes to beat this guy!

33. Suki desu Suzuki-kun

Suzuki Hikaru, Hoshino Sayaka, Ito Chihiro and Suzuki Shinobu are all new students who have just entered the same middle school. Sayaka is a shy girl who secretly loves acting. Hikaru is an energetic boy who loves basketball. Incidentally, he shares the same last name with Shinobu, a popular rich boy who would be perfect if not for his rotten personality. Chihiro is Hikaru’s childhood friend and has long had a crush on him.

34. Wana Love - Wanna be the Honey Trap

Mayuko is a model. She's acting like a beauty in front of guys but in fact she's suffering of an unrequited love with the cameraman Nagumo...Will she reveal her true nature through his lens...?

35. Yoshiwara Hana Oboro

Hana is a normal teenager who goes to school normally, that is until she gets run over by a car... or did she? Suddenly, she finds herself in a weird place known as the "Red Light District"... in EDO PERIOD?! Trying to find a way to get back to her own time, she somehow gets mistaken for a prostitute and has to escape. Not expecting to be saved by a gentleman, she suddenly ends up in a geisha house.. but then she is bought by the same guy who helped her earlier?!

36. Yumemiru Taiyou

While loitering in the park, Shimana Kameko, who intended to run away from home and skipped school, meets a suspicious man in a kimono. This man, who had been locked out of his house, offers Shimana a place to stay. However, he requests she fulfill three conditions in exchange for her tenancy?!

#manga #shoujo recommendation #unrequited love #romance #ao haru ride #bambi to dhole #kobayashi ga kawai sugite tsurai #last game #love so life #orange #special a #suki desu suzuki kun #yumemiru taiyou #one shot #sherlock #shoujo manga #mangacap #mitsuki kako #wana love

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magnoliasinbloom · 4 years ago

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Lie To Me - 19

AO3 :: Previously

Jamie prays as he has not done so in a long time. He prays on his knees in the hospital’s nondenominational chapel, long enough that there are likely permanent dents in the bone. He lays prostrate on the weathered linoleum, hands held fast in supplication, hands beating at the floor in anger and desperation.

His voice in the empty chapel is rigid with fear and grief. He pleads; he bargains; he threatens; he begs for a miracle out of the lavishness of his God’s grace.

“Dinna leave me, Sassenach. This time I’ll beg. A Dhia, dinna take her from me.”

Dr. Denzell Hunter is listed on a whiteboard as the man responsible for operating on Claire. She had been rushed to the nearest operating room, and it had taken several nurses and a security guard to stop him from going in after her. The threat of being kicked out and banned from the premises had made him acquiesce.

Now, curses mingle with his prayers as he recalls the fabric of Claire’s dress turning almost black with her spilled blood. He vows to destroy the MacKenzie, to strangle Dougal with his own bare hands and watch with fervent glee as the life leaves his eyes.

Jamie had failed, once again, to protect her. That particular thought gnaws at him and will not let him rest. He briefly touches the bright red stains on his white jacket, some already rusted brown; a nurse had offered him clothes from the lost and found to change into, but he had refused. He would wear this until he knew for certain whether Claire lived or died.

Claire.

He struggled to his feet, knees protesting from the hard floor. He stumbles to the nurses’ station near the waiting room, hoping for an update on her condition. Geillis rounds the corner, in surgical scrubs but an incongruous, fully made-up face from the gala.

“Jamie!” She hugs him briefly and takes in the bloody jacket with a gasp. “I came as soon as I heard. The group chat blew up, saying a doctor had been shot outside the museum. I’d hoped it wasna Claire, but…” she trails off and suppresses a sob. “Hunter’s operating, he’s one of the best. She’ll be alright, Jamie.”

“They dinna ken… they havena—” He gestures helplessly towards the board and the nurses’ station and Geillis grips his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Aye. They’ll talk to me, let me see what I can find out.” She whirls away through the doors marked for authorized personnel only. Jamie feels time slog by in fits and starts, minutes dragging on endlessly, and before he knows it, it’s already been three hours since Claire arrived in the ambulance.

Geillis returns and takes him by the arm, dragging him to a secluded corner of the waiting room. “She’s stable, for now. The bullet hit her liver, which is very vascular—meaning there was a lot of blood loss, because it has many blood vessels,” she adds, understanding the look on his face. “But the liver regenerates itself, and she’s received blood transfusions to replace it. She was damned lucky.”

“Not lucky enough, to be with the likes of me,” Jamie whispers, dragging his hands through his hair. Geillis pulls his hands back down roughly, shaking him out of his stupor.

“It verra well could have been you, and I’d be having a different conversation with Claire. Now.” She regards his blood-soaked jacket with distaste. “I’ll take you to the doctors’ lounge, and ye’ll have a shower and change into something less morbid. Ye have to take care of yerself too—do it for her, at least.”

Her words tug at what’s left of Jamie’s heart and he agrees, if only to kill more time while the other half of his soul lies on a cold operating table.

X-x-X

“John Grey is here to see ye, Fraser,” Geillis calls into the lounge where Jamie is tying up the drawstring on the too-short scrubs. He fits the brace back over his hand and comes out to meet John Grey.

Jamie’s first instinct upon seeing the chief inspector is to wrench him into a hug. It catches Grey by surprise, but he is quick to return Jamie’s tight embrace.

“Thank ye, John,” Jamie manages, fisting handfuls of Grey’s shirt in his hands, the struggles of the previous night catching up to him once more. “I dinna ken how to thank ye.”

“No need, Jamie.” Grey pulls away and gestures toward the waiting room. “If you don’t mind, there’s someone here from SCD who would like to take your statement regarding the… incident. I know it’s a lot to ask, with what happened to Ms. Beauchamp, but it’s important to have all our ducks in a row. We’re moving ahead with the legal process, and bringing Leoch down. And I brought Murtagh along as well.”

The thought of seeing his godfather lifts Jamie’s spirits. The waiting room holds an elderly couple and a young man reading a French newspaper, and Murtagh surrounded by a few police officers. He sits and at Grey’s prompting, begins to recount everything that happened. Remembering the moment that Claire was shot makes his voice and hands shake with anger, and he glances at the clock behind the nurses’ station. Almost 3 AM. As he signs the affidavit, he’s suddenly yanked to his feet by Geillis.

“Family for Claire Beauchamp?” A tired-looking surgeon with blue paper booties covering his shoes emerges from the direction where they’d taken Claire.

“Yes, doctor?”

“Are you family?” He has an American accent, odd amongst the Scottish burr he’s accustomed to hear in Glasgow.

Jamie wavers, but Geillis intervenes before he can say the wrong thing. “He’s her fiancé, Dr. Hunter. Jamie Fraser.”

“Very well, Mr. Fraser. Miss Beauchamp is presently in the post-op recovery room. We managed to extract the bullet, and patch up her liver as best we could. The next 48 hours will be critical, as we’ll be watching for infection, but hopefully that won’t be an issue. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me. She was very lucky indeed.” Hunter extends a hand to shake Jamie’s, and he feels a small weight lift off his shoulders.

“Can I see her?”

“We’ll make sure to let you know when she’s in a room. She’ll be sleeping most of the time. And yes, Inspector Grey, I’ll appraise your team when she is in fit condition to talk to you,” Hunter adds, anticipating the officer’s comment.

With a grateful handshake, Jamie watches Dr. Hunter walk away. He drops onto the vinyl couch like a stone, his face in his hands, as the storm within finally gives way to racking sobs.

Alive. Claire’s alive.

X-x-X

Claire is aware of her body before anything else. A dull, throbbing ache laces her right side, and it feels rigid. Bandages, her mind thinks fuzzily. Why am I bandaged?

Her eyes still closed, she tries wiggling her toes. Still there. The feeling traverses up her legs, avoiding her abdomen which she instinctively knows will hurt like bloody hell, and then a fluttering of her fingers. She finds her left hand entrapped and she panics for a second. At this, she struggles to open her eyes. She blinks at the harsh white lighting above her head.

Claire glances down as she feels a warm wetness, and she realizes it’s Jamie. Jamie is crying, kneeling by her bedside. She wishes she could cradle his face and wipe his tears away, but decides it would hurt too much to move. She settles for speaking, after clearing her throat.

“I’ve decided… not to die.” Claire’s voice is soft and rusty from misuse, but it still startles Jamie. He comes out of his reverie to see that her eyes are open, a luminous gold in her white face.

Jamie doesn’t know what to say to that, so he manages a strangled, “Oh, good.”

“I could have. This is… bloody awful.” She winces as she tries to shift her body, but Jamie stops her. He is afraid to touch her further, for fear of hurting her, but can’t bear not to. He lays a hand as lightly as he can on her cheek, finding it cool. No fever; the IV pumping antibiotics into her via the needle in her right arm seems to be working.

“I know,” he says roughly, recalling the weeks spent in hospital healing from his own wounds. Jamie brings her untethered hand to his lips. Her bones feel frail. She hasn’t even the strength to squeeze his hand.

“But I… wouldn’t do that to you.” Already this small interaction is tiring her, and she is out of breath, but it seems important to let him know, that she is here, and she is still fighting. For herself, and for him.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. Truly.” He pushes himself off the floor with a groan, knees stiff and painful. He drags an uncomfortable-looking chair from the corner of the room and sits, still as close as possible to Claire. She looks him over, notices the dark bruises under his eyes and how his hands shake slightly.

“You haven’t slept or eaten, have you?” she asks critically; Jamie ducks his head and she knows she’s right. Claire is mindful of how much energy each word expends. She wants to remain awake, to drink him in, to just be with him, but knows the road to recovery is just beginning. “It won’t do me any good to have you sick, either. Go eat, please, and then get some rest too.”

“I dinna want to—”

“Stubborn Scot.” Claire sighs, and exhaustion wants to pull her under again. “There’s a couch. I’m sure it pulls out.”

Jamie offers a small smile. “What I want right now, Sassenach—I want verra much to kiss ye.”

“Come here, then.” Afraid to hurt her but even more desperate to feel her lips against his, he brushes his mouth in the gentlest kiss.

“Do ye need anything, Claire? Shall I call the nurse? Geillis has been around, but ye were still out.” Jamie is anxious to leave her, but understands that he cannot run himself ragged; he would be unable to help her recover and be with her.

“No.” Her eyes are already drifting closed, with a combination of what her body endured and the pain medication. “I just need… you. Go. I’ll be… here.”

With a final peck on the lips, Jamie heads for the door. Even though Claire is sleeping again, he makes her a promise, out loud: “You werena the first lass I kissed, but I swear to ye that ye’ll be the last.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #ltm19 #one more to go #i have absolutely no knowledge of the scottish legal system so next chapter's straight outta my imagination #thanks for reading and commenting and liking and reblogging #<3

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mrsmaybank · 4 years ago

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Gas Station Girl - Spencer Reid x Reader CH 2

Spencer Reid’s first impression of the Reader is mixed. She’s “audacious, promiscuous, clever, and troubled.” and there is so many things Spencer would like to do about it.

A/N: I’m writing a Spencer Reid x Reader multific! The series will be intense and 18+. Age gaps, Explicit sexual content, angst, family issues, dark themes including: violence, suicide, murder, death, blood, and drug addiction. Chapters will of course have trigger warnings depending on the content. Enjoy and PLEASE leave me feedback!

CHAPTER ONE HERE

A/N2: This chapter definitely gives off “Fixing Somebody” vibes, which is wrong and I am NOT romanticizing it. This story is FICTIONAL, and meant for ENTERTAINMENT purposes only. If this isn’t your thing, don’t read this chapter! Also, I wanted it to kinda be a slowburn, so there isn’t anything SPICY or explicitly romantic YET, but expect it soon!!

TW: Language, age gap, ANGST, alcohol consumption, mentions of molly, & mentions of blood

Fic Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4WYosdR6Tz4y9lsmUghoMU?si=ZvyS_2oqSDW95PxULRs2fQ

It had been a busy two weeks since Spencer had met his gas station girl, and everytime his mind had a second to wander they thought’ve her under the neon lights. Her voice above the zoom of speeding cars, and the perfect shape her lips made when she exhaled the smoke in her lungs. The way she sang in his car like a public flaunt of freedom, like she had no responsibilities or a care in the world. It made him think more, where’d she come from? What’d she been through? Under what circumstances was this mystifying character for a girl been procured? It didn’t take a BA in psychology to decide the circumstances probably weren’t entirely pleasant, and the thoughts made him more sad then he cared to admit. That being said, there wasn’t much time to let his mind wander. As cases seemed to be piling up on different sides of the country, the Doctor spent almost every hour in the past two weeks working alongside his team to solve them.

Now it was 7:30 on a Friday night, and the members of the BAU were preparing for something they were all in desperate need of. A Rossi dinner party, with lots of pasta and lots of wine. Spencer closed the file, at last he was finally finished with all the paperwork necessary to officially close the case. He walked over to the coffee station, pouring himself a cup with too much sugar, looking over the office to see his team members doing the same thing he was a couple minutes ago. Frantically dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s so they could get out of this damn office and have a nice dinner with their friends.

Morgan got up and threw his hands up in victory.

“I’m done man! I am done for the day!” he practically threw his files into the cabinet. “Rossi’s probably already home by now. Pretty boy ride with me to the liquor store before we go?”

Reid took the final sip of his overly sweet coffee, “Sure, see you guys there?” he asked his co-workers.

Penelope muttered an “Hmmhmm”, but the rest of his teammates were still eyes glued to their screens and paperwork.

Derek and Reid got in the car, laughing and talking about random things.

“I know it’s out of the way, but Prentiss and I are in a challenge to see who can find the most expensive wines for cheap, and I read online that this specific liquor store sells a 1962 bottle of red from Italy dude, for $19 dollars. I don’t care if it tastes like rotten grapes, I just wanna win this stupid ass game.”

Spencer laughed at his antics, “You guys are weird.”

“Coming from you!” Derek rebutted, pulling into the parking lot.

Spencer did a double take, but he recognized her instantly. Dirty sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tiny gray tank-top, a beautiful face framed in messy hair. What the fuck was she doing now? As he got a better look though, his concern grew. Her once bright eyes were dull, ringed with make-up that looked like residue from sobbing, her lips were puffy and it looked like there was dried blood on the bottom one, dirt on her knees. She looked awful, well still beautiful, but awful.

Derek noticed his friend’s intense stare at the broken-looking girl, sitting on the sidewalk, brown bagged drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. “You know her?”

“Uh, yeah. We met at a gas station once.”

Derek parked and looked him right in the eye, “You met at a gas station once?”

“Yeah.” Spencer unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car into her direction.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped in surprise and fear, and Spencer’s heart broke at her reaction.

“Spencer?” She looked like a deer in headlights, nothing like the tough, independent girl he’d met that night at the 7/11.

“Hey.” he said softly, “Are you okay?”

She seemed to break out of her trance at the question, a wall rebuilding, a strange glint in her eye, and Spencer noticed. “What? Yeah. Totally cool.” she said, followed by a spit of blood and a wipe of her mouth.

“Not to profile you or anything, but you don’t really seem okay.”

“Dr, FBI, sir, you don’t actually know anything about me. Who are you to judge if I’m okay or not?” She slurred defensively. It wasn’t evident before, but she was absolutely wasted.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But I can’t leave you here. Not safe. Is there somebody I can call?”

“Yeah, yeah, my sister, Carmen.”

“Okay, I’ll call her. What’s her number?” he said pulling out his phone/

“Oh fuck, I forgot.”

“Her number?”

“No, no.” She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, “She's probably strung out on molly naked on a park bench right now!” She laughed almost manically.

Spencer felt his heart break a little more, this girl needed help right now. “A friend?”

She laughed again, it was a broken, sad laugh, and Spencer hated the sound. “It’s Friday. My friends are probably--” she noticed the concerned look on Spencer’s face. “Nevermind.”

“Y/N, is there anybody?”

“Yeah, yeah there’s somebody.” she put out her cigarette. “Call him. His name is Teddy.” she handed him her phone.

She played with her shoes as she heard the number dial, and the familiar voice of her ex, answering with an all too familiar irritation that stung more than she’d like to admit.

“Teddy? It’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Hey yeah. I’m with Y/N here, she’s not doing so well. Can you come pick her up?” Pause. “I’ll send you our location.” Pause. “Cool, thank you.”

Both Spencer and Derek waited for Teddy to arrive, Spencer next to her on the sidewalk, Derek in the car, with so many questions. When Teddy did arrive, Spencer couldn’t help but profile him.

The way he interacted with her, they must be close, or had been at some point. He took off his flannel and wrapped Y/N in it. It was so cliche a girl like her had a guy like this at her call, Spencer thought. Though it wasn’t obvious, he was younger then Spencer, slightly taller, tattooed and undoubtedly a little rougher around the edges.

He politely thanked Spencer for calling him, put Y/N in his passenger seat, and as as they pulled out of the parking space, he could hear him tell her something, “Fuck Y/N, what the fuck happened?”

Spencer watched as they drove away, utterly speechless. They were practically worlds apart, and Spencer had this absolutely burning desire to figure out hers. What was going on in that beautiful head? What was going on in that melancholy short film for a life? How could he fix it?

______________________________________________________________

Taglist (Comment to be added!) : @hailey-the-heathen @sailorjade125@criminalmindzjunkie

#spencerreid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer #spencer reid angst #reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid slowburn #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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petri808 · 3 years ago

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Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

“How are you holding up son, are you eating enough food? You need to keep up your strength.” Mitsuki Bakugou questioned through the phone when her son called to give her an update.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I am! And, um, thanks for the money you put in my account,” Bakugou mumbled his appreciation.

“It’s from us, Inko, and All Might— actually he’s been putting up the bulk of it. We’re all hoping you find Izuku soon, but until then we’ll make sure you have what you need, just bring him home.”

“I’m working on it. Bastard’s not making it easy, but at least the damn authorities haven’t picked up on the trail yet.” It was a good thing, because Bakugou didn’t need them scaring Midoriya further away.

“You’re like a dog with a bone when you put your mind to something, so I know you’ll find a way.”

“I can’t believe you just equated me to a dog!”

“Oh, bite your tongue boy! It’s an expression!”

“Yeah, yeah. I better go, the train’s here.” He could see it pulling into Kawaji station.

“Are you still not gonna tell us where you are?”

“Nope. He moves around a lot anyways. Just know we haven’t left Honshu.”

“Alright. Good luck son. I’ll pass on your update to Inko and All Might.”

This game of hide and seek was physically wearing on Bakugou, but there was nothing short of a full incapacitation that would keep him from searching. After the Ena incident, Midoriya’s tactics had changed somewhat. The man moved more frequently and, in a zigzag, whereas in the past it had been heading in a straight line towards Shizuoka to the southwest. But there was one thing Midoriya couldn’t hide— victims. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

There were still times victims were drained, but not all of them. Bakugou surmised in order to not leave them fully incapacitated like before, his friend wasn’t always waiting until he was hungry, or he hadn’t learned to control it yet. He probably fed almost nightly, picking drunkards who wouldn’t remember what happened, and even less likely to report the incident. But less reports made it harder to track, and less blood also forced Midoriya to drink more often. Bakugou hoped that with shorter times between attacks, the man would get sloppy and make a mistake.

There were a lot of small towns all over, including abandoned structures from older times. Plenty of places to hide, not to mention dense forests and the mountainous terrain of central Japan that a person could disappear in. When tracking a lack of victim reports grew frustrating, Bakugou started looking for other clues, and in one town, a perceptive police officer commented about thefts he’d been hearing about from the surrounding areas. Random stores or restaurants, even some homes reporting the theft of food, sometimes clothing, basically survival type supplies but no valuables, which are not the norm of a burglary. It was brilliant.

Bakugou had thanked the officer for the information and immediately began inquiring in towns and watching newspapers where they were having both types of problems. It took almost a month, including a couple of near misses, until Bakugou knew he was closing in.

Local newspapers were reporting about unusual happenings in the smaller towns. In Ieyama city, high up in the mountains north of Shizuoka, Bakugou spoke with a police officer and confirmed a rash of strange incidents reported. Three burglaries of just food, one bath house broken into after closing, and a couple of reported attacks where the victims had marks on their necks. So far, Izuku’s new behaviors included sticking around the same area for about a week before moving on. With these latest cases only 3 days old in total, Bakugou knew they were a fresh lead.

“Yesterday, right?”

“Yes, the last burglary was in the afternoon while the homeowner was at work.” Using a paper map, the police officer showed Bakugou the location of the most recent burglary as well as two others over the last couple of days. It was very telling. The three places were centered around a 4-block radius. “If you are looking for hiding spots, there is an abandoned factory in that area. I’ll give you the address.”

“Thanks. I doubt they’d stay so close to the attack grounds, but I’ll check it out.” He didn’t want any of them following him.

It was still daylight, but Bakugou didn’t want to waste any time and risk his friend moving again after dark, heading straight for the dilapidated warehouse. The place looked like it had been emptied for a longtime. There was a rusted, chain link fence around the property, many broken windows, and weeds growing over the structure. Bakugou crept up to one of the windows, and heard nothing, so he moved slowly, quietly around the exterior paying close attention to any sounds or movements inside. But he heard nothing to indicate anything was there, not even an animal. Maybe it was another dead end, or maybe Midoriya was just sleeping. Un-phased, he moved inside the two-story building to make absolutely sure.

It took a while to search cautiously through the darkness, watching his step so not to step on anything or make a noise. The vastly open bottom floor was almost completely empty aside from a few left behind junk. So, Bakugou moved to the second floor where offices once were. Of all the areas, the top floor would provide the warmest cover, as well as quicker access to the roof. Like a trained tactical soldier, he cleared room after room, moving down the hallway that separated the individual offices, and one by one, eliminating them from the search. Finally, Bakugou reached the last one and heard the soft breathing of a sleeping person. Well, that meant two options, it’s just a homeless person or he’d finally caught his friend off guard.

Bakugou peered cautiously around the door frame. It was dark, but just enough light from a small window allowed his eyes to adjust quickly on a form lying down on the floor. Next to the person was a backpack, empty food containers strewn around, and possibly other items from the burglaries. There was also a make-shift hearth of broken bricks and a metal bowl with dark residue inside. He could even smell the light scent of soot mixed with burnt wood. ‘Gotcha!’ He smirked as he pocketed his flashlight and pulled out a special pair of handcuffs used to dampen quirks. It didn’t completely shut down a person’s quirk, but it kept them from using its full power. He was ready for Midoriya this time.

‘Almost there…’ he crept forward in a crouched manner ready to pounce like a predator stalking its prey in careful movements since he no longer had the flashlight out to see by. ‘Damn minefield,’ Bakugou grumbled as he navigated around the strewn mess of stuff the sleeping man had around him. ‘Almost there—'

*Crunch*

A piece of glass shattered below his boot, the sounds reverberating off the silent cement walls. “Shit!” Bakugou dove forward when Midoriya immediately popped up and tried to dash away. “Not this time nerd!”

“Waaahhhcchan!” Midoriya screamed as he was tackled to the floor. The two men fought, vying for footing, but the blonde kept them on the ground. Bakugou grabbed for and slapped one end of the handcuffs onto one of Midoriya’s wrists. “Nooo!” The man screamed.

“Not this time Deku! You ain’t getting away!”

Weakened by the cuff, Bakugou poured all his strength into jerking the disheveled man, flipping him onto his stomach, and tweaking his arm behind him into a wrist lock for leverage.

Midoriya screamed again from the pain, but nevertheless fought with all he had. Unfortunately, the cuffs were doing their job. “Please, Kacchan! Don’t do this!”

“Tough shit!” Bakugou snapped back and attached the other cuff to his own wrist. The effects would hamper them both, but “I dare you, nerd, you can’t beat me in a contemporary fight.” He was confident of such, having always been the physically stronger of the two regardless of quirk. “I’m taking you home!”

Midoriya wriggled, and tugged, but it was of no use. His friend had planted his feet, dropped his weight, and refused to budge. He didn’t want to risk exhausting himself and triggering a full-blown thirst like last time, so he stopped struggling.

After a few seconds, Bakugou got off the man and turned him over so he could sit up. Midoriya nursed his arm and rubbed at his wrist to soothe the pain. “Of course, I want to go home,” he sighed. “But it’s too dangerous Kacchan, why can’t you understand that?”

“Eri’s getting better every day, one day she’ll be able to control her quirk and fix you.”

“That’s not good enough. What are you gonna do, lock me up hoping she can fix me?! You saw what happened! Just like we eat food every day, I need blood, how are you gonna deal with that?!”

“Fine,” Bakugou shrugged, “we’ll hook you up to an IV and feed you blood when you need it.”

“No,” Midoriya started tugging again as tears flowed down his cheeks. “Please,” he begged, “this is too embarrassing, don’t you understand! I’ll never be able to be a hero again, my reputation will be ruined once everyone finds out! Hero society will look bad! It’s better I stay away!”

Frustrated with having his wrist yanked, Bakugou whipped his friend around and put him in a carotid choke hold. “Well, I’m not fucking leaving,” he spat, “so, we need to come up with a solution. Now stop fucking fighting me and get it through your head, the reality is I’m not going anywhere.”

Midoriya clawed at Bakugou’s arm trying to pull it away from his neck, but the man had it cinched in tight. If he kept struggling, he was bound to pass out. Exhausted, he finally relented and turned into a dead weight, sobbing quietly. “Why are you doing this, Kacchan… why?”

“Because a friend once told me I need to save to win, and right now you need to be saved for me to win.”

“Right? Win, I get it,” Midoriya narrowed his eyes along with tone. “This is an ego thing? You’ll take me back to show how you’re still better than me?” His heart didn’t believe those words, but as a coping mechanism, it did.

Bakugou let go of the man and shoved him so hard Midoriya face planted on the floor, stretching the handcuff chain to its limit. “I ought’a punch your lights out for saying that! I’m trying to win my friend back you asshole! You think I’d spend all this time chasing you if I didn’t care?!”

“Kacchan…” The man sighed and slowly propped himself back up. “There’s nowhere safe for me to go.”

Bakugou ignored the man and looked at his watch, noting the sun would have fully set by now. It might best to stay another night while he came up with a plan. “Tch, I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, behave or I will just knock you unconscious.”

“Fine, I won’t fight. But I do need to feed tonight.” Midoriya lifted his arm to flash the cuff. “Guess you’ll have to help me.”

“Why? You feeling the urge?” Midoriya nodded yes. “How can you tell?”

Midoriya thought about the answer for a minute before responding. “It’s like feeling dehydrated, maybe, at least in the beginning, but then it starts to get painful if I don’t feed it. I guess think of it like if you don’t eat for so long your stomach hurts— that’s what it’s like.”

“Sounds like it sucks.”

Midoriya snorted. “Understatement. It takes control of my mind by that point, almost as if it’s a survival instinct to protect itself.”

“Well, mister know it all. You ever heard of this kind of quirk before?”

“No,” Midoriya shook his head.

“Do the vestiges have anything to say about all this?”

Again, Midoriya shook his head.

Bakugou groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter for the current situation.” He looked up again fixing a stare at his friend. “So, what do you do to get the blood?”

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakudeku au #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #vampire quirk #katsudeku #ktdk #ch 7 #bloody passion #eventual smut

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siennahrobek · 3 years ago

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Future Past

19 BBY

Obi-Wan’s farewell to everyone he had left was rather numb.

He felt numb, even though he knew everything was breaking inside. It was all just movements and motions, barely thought provoking as he strode through the facilities of Polis Massa and later, Bail Organa’s ship. He felt like he was choking on air and nothing at all, breathing was difficult.

He only had a few minutes with Leia, and he had a feeling that he may never see her again. He almost wished he wouldn’t. He would love to, of course, because he loved her so much, but if he did, that probably meant she was in grave danger. He would go the rest of his entire life without seeing or talking with her again in exchange for her being safe and happy. That’s all he wanted.

That was all he had ever wanted for those he loved.

He wondered if he would ever stop failing.

Luke was set within a hospital cradle bed while Obi-Wan said his goodbyes to the tiny girl, the little shining light that should have been his family. Bail had assured she always would be, even if she never got to meet him again. Obi-Wan would be forever grateful that he had a friend in someone like Bail Organa.

Cradling Leia in his arms, she had paused from her constant wail and screeching, rather attempting to reach up and grab his beard. She had gotten a fistful but had not pulled too hard and he let her. Perhaps it was the start of a bad habit, Obi-Wan didn’t know, but he figured this would be the last time with him. Her hair was already a little mop upon her head, dried off with a soft towel. The color reminded him of Padme, especially when she had been younger. When Obi-Wan had met her during her teenage years and reign as Naboo Queen.

Rocking the child gently, he wrapped her up within part of his cloak, although a bit tattered and dirty. She didn’t seem to mind, one hand grasping his beard. She had taken his pointer finger with the other, tightening as much as her little grip would allow her.

He nearly tried to tug it away, but Leia’s face just scrunched up in determination as she held even tighter. Obi-Wan just found a chair to sit in. Perhaps this goodbye would be slightly longer. It was okay.

“I didn’t think babies much look like anyone in particular but you seem to look so much like your father. I know everyone would say your mother,” he started quietly. “But I know, I think. Perhaps I didn’t spend enough time with babies; I wish I did. Now…now they are all gone,” he whispered, lowering his head closer to hers. “Just you and Luke are the only younglings left. I am so sorry that you don’t have anyone else. But Bail will give you a good life, he will always do his best. That you can count on.”

Leia just gargled, blowing out little raspberries in his face. Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Anakin would have loved you so much. So would Padme. Once upon a time, you had wonderful parents, my dearest.”

One of her hands left his beard and traveled up to his cheek, patting it gently.

Something shifted on the ship and Obi-Wan could feel presences coming forward quickly. “I must leave you soon, darling,” he murmured and kissed her forehead. She didn’t have much strength in her tiny hands but what little she did, she tried to bring him closer. “This is my farewell to you; I know you will change the galaxy; it has always been your destiny. How you will do it is completely up to you. You will be beautiful and stronger than anyone else, don’t let a single person tell you otherwise.”

Leia just stared at him, her dark eyes wide and curious. Her fingers moved and curled around his singular pointer finger.

“May the Force be with you, dear Leia, always,” he whispered, projecting the one feeling he knew he wanted her to feel for the rest of her life. If she was to associate his presence with anything, he wanted her to feel this, know what he felt for her.

Complete, unadulterated and untainted love.

***

Leaving Polis Massa was harder than Obi-Wan had expected. Yoda left with little fanfare, a few words of wisdom and the notification about his old master’s presence, with more lessons to be taught. Obi-Wan had always been for learning, he was a seeker, not a saint. He loved to learn and to teach, to see and explore and study.

But for some reason, this felt more like an obligation.

He wondered what it would be like, feeling his presence and hearing his voice again. Qui-Gon Jinn’s. Obi-Wan had thought about him often but tried his very best to keep those memories happy and bright. To remember him in the best light he could.

The goodbye to Bail was a bit bitter, as he was taking away one of Obi-Wan’s loved ones, but he trusted Bail to treat her well. He didn’t think he could trust anyone else more with her. He seemed to understand, at least to some extent, and consistently reassured him of that his love and care for her.

They set up a contact system for the two, just in case. Obi-Wan hoped with all of his heart that it would never be the case. “If anything happens, contact me, Master Jedi,” Bail Organa insisted even going as forth to squeeze his shoulder as for reassurance.

“I will,” Obi-Wan promised, quietly. “Hopefully, that will not be necessary.”

Bail glanced at him, sympathetically and pressed a case in his hand. “There is some currency in there. It was a rush job, getting wuipipi and the transition isn’t exactly great, but it was what I could get on such short notice. If I can, I can try to send you more later.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bail,” Obi-Wan shook his head, keeping his voice quiet. A makeshift slung was created and looped around his neck and shoulders, baby Luke snuggled up closely to his chest. He shifted from foot to foot, hoping to keep the child asleep for at least a while longer. “We shouldn’t attract any more attention to ourselves than necessary. I will make do.”

“You always seem to have a way of surviving, Obi-Wan,” Bail nodded. “But if you need anything, just, try and let me know. I will always help you.”

“Thank you,” he dipped his head. “I should leave before anyone tracks us here. It has been quite some time.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Jedi,” Bail took a step back and bowed lightly.

Obi-Wan nodded, unable to risk such a gesture with Luke to his chest. “And with you, Senator. Be safe.”

He took a few more steps back. Obi-Wan turned and walked to his ship, or, rather, General Grievous’ old ship. He would get to a planet to sell it so he could receive passage to Tatooine. It would be quite the undertaking his imagined.

Bail had watched him leave, even after he had left the station, Luke and a few other supplies tucked away.

The next couple of weeks were spent selling the little ship and finding passage to the planet he needed. He had to work extra hard to find a buyer that would give him a fair amount, away from the new Imperials. His heart cracked a little more every time he saw the blank faces of the clone troopers, now in shifting armor. It was changing. Everything was changing.

He accepted them as family. The jedi had accepted them as family. They had tried so hard. Perhaps it wasn’t enough, but they had tried. Obi-Wan could eventually understand them wanting to shoot down generals, him especially, for how many had he brought to war? How many had he sent to their deaths with his plans in war. How many were sacrificed in the name of the greater good. He could understand their seething hatred for him. He was the one who had done that.

He had been the one who led them.

He could accept that.

He would have gratefully and happily given his life in exchange.

If that was what they had demanded.

But they had marched on the Temple. There were few warriors in the sacred place. In their home. There was the elderly, who had spent a lifetime helping people, who had no part in the war and never had. There was the injured and sick, helpless to fight back. There was no reason to murder them. There was…there was the children, the younglings, the babies.

He couldn’t imagine the clone troopers they had trusted so much to have gone to their home and massacred all of their children. Their babies: those who didn’t do anything wrong, nothing to them. Who didn’t know better.

The youngest baby at the Temple had been three months old.

She had been even smaller than Luke in his arms.

He had seen her, or, at least, what was left of her.

The thought of it nearly made him throw up and his throat gagged at the thought. Tears swelled up in his eyes and suddenly, they were streaming down his cheeks, steadily.

He tried to stop, he wanted to stop. There were other people on the ship, being smuggled across the galaxy. It wasn’t there were many; as there wasn’t, but there was enough to notice. He choked back a sob, trying to stay as quiet as he could.

He could feel their stares.

A warm hand barely brushed up against his cheek. Trying to will the tears away, he blinked several times and glanced down. Luke was awake, bright blue eyes staring up at him, wide and curious. He murmured something unintelligible and reached up again. Obi-Wan lowered his head down to grant Luke better access. The baby just giggled and waved his hand over the older man’s face, apparently liking the texture.

After so many hyperspace trips of crying and wailing from the cold, it was nice to have a moment of quiet.

“Isn’t that a rather darling boy,” an older Mirilan woman cooed, leaning over to glance at the bundle against Obi-Wan’s chest. “You and the missus must be very happy and proud.”

“He’s not mine actually,” the words tumbled out of Obi-Wan’s mouth before his mind could catch up. “He’s my brother’s, but he and his wife are…they can’t take care of him anymore. We are going to a planet with more family.”

“I am so sorry,” the woman said, sympathetically. It laced her voice into something that made his heart crack. He hadn’t felt that from someone else in quite some time.

The woman was pleasant and even helpful for the rest of this leg of the trip, even snapping at other passengers when Luke’s wailing got too loud, in their defense. She scooted closer sometimes, her presence bringing some comfort to the baby; perhaps because she was a female. Obi-Wan knew that babies tended to bond with females closer due to the nature of their relationships.

When they parted ways, she gave him a little knitted hat for Luke…and then even one for Obi-Wan. He hadn’t even seen her make it, but he took them gratefully. They had fit perfectly.

The weeks were long and difficult, hopping from one smugglers ship to another, doing his very best to avoid the imperials but, eventually, he got himself to Tatooine. There was some investigating he had to do, in search of Anakin’s family. He had known that his mother had been freed not terribly long after Anakin had left; a reason why when Padme sent one of her handmaidens to free her, she hadn’t been able to be found.

Ben had picked up a few things from Quinlan, as his old friend was into more investigative and shadow work. He had even done a few of them with him. Ben wondered if the Kiffar was even still alive. Everyone else he loved was dead.

Although Shmi had passed away a few years ago and not terribly long after, her husband, Cliegg, her stepson and daughter-in-law still held up their moisture farm out in the deserts. Ben had eventually learned this, but it had taken some time. He found refuge wherever he could but unfortunately, most places to stay temporarily were around, above or connected to bars. And there were a lot of bars around the planet, especially in the city.

He supposed they had to do something to pick themselves up on such a wretched planet.

It had only been a couple of days since he and Luke had finally arrived at the planet of his family’s origins. Or at least, what was left of his family. It was the cheapest place, but it wasn’t a beautiful hotel either and it was, of course, above a bar. Luke didn’t seem to mind the noise, even trying to clap with some of the music sometimes and the heat didn’t seem to bother him. It was the cold that he really hated.

Ben had been scouting the bar, Luke strapped to his chest, playing with a little toy he had made during their travels. He loved that thing, for reasons Ben couldn’t quite understand.

He wasn’t sure how it had started or who started it or why but of course, with his luck, he ended up in a bar fight.

A bar fight.

With baby Luke strapped tightly to his chest.

Although he certainly disliked being the warrior that he was, Ben was grateful for his education, capacity and competence in the martial and combatant arts. The bar had ended up in an uproar and Ben had restrained himself from pulling out his lightsaber. For the moment he did, he would reveal himself as a Jedi. The destruction of the Order was too new, the bounty on Jedi head too high, for him to make that risk just yet.

The Empire may not have gotten to Tatooine yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Ben had been extremely careful when fighting off brawlers. None of them could particularly fight well so taking them down or avoiding their blows was probably the easiest thing Ben had done in years.

He had nearly been the last one standing. Any others had fled.

Apologizing to the bar keep, he tried to get away, but the Rhodian just laughed, loud and hearty. Ben didn’t quite understand but he wasn’t one to look a gift Tooka in the mouth.

Eventually, he had gotten enough information to buy a steady eopie and start his travels to the Lars homestead.

His heart ached. He knew he was dreading the hours to come.

And honestly, he nearly turned back.

He didn’t know these people. He had never even met these people before. He wasn’t even sure if Anakin had met these people before. To put Luke in their hands may…may have been safer from the Empire, but would it be safer with them? Were they good people? Would they teach Luke well or would they teach him to be resentful and have hate in his heart?

It had taken hours to get to the homestead, even on the strength of the eopie, but Ben had just mulled over this continuously. His heart was breaking, and his chest felt like it was going to be ripped open. Luke was fairly quiet, only babbling softly once in a while and trying to grab at anything near Ben that he could, generally his hair or his beard.

It was sunset when he had finally saw the homestead.

And he nearly turned back.

Giving Luke away was amongst the hardest things Ben had ever done and all he could give him was projecting the strongest feeling he had for the boy and once in a while, throughout the years, small little hand carved wooden ship toys, that he would leave on his grandmother’s grave.

***

The Lars couple, Owen and Beru, were good people. Even Ben could feel that.

Owen just hated him.

He wasn’t exactly subtle in his feelings either. No matter what Ben tried to do over the years, to help, to protect, anything, Owen lashed out at him, blaming him for the death of his stepbrother.

Stepbrother, Ben thought. How could a man be so angry and hate him so much on the behalf of someone he didn’t even know. Ben had spent over thirteen years with Anakin, training and raising and loving him. If Owen had met Anakin, it must have been very brief, and probably only once.

Ben tried not to be resentful.

He found an abandoned little hut cave out in the Judland Wastes, far enough for Owen’s liking but close enough that he could keep a feel for any dangerous the Lars may face over the years. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He didn’t mind. He never needed much anyways.

He had always wanted a peaceful place out of the way to spend his time meditating.

It took Ben quite a bit of time to open up to hearing Qui-Gon’s voice.

It took even longer for Ben to accept his tutelage.

But, like everything else Qui-Gon had ever asked of him, he did so.

18 BBY

It had taken Ben bare a few months to start protecting the Lars and surrounding areas and farms from Tusken Raiders and Jabba’s men. The Tuskens, although ritually and historically furious at the offworlders (even though technically many of them were born on the planet now) taking over their planet and taking their water, had been easier to work with. Once he had figured out some of their language, it was easier to communicate. He always had a knack for languages, he knew. Not only did he learn to be fascinated with them and cultures in general, but when working with and travelling with someone like Qui-Gon Jinn, one had to learn to apologize and ask not to be killed in nearly every foreign language of every planet they had been on.

Because if there was one thing that Qui-Gon Jinn very often did, it was making trouble.

It was exhausting but in the end, Ben had learned a valuable skill and found an enjoyable hobby of learning new languages.

Learning the Tusken sign language wasn’t too difficult, but what had really gotten them to be more open to negotiating was simply a test of strength and prowess. Ben, as much as he was loathed to admit it, was a warrior in the end. And to that point, he could take down near anyone on the planet just with his experience, knowledge and training.

The Tuskens had learned that quickly and ended up leaving him alone.

But it didn’t protect Luke.

That would happen a few months later. One of the Tusken tribes had been having a terrible time with a krayt dragon, a native beast to the planet and one that was said to be even force-sensitive in some cultures. Ben didn’t know if it was true, but the Tuskens were losing people and had resorted to taking others from outside the tribe as sacrifices.

This, of course, had put Luke in grave danger. Whether it had been that year or any year in the future. The Tuskens at first, were skeptical, with his offer to become the next sacrifice, but in the end, his manipulation worked.

The Krayt dragon was a bit bigger than Ben had heard from the stories, but its ferocity was no small thing. But, in the end, Ben had always had a small talent for bonding with beasts of all kinds and in the end, the krayt dragon was no different.

He had sent her on her way with the quiet request to leave them alone.

He wouldn’t reveal what had happened between the two of them, or how the communication went, but he came back in one peace, telling the Tuskens that the dragon would leave them alone, but they had to leave the locals alone as well, for if they didn’t, they would be responsible for their actions. This in turn, protected most of the people around the Lars homestead, including Luke and any friends he may have in the future.

Sometimes, when Ben meditated out in the middle of nowhere, he could feel the rumbling of the dragon under the shifting sands.

14 BBY

Once upon a time, all Ben wanted was to sit in a quiet cave and meditate.

Now, five years later, he just wished he could be back. Even if it was the war, as horrible as that time was, the Jedi would still be around, he could still feelthem and he would have the loyalty and care of his troops, even if it did end up being fake.

Tatooine, at least with its terrain, wasn’t the worst Ben had ever encountered. Yes, the sand got everywhere but it never seemed quite as course and rough and irritating as Anakin had made it out to be. The storms were terrible, don’t get Ben wrong, and he disliked them quite passionately. Sand stung at his eyes, whipping at his skin mercilessly. It was a pain.

But lying in the sand when there was little wind, just a gentle breeze, not enough to stir the land, he could feel some peace. Sinking into the soft grains and able to let everything else melt away.

He just wished it could have been sand in the Jedi Temple, surrounded by loved ones and the light of the Force.

11 BBY

He was too late.

He was always too late.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was even surprised anymore.

Because it seemed, in the end, he would always to be too late. He would always be not quite fast enough, not quite smart enough, simply not quite enough. Never quite enough.

It wasn’t exactly the Force that gave him the warning, but it did give him awarning.

Let’s just put it to rest that he now believed the krayt dragons were force sensitive.

Plenty.

Ben’s eopie was old now but she did her very best to get to the Lars homestead as quickly as she could. She gave it her all, that was for certain. Ben remembered him cursing himself for letting Owen force him to live further away, further from Luke, further from the homestead. If he had lived closer, perhaps things would have ended up differently.

The Empire had come to Tatooine barely the year before and Ben had done a fairly good job of keeping out of the way.

But somehow, for some reason, they suddenly had it out for the Lars family.

And whoever sent them, they sent clones.

Ben felt only sympathy for the soldiers as he cut them down in defense of Luke. Owen and Beru were already gone, sprawled over the floor, bleeding and glassy eyed. He had let go of his bitterness and anger quite some time before. It was no use. What was done was done. No one could change anything. And revenge, even being not the Jedi way, would do nothing for Ben. It wouldn’t bring the Jedi back. It wouldn’t bring the younglings and babies back.

There was no satisfaction when he fought them.

Although, honestly, it wasn’t much of a fight.

For the first time in years, as Ben bundled shocked Luke up in his cloak and robes, grabbing some of his things, worrying over the fact that more may come, he had ended up contacting Bail Organa.

Ben knew Luke didn’t remember much of that time and in all honesty, neither did Ben himself. It was like going through some slogging motions, but Bail had come on his word and sent him a nondescript space craft.

Ben had sold it and bought a different one. Just in case.

Everything had changed now, and he knew things were never going to be as simple as it had been on Tatooine. No matter where they went, no matter where they would go.

Luke was eight or nine, Ben had thought, musing to himself. Was it ironic, that it was around the age Ben had started teaching Anakin?

Was the outcome to be similar?

Or was Ben to lose yet another Skywalker?

He supposed, like nearly all things, only time would tell.

Present Past

Ben

His head is full.

Awakening was a cloggy mess and a sluggish, laborious process, like trudging through the impossible terrain of the Dagobah swamplands. His feet felt as if he had to relearn rudimentary functions and relearn them in a hurry. The Force pressed against him, light and warm and impatient. Taking the largest and longest inhale he was capable of, he forced himself to open his eyes and then sit up. Step one complete.

Rolling his shoulders and arms indistinctively, he noted they felt sore but lighter than usual, cleaned of sand and grime. The cracking of joints he had been so used to hearing every time he moved, especially after sleep, had ceased significantly.

Looking down, he caught sight of his hands, encased in lack gloves. He hadn’t worn gloves with fingers attached much anymore, he thought absentmindedly. He wondered where they had come from. Bringing them closer in his sight, he studied them further. These were standard issue GAR gloves. And attached to the standard issue GAR gloves was standard issue clone trooper vambraces. These had not worn these in years, certainly not by him. He still remembered the day he had to sell his armor pieces which included the vambraces. His finger trailed up one of his arms through a groove in the plastoid, up to the scratched and slightly faded paint in the middle. His breath caught as he lightly traced the open circle symbol.

Taking a deep breath to fill his lungs, he attempted to stand, keeping a firm grip on the cot and tried to steady himself. His legs were a bit weak and his head a bit dizzy – adding to the full feeling in his mind, but it only took a few minutes to regain his balance and equilibrium.

Even sixteen years later, the medical bay of a venator was still familiar to him as he looked around at his surroundings. Now, what did that say about him? Taking a tentative step forward, his feet slowly started to move and took him to the lavatory, where he filled a cup of water and guzzled it down. Running a hand through the water from the faucet, he raked it slowly through his hair and down his face.

He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t know why. But he did anyways.

There was not a time he could remember having seen himself with so much color. Color in his hair, color in his skin, color in his eyes. His hair had brightened, no longer bleached by nearly ten years under the twin suns of a desert planet, a mix of blonde and brown and ginger. His greying and stretched skin were once again flush with pigment and peach colors. Eyes that were usually tired and dull and grey had a stone blue color come back to them. The wrinkles on his face had lessened considerably. Taking another deep breath, he stepped back to study himself. Amor parts were stuck to his body, not just the vambraces but the pauldrons and gorget and greaves as well. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed this; the mix of soft robes and the protection of the pauldron, the vambraces, the greaves. He should have worn them when he had fought Grievous, he mused.

He was dressed for battle, for war. It was not quite how he was during the beginning of the war, but more of the middle of the fighting, a bit into the skirmishes and conflicts. Hands trailing down the armor and robes, they came down to his belt and the clip that was attached there. His lightsaber wasn’t on his belt. He wasn’t particularly worried.

He sighed, unsure of what to make of this.

In the mirror, it was him, for sure. It looked like Obi-Wan, but he knew he was Ben.

Quinlan

Quinlan wondered how this invasion had gone through the first time.

He felt rather out of place throughout the entirety of the incursion. He was present for the briefings, barely putting in his two cents, generally when it came to anything resembling sneak attacks or espionage. The Resolute and the Negotiator had both broken through the Separatist blockade with surprising and remarkable ease, swiftly rendezvousing with General Tiin’s venator and his forces. He was on his own ship, calling most of the shots as the most senior available general present, and directing the battle within the space around the planet. Although Master Tiin portrayed mostly calm during his calls with the other leaders coming to help him, he looked determined but still a bit rattled and definitely tired. General Krell was on the surface, getting battered down by the local militia. His communications kept cutting in and out, but he demanded reinforcements.

That would come in the form of the 501st, much to Skywalker’s displeasure.

Quinlan could understand, to an extent. He had worked with some clones before, but he didn’t have his own battalion or legion or squad. He would work with whoever was on hand and whoever could work on his current mission, if anyone. But he did know that many of the generals were rather protective of their respective troopers. Not only did generals often get used to the type of troopers and personalities, but troopers themselves often got used to the type of leadership style their general had and often tailored their ways and plans around that. Switching up leaders and troops didn’t always work out incredibly well, especially with invasions and long campaigns.

Commander Cody would leave Quinlan, taking much of his forces of the 212th down to the surface with him. Not to reinforce Krell and his side attack, marching for the Capitol, but rather to assault from the other side and box the Umbarans in. It was a good plan that Commander Cody had come up with, although by the look on his face, General Krell clearly wasn’t entirely convinced. Quinlan apparently had a lot more faith in the commander than Krell did, which seemed rather odd considering Quinlan probably had a lot less experience with the clone troopers.

Just as Master Windu had claimed, Anakin Skywalker himself would lead fighters to pick off the forces in space and if needed, provide direction for the bombers, if necessary, on the surface below.

Anakin himself would lead much of the space fighters as well as the bombers for the surface below. Quinlan had heard plenty about how great of a pilot Anakin was and how much he loved to fly. He found it rather amusing since, once upon a time, Obi-Wan himself had felt the same way. It was almost interesting on how things changed.

Quinlan felt uncomfortable and odd in the position he was in, standing on the bridge of his best friend’s ship, trying to help and order out calls that would bring them closer to victory. He was used to small forces, sneaking around with more missions that included investigating and espionage; it was something that he was good at now. Undercover, intelligence. He was usually the one giving the Generals advice and plans; next and vital places to hit or defend. He wished Obi-Wan was awake.

His friend was much better at this sort of thing.

“Let me know when Obi-Wan wakes up?” Anakin asked gruffly as Quinlan escorted him to his fighter. They had talked a bit on what would happen as time went on after the briefings and breaking easily through the blockade, and Skywalker hadn’t been exactly intently keen on leaving his master to fight in space as much as it was fairly obvious that he was eager on flying.

“Focus on the mission,” Quinlan answered instead, trying to sound like he could give good advice. Somehow, he always felt like this was easier with Aalya. Maybe it was because she wanted to hear his advice and actually tried to listen to him sometimes. “Keep your attention in the here and now. Obi-Wan is safe and he would want you to be too. At least, as much as you can be in this scenario. If you worry too much, it could put you and your men in jeopardy.”

“Fine,” Anakin huffed.

“I’m sure you will be one of the first people he will want to see when he does wake up,” Quinlan pointed out and then paused briefly. “And figures out that he has time traveled.”

Anakin shifted uncomfortably as he glanced at the Kiffar master. He looked rather uncertain, most likely about this entire thing. “If that’s what happened.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I’m just saying that it might… not be the case,” he pointed out, a bit slowly, watching Quinlan like he could get all the answers that way. Quinlan couldn’t really tell what the knight was thinking, for someone so passionate and emotional, sometimes he could be hard to read. Maybe because there always seemed to be toomuch emotion there. Did Anakin not want Luke to be right?

“Luke is telling the truth,” Quinlan answered and looked for Anakin’s reaction. There was very little to work with, he just kind of stared. “However,” Quinlan shot back, gravely. “It is not a bright future.”

He looked away, his brows furrowing. “Well, if it is time travel… then we can change it,” Anakin suggested in some form of insistence, but he didn’t seem too sure on what to think about this. Quinlan thought back to their earlier conversation how their friend may have changed. It wasn’t exactly something either of them wanted to think about too hard. “Obi-Wan won’t be on the run again.”

“We will try our best,” Quinlan agreed carefully. There were no absolutes, no guarantees. He didn’t want to make the future worse but with what he had learned from Luke, he wasn’t sure if that was possible. It was, deep in his heart he knew it was, but he couldn’t quite imagine them changing things so poorly, knowing what they knew, and it coming out even worse than the future that Obi-Wan and Luke knew.

“Is he still with Obi-Wan?”

“Luke?” Quinlan asked before his brain could catch up with his mouth. Of course, that was what he meant, and Quinlan knew it. His mouth just ran off with him. “Yes. I figured if he just stayed there, it would keep him out of trouble.”

Anakin hummed but didn’t seem completely convinced. They had arrived at the docking bay were fighters and their pilots were doing last checks before they would head out and join General Tiin’s forces. Anakin’s togruta padawan shouted and waved him over. Anakin glanced at her with a gesture before turning back towards Quinlan. “That is my cue. See you at the end of this, Vos.”

“May the Force be with you,” Quinlan nodded.

“And with you, master,” Anakin winked.

Ben 2

Regaining his complete composure and erasing the wrinkles within his equanimity and clothes alike, Ben glanced around the medical bay just to sate his curiosity. The door wasn’t locked, medicine and tools, even ones that could conceivably be used as a weapon were not taken away or padlocked and sealed away. Pulling on his boots and making sure his greaves went over them, he simply just walked out the door. The venator and star destroyers were not completely different but there had always been noticeable differences. Whoever was doing this certainly did a good job of restoring the old Republic ship. If Ben didn’t know better, he would have even thought that this was his own flagship, the Negotiator.

It even feltlike the Negotiator.

He nearly felt dreadful for feeling like he missed it. He walked down the halls, they were mostly vacant, although Ben couldn’t say he was terribly surprised. Whoever had set this up did a remarkable job with the ship itself but finding any clones, especially ones that would be willing for this little charade would have been more than just a little difficult. There was also the little obstacle that the clones looked quite a bit older now than they had during the war. All the same, he avoided those that were through the halls, although there weren’t many. They were even dressed in clone trooper armor, much to Ben’s bitter surprise. The armor type itself was a rare find these days.

Often finding himself running his hand along the smooth walls, Ben could only feel mournful. It was a terrible time, the war, of course. He abhorred what they had to do, even though he knew it was right. To protect. He hated what they had been forced to do, he couldn’t stand that he had to lead people such as the clone troopers to their deaths. There was no choice on any end and then, once it was all said and done and the jedi and cloens had done their part, they had been just disposed of.

And no one had even cared.

The Jedi had been exterminated, murdered by those they tried to protect and those they had loved as family.

The clones had been brainwashed and enslaved, stripped of their minds and free will and forced to kill the people that cared about them and loved them as family. Then slowly, as the programming ate away at their mind and psyche, they were killed off on desolate planets as canon fodder and sacrifices.

Tears swelled up in his eyes, his feelings bubbling up in his chest and mind, pressing, pressing, pressing against him in such a terrible friction that he couldn’t get away from. He had tried not to think too hard on what he had lost for some time, there was no use on thinking about it so much. No use on dwelling on things one could not change. No matter how much he wanted to. If he could change anything, what he would give.

Ben hadn’t even realized he had stopped, leaning against the wall, his forehead cooling against the metal of the hallway barriers. He took deep breathes but it didn’t seem like enough. Nothing felt enough.

Sometimes he regretted forcing Boil to leave them. Luke had loved him and having another person around had done wonders for him. Boil was a friendly face, despite how grumpy he often acted during the war, and his skill and loyalty was somethings Ben had always admired from him. He remembered the clone’s desperation, begging him to stay, giving all the reasons he could be useful.

As if usefulness was the reason Ben would have wanted him alone.

Ben knew that it was much too dangerous. Vader would just take another loved one away from him and Luke was in danger enough as it was. But he couldn’t keep Luke away like he could with Boil. He hadn’t been able to subject Boil to the life he was forced to lead, running from and fighting off someone as the likes of Darth Vader.

He still regretted it sometimes though. It had been so nice to have someone else around.

Ben hoped he was happy with Rex. Happy wherever he was, with whoever he was with.

“Sir?” an achingly familiar voice asked, uncertainly.

He sighed and turned, still leaned against the wall. In front of him was a clone trooper, mostly within armor sans his helmet, which was hanging on his belt. With a fairly standard haircut, his face was void of tattoos, but he sported a small scar near the hairline. A bit of scruff was starting to come in around his chin.

“Hello there, trooper,” he greeted, pleasantly. There was no need to be mean to any of these actors or constructs. It was an incredible likeness, he noted. Whoever or whatever this was, the resemblance was uncanny. “May I inquire your name?”

“Seven, sir,” the trooper saluted, perfectly. “But most brothers call me Sev. You can, if you want. O-Or not, that’s fine too. I don’t have much of a preference,” he rambled, shrinking back and a little with a slight flush to his cheeks.

“Thank you, Sev. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

He didn’t remind Ben at all of Alpha-17, but his name had made his mind call back to him. Ben wondered what may have happened to the old captain. Was he stripped away of his free – and very strong – will and forced to become nothing but a droid made of flesh and bone, bowing to the whim of a government and military that used him like he wasn’t even a person? Ben had a hard time thinking the programing and brainwashing would even work on Alpha-17, just because of who he was, how independent and intense he could be. But then again, Ben mused, it had completely erased Cody’s steadfast loyalty and determination, it had taken everything from one of the strongest people Ben had known.

The trooper hesitated; eyeing Ben like he wasn’t sure if he should speak. “Are you alright, sir?”

“Just a little tired,” he admitted. “I’m not entirely sure where I am.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that. Sev certainly seemed to have an idea.

Sev straightened and brightened a little. “I can help you sir! I know this ship like nobody else! Don’t get me wrong, I fight a lot, I do my part! But I don’t sit still very well so when I’m not in the field, I’m going around the ship. Sorry, I’m kinda rambling again aren’t I. I can take you to the bridge, sir, if that is where you want to go. I mean, I’d imagine you would want, considering we are in the middle of a battle, but you know, ya never know…”

Although he continued to ramble, Ben’s hearing faded. In the middle of a battle? How did one construct that? It seemed a little extreme in attempt to convince him.

“That would be nice, Sev. Thank you,” he announced suddenly, breaking whatever sentence the trooper was in the middle of. “I would love your help, mind escorting me?”

The soldier nodded, eagerly and Ben straightened, launching himself to stand next to the youngster. He offered his arm. “I’m just a bit unsteady, would you mind?”

“Of course, sir!” Sev nodded and wove his arm through Ben’s so the older man could lean on him if wanted or if he fell, Sev could easily catch him. He took a careful step, just to make sure that Ben could move with him. Ben wasn’t sure if he had surprised the trooper or not but their steps in time got quicker to a normal, but abit brisk, pace.

Few soldiers that they had passed, as limited as there were even, batted an eye, although many of them had their faces covered in helmets. He wondered, although a bit absentmindedly, where one had gotten all these actors to play their parts in such armor.

He wanted to reach out into the Force, if only to try and feel the unwavering and constant calm he knew that had once practically oozed, the sense of loyalty that made him truly believe that they would always be by his side, no matter what they had gone through, no matter what they would go through. Once upon a time, he had taken such comfort in knowing he had such good men watching his back, and his sides and he, theirs.

Closing his eyes briefly, he imagined him feeling it, but he didn’t reach out. He couldn’t be disappointed like that again when he didn’t feel it, when all he would feel was the murky, cold harshness of the dark side, smothering all good things.

“It’s good to see you up and at ‘em sir!” another soldier greeted as he passed. Ben opened his eyes and trailed him. He sounded like a trooper too.

He tried not to think too hard on it.

“Oh wow! General, you are up! You gave us just a tad bit of worry there,” yet another clone they passed spoke as he slowed his gait. “We weren’t that worried, we had complete faith in Helix and that you would wake up.”

He sounded like a trooper too.

Something felt caught in his throat.

“Are you alright, sir?” Sev asked, shooting him a concerned glance.

It felt so real. He could almost feel the trooper’s concern in the Force. Ben pulled back. No, he wouldn’t go through that again. Even if there weretroopers here, even if Sev was somehow a clone from back in the war days, there wouldn’t really be anything to feel if did reach.

He wanted to reach.

“I am fine, thank you,” he replied politely.

It was mostly silence from then on to the bridge but Sev had pause to swipe his card for the door open so they could get inside. Ben had stopped and took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was on the other side. He didn’t believe he would like it.

***

Quinlan 2

“Which system are we currently in, Admiral?”

Out of all the things Quinlan had expected to hear at that very moment, Obi-Wan’s voice was not anywhere near the top of the list. In fact, for a moment, he had even thought that it had been just him hearing things, maybe some wishful thinking. But no, looking over – everyone looking over – Quinlan’s childhood friend stood at attention nearing the front of the bridge, gazing out at the space battle before them.

“Obi-Wan!” he yelped, wide- eyed as he reached for him. Everyone turned to look at him, surprised and shocked.

Obi-Wan shifted away from him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Hmm,” he hummed, dryly. “Fascinating.” Then he turned back, no longer interested, towards the admiral and other troops at the helm. He looked tired, even more so than when he was asleep or in his unexplainable coma, but he held himself the way Quinlan had always seen him carry himself during the war, or when he had been with politicians, even before the war had started.

Next to him was a young trooper, face and armor barely marked or scuffed up. Either he was extremely new, or he just kept his armor nice and clean. It could have been either, if Quinlan was being honest.

“This is Seven,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the clone that he was attached to. It was a matter of fact, as his tone had been thus far. There was no room for debate for whatever reason. “Harm or touch him, I will take off your heads.”

That…was not a threat that one heard from Obi-Wan very often but by the way he said it, Quinlan had believed him. He was, in fact, quite good at relieving appendages. The stares had gotten even wider and incredulous. Even Seven’s expression was shocked as he stood still with the general. Quinlan was impressed; he figured most would have tried to flee by then.

But then again, Obi-Wan was threatening for Seven, not at him.

“Hey buddy,” Quinlan lowered his voice, as if trying to placate him. He kept his hands a bit casual but open where Obi-Wan could see them. He knew that something would happen when Obi-Wan woke up, although he hadn’t been sure what and he had thought that he wouldn’t have woken up now, of all times. He was probably just confused. “Look, Obes. It’s me, Quinlan Vos, your friend.”

“I know who that is,” Obi-Wan scoffed.

“Alright cool,” Quinlan nodded. “So, you were in this unexplainable coma for a bit, not super long. Not even a day really, but it did kind of freak people out.”

“I would request your hallucination end, please,” Obi-Wan interrupted, his voice cold as steel his eyes flashing in reflection of that. “I am aware of what is happening, and I am telling you, it is not necessary.

And wasn’t Obi-Wan just full of surprises today. Time travel, new padawans, and now belief that this was a delusion or mirage.

“This…this isn’t a hallucination, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan sputtered, trying his best to keep his disbelief under control. It was rather uncharacteristic of him but the thought that his friend didn’t think any of this was real, it broke his heart more than he would dare to admit. It was such a contrast between Luke’s sure thinking and Obi-Wan’s intense cynicism and skepticism.

“Oh yes, I’m sure,” Obi-Wan just hummed, his words biting on sarcasm, but he didn’t even glance over at Quinlan. “This is very real, Sidious. That is fine. You probably used this battle thinking you could use it to torture me and one of my great many failures. But the joke is on you, emperor, I will move forward to save as many lives as I can, even as this is an illusion.”

“You think…you think I am a Sith,” Quinlan’s response ended up falling a bit flat, somewhere between an observation and a question. He wasn’t completely in on all of the Council’s theories and findings but knowing one of the Sith’s name was something that higher level shadows knew, especially those who were investigating it. It appeared, from how Obi-Wan was acting, he knew exactly who that person was.

That was going to change everything.

“Hmm. Well, Vader would certainly not care for this type for mind manipulation,” Obi-Wan pointed out plainly, tightening his grip ever so slightly on his clone companion. “He is much rather the type to just torture and kill me. Especially me. You understand. So yes, Sidious.”

“Why is he me, specifically?” Quinlan asked. He knew who Vader was and the fact that he did made what Obi-Wan said all the more horrifying. What could have possibly been done for Anakin Skywalker to absolutely loathe and abhor Obi-Wan, someone he was generally fairly possessive of?

“My first wartime assignment with Master Vos was the hunt for Ziro the Hutt, which you should know, since it was public record,” Obi-Wan listed, calmly. He seemed a little irate, however, like he didn’t want to explain something that shouldn’t have to be explained. “And I remember any other times I’ve worked with him after that. It was not on a planetary campaign such as this,” he paused, his brows furrowing as he seemed to think more about what he was saying. “…what system is this trooper?” Obi-Wan suddenly asked, his question turning kind and soft as he directed it towards one of the nearby clones.

The clone glanced between the two of them. “Umbara, sir.”

“Master Vos,” Obi-Wan replied confidently, still continuing with the bite of sarcasm. He would have been nearly proud if his friend hadn’t been disillusioned by what was happening and thought that this wasn’t real. “Had not been present at the invasion of…” he stopped abruptly and stared at the planet through the viewing board, his arm dropping from the clone trooper he had been hanging onto.

“Obi-Wan?” Quinlan questioned, taking a small step forward.

“Umbara,” he whispered, breathy and horrified. His pupils dilated and his brows scrunched up into something of dread, like this was worse than he was imagining. Something terrible happened here, Quinlan could see.

“Sir?” Sev questioned, nearly poking at him to get his attention.

“Where are my troops?” Obi-Wan seemed to drop from his trance just as quickly as it had come and asked instead, his voice low and demanding, his gaze sweeping along the entourage of clone troopers at their stations.

“Obi-Wan?” Quinlan tried again.

“Where is Commander Cody and the 212th? Where is Lieutenant Waxer and his platoon?” Obi-Wan barked, his lip curling in the demand, eyes flaring into something of pressure, importance, and panic.

“On the surface sir,” a trooper replied quickly, sensing the urgency. “They’re launching a strike against the capitol. They intend to box the natives in alongside General Krell with the 501st once the latter take the airbase nearby that is supplying the capitol.”

Obi-Wan’s face completely paled, nearly devoid of color as he seemed to fall into that trance again. It lasted even less time this round as his diminished face did something odd, nearly darkening alongside his eyes, which had turned absolutely stony and cold. “Krell.”

The name had sent shivers down Quinlan’s spine. It wasn’t the name itself; he knew, Quinlan barely even recognized the name aside from his position in this invasion, but the way Obi-Wan had said it? Quinlan suddenly wanted to rip the besalisk’s head off. Which, even for Quinlan, that was rather extreme. He quickly realized that the feeling was coming from Obi-Wan. Something happened with General Krell and Obi-Wan did not appreciate him for it.

“Sir?” the trooper who had answered him, queried.

“Get me General Krell,” Obi-Wan demanded, his lip curling. “Get communications up with him immediately.”

“Sir, we can’t,” the brave trooper shook his head, biting his lip a little. It wasn’t exactly fear emanating off of him; Quinlan had yet to find a trooper that truly feared for themselves when it came to their general, but it was something else. Fear for the situation, perhaps. “The local militia has cut off communications, we can barely get anything through, barely a few words, much less consistent transmission.”

Obi-Wan cursed loudly in a language Quinlan wasn’t completely familiar with. The other troopers looked vaguely uncomfortable and glanced away. Perhaps they recognized it.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan stared, as he stepped even closer. “Calm down. We can figure this out, whatever it is,” he said, trying to placate his friend when he…he noticed something was not quite right with this. He paused and straightened himself, looking around, curiously. This…this didn’t make sense. Where was… “Wait. How are you up anyways?” he asked, his brows scrunching up together in confusion. “I thought Luke was supposed to be with you?”

His friend stiffened and for the longest moment nothing happened. It was as if time itself had just completely shut down. Obi-Wan’s head swiveled around slowly towards him until finally, Quinlan abruptly found himself pinned to an open wall.

Everyone around them had jumped but didn’t dare make a move.

“How do you know that name?”

His voice was low and deadly. Quinlan hadn’t heard that since…since Anakin had been kidnapped when he was a teenager. It had not been a pretty time and Quinlan had nearly been the only other person who could keep Obi-Wan from completely destroying everything in the way of him and his padawan. Quinlan hadn’t thought he would ever hear that tone again.

“Obes….” Quinlan struggled out. Obi-Wan wasn’t choking him, per say, but his grip was enough that Quinlan didn’t dare to even try to move away with his friend’s armor digging into his chest. He didn’t actually think Obi-Wan would do anything to harm him and schooled his body to quiet himself. “Calm down, he appeared…. he appeared with you.”

Quinlan wished he had better words to explain.

“What have you done with him?”

“Nothing, Obi,” Quinlan stressed as he even leaned forward into his space. He stared straight at him, serious as he had ever been with this childhood friend of his. “I swear nothing. He hasn’t left your side since we found you.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment. He seemed to believe him and found something in his gaze so let him go and cursed again, although less loudly this time around. He looked back at the troopers and then surveyed the battlefield of space in front of him. “Umbara. Boil. Waxer,” he muttered to himself as he came to some realization. He straightened again and took another quick glance around before spewing out some words and orders that Quinlan didn’t quite understand. The others on the bridge certainly did and they took it completely to heart, using the communications to lay out a different plan of attack and defense than what was used previously.

Apparently, the plan must have been a good one.

Quinlan wondered if it was the same one Obi-Wan had used the first time.

No one dared to move when he stormed off the bridge, the only one immediately following being Seven, the clone trooper that had brought Obi-Wan in. The jedi had given the trooper a gentle tug and he had assumed that meant he had wanted Seven to follow him. Quinlan guessed he was probably right.

It was only moments before Quinlan ran after him.

“Obi-Wan!”

Said man did not stop, just storming through the halls, projecting a cloud of determination and fear. The trooper he had brought with him was no longer led around, just followed dutifully, keeping pace with his general.

He finally caught up but hesitated to touch him. Even though Obi-Wan was covered, from his feet all the way to neck, he didn’t want him to lash out.

“Stop!”

Obi-Wan did and spun around, blue grey eyes flashing. “If you truly aren’t a Sith Lord, you will let me go save my kid,” Obi-Wan snarled, his eyes flaring in such resolve that Quinlan hadn’t seen since Anakin was a teenager and still adored his master. His hiss held such vitriol, shoulders rolling into some kind of subtle stance, waiting for a fight.

“Of course, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan said, softening his voice. Obi-Wan eyed him warily. “I’m sorry I lost your padawan, I told him to stay by you for you when you woke up but apparently, he had other ideas. But if you are going to go after him, you need to calm down,” he insisted, gently, keeping his hands out where they could be seen. “You know how you get when you are all worked up before a conflict.”

Obi-Wan paused, mulling this over for a moment. Quinlan didn’t move while he closed his eyes momentarily, taking a few deep breaths. It was a start, he suspected. It wasn’t Obi-Wan’s completely usual mediation, as he would generally rather find a quiet place – he was fond of gardens and caves – to sit and stay, to calm and meditate. He exhaled.

“That feel better?”

Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan glanced at him, his expression smoothing into the calm and pacify. “That was sound advice,” Obi-Wan hummed, although Quinlan knew him, he was wary of the ulterior motives.

“I would like to come with you, to find your padawan.”

“Absolutely not,” Obi-Wan snorted, turning away and starting back towards what Quinlan assumed would be the docking bay. “I cannot trust you.”

That hurt, Quinlan thought but he told himself it was only because he thought this whole thing was fake and staged by an evil Sith. Quinlan wasn’t entirely sure how that would work but then again, Obi-Wan was the one from the future, he would surely know better than Quinlan would.

“You can trust me,” he insisted, pressing forward. “I know who Luke is, he told me.”

Obi-Wan stiffened and his stride had skipped a little.

“We met in the future again, after the fall of the Order on a tiny planet at a café,” Quinlan explained easily what he had seen in Luke’s memories. He ahd seen several but it Luke had seemed to make sure Quinlan had been able to see his and Obi-Wan’s reunion after the fall of, well, everything. He hoped this would help convince Obi-Wan that he was real, that he knew this and could help. “It was by chance, but it was almost sixteen years after the Empire rose.”

His intended target had slowed his gait a little more as he looked down and away. Quinlan ushered the soldier accompanying them away quietly. The trooper looked a little hesitant as he glanced at his general but eventually did what he was told.

“How…no one knew that,” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked a little.

“Obi-Wan, I am here to help you,” Quinlan insisted, stressing the phrase. “You can trust me. Here,” he unclipped and offered his saber, pressing it into Obi-Wan’s gloved hand. “Since I’m pretty sure the kid took yours,” he gestured to his friend’s belt.

Obi-Wan looked down and cursed once again, shaking his head. He was full of such colorful language, Quinlan would have loved it and teased him about it mercilessly if it hadn’t been for the circumstances. He took the saber and hooked it to his belt, carefully.

He looked at Quinlan and studied him, staring intently. “It’s so hard to tell,” he confessed. “I don’t want to lead the Sith to Luke, but you act just like Quinlan, you are doing things that a Sith probably would never do, you know things that only Quinlan would know or, if Luke had actually talked to him. And if he had, then why would you need me to lead you to him?”

“I’m not a Sith, Obi-Wan. I am just Quinlan Vos, always have been and this time, always will be,” Quinlan asserted.

The next thing Quinlan knew, they were tucked into their respective Jedi starfighters, making last checks to get to the planet surface. A little red and silver astromech droid spun over to them, screeching and beeping at him. Obi-Wan just stared.

“Hello Arfour. It has been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

The reply was slow and a bit mournful.

“Would you mind accompanying me on a mission? Just to the planet surface, your flying is much better and often fancier than mine,” Obi-Wan replied, looking down at the droid as his gaze softened. Quinlan wondered when he had lost the droid, to see it as some kind of familiar face. “I have lost someone quite dear to me and I need to find him.”

Quinlan couldn’t actually make out the droid’s beeps and whirs from where he was standing next to his own ship, but he could hear some sounds coming out. Obi-Wan just smiled, faint and tight and nodded. “I would appreciate that, Arfour.”

The droid got settled into the nest and port of the starfighter and Obi-Wan jumped into the cockpit of his ship. Quinlan quickly followed suite in his own.

Space never really ceased being cold.

To his credit, Quinlan had waited until they got into a lull of the battle. Shots were still being fired but they hadn’t been in the thick of it while he asked.

“Hey Obes, you mind asking me askin’ you a question?” Quinlan asked as he spun around to avoid some fire that chased in his direction.

“I imagine that no matter my answer you will ask nonetheless,” Obi-Wan just replied, rather dryly.

Quinlan took that as permission. “Look, I know it is a war zone and all, but why are you so frantic? He’s an older teenager and with you being around, I’m sure he has had plenty of training, enough to definitely hold his own no doubt. And besides, he’s got a bunch of the 212th around him, I have no doubt they will protect him as much as they can. They’re quite the bunch of guys you got there, buddy. I kinda like them.” In honesty, Quinlan had met very few of the 212thattack battalion at this point but he had met Commander Cody several times and rather liked him.

There was silence from the other fighter.

“Look buddy. I already know you went through this already.”

There was another moment of silence. Quinlan nearly thought that he wouldn’t actually answer but eventually Obi-Wan’s voice came over the commlink and communications, just one between the two of them. “Luke is friends with Boil. He knows Waxer dies during the war. I don’t know how he figured out this invasion is where it happened.”

“Are they your troops?” he knew the answer, really, but it was enough to keep the conversation going, at least for a moment.

“Boil and Waxer are some of my best.”

Quinlan didn’t doubt it. Obi-Wan did not just give out praise that high and blatant lightly. And if Boil had met and befriended Luke, that also meant he had survived the war. At least some of the clones did.

“Well, I suppose we should save them, shouldn’t we?”

There wasn’t much talk after that, as the two of them were more focused on not getting shot and blown away from enemy ships, avoiding them even more so as they breached the atmosphere, even taking out bombers and enemy ships on their way.

Quinlan had gotten a brief message through and even a short response with a place where the two jedi starfighters could land. Obi-Wan had nearly flown out of his cockpit once he had barely touched down. Commander Cody approached, having waited for their arrival with confused concern.

“General Vos, is there-,” the Commander started, his voice thick until he stopped, both verbally and physically once he caught sight of Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi! You’re up, sir, I…”

“Where is Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon?” Obi-Wan ignored him and walked up, although Quinlan had saw a flash of grief and sorrow in his face. He still thought this wasn’t quite real, he realized.

He could feel the hurt thumping from Commander Cody but to his credit, he took in stride. “My apologies sir,” he replied, rather stiffly, but otherwise completely cool and professional. “They had been at the southeast corner when, last I heard, they had received intelligence about natives coming up on their flank, trying to appropriate a sneak attack on them,” his voice turned mournful and wavering as he tried to keep Obi-Wan’s gaze.

Ben stared at him for a brief moment, his breath becoming quicker. His head whipped around, as if looking for the battle. “No,” he whispered. “It’s already happening.”

“Sir?” Commander Cody’s voice shifted. “What has happened?”

The jedi just spun around towards the southeast. “Commander, I need you to stay here. I trust your orders and plan will pan out; you know what you are doing,” he said quickly as he started towards the direction. Quinlan shot after him.

“General! Where are you going?” Commander Cody called after him.

“It’s a trap!” Obi-Wan yelled back. “Those aren’t Umbarans! It’s the 501st!”

The men they find are jittery and a just a tad bit slow.

They were on their way back to rejoin with Commander Cody’s forces and although jumped and pointed their blasters at the movement that was Obi-Wan and Quinlan barreling through the terrain, they didn’t fire.

They seemed to fear to.

When Obi-Wan demanded for the appearance of their leader, Lieutenant Waxer, a different clone appeared. That was rather apparent by the look on Obi-Wan’s face. “Where is your platoon leader, Freefall?”

The clone saluted easily but Quinlan could tell his hand was shaking. “He’s not here, sir. We…we nearly shot our own men. If it hadn’t been for the little jedi…” he drifted off, his eyes and voice a bit dazed at the notion.

Friendly fire, Quinlan realized.

Somehow, he doubted this was poor and unfortunate coincidence.

“Where is he?” Obi-Wan pressed, edging on the side of desperation. He looked on the verge of near shaking the clone as if answers would just fall out of him. “Where is your Lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant Waxer told us to hold the ridge,” Freefall explained, trying to quicken his words to appease his general. “To protect Commander Cody’s flank. He and a few others went with the 501stand the commander.”

“The commander?” Quinlan questioned.

“The little Jedi,” Freefall pointed out with an unsure glance at him and then looked back at Obi-Wan. “We assumed he was a commander.” He hesitated and winced, clearly not wanting to speak what else was on his tongue. “Is…is he a General?”

“NO!” Ben cried, the sound tearing from his throat in some mix of emotions. “He doesn’t hold any rank! Where did they go?”

“They went back to the air base where the 501st had made their base.”

“Why?” Quinlan asked but for some reason, he feared the answer.

There was a hesitation so long that Quinlan nearly thought they wouldn't answer at all. Freefall and a few of the surrounding soldiers glanced at one another, something of fear and a touch of sympathy. "We think…they are going to arrest General Krell."

Quinlan blinked. He was missing something.

One of them continued. "He, General Krell, set this up, he told the same thing he told us to the 501st. We almost killed one another. The commander… the little jedi, he saved everyone."

Once again, Obi-Wan's skin paled into something greying and ashy. "No," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for at least Quinlan and Freefall to hear. "He's going to get himself killed."

Quinlan wasn't entirely sure if Obi-Wan's fear was completely founded. For some reason, he felt as though Luke stood, he better chance than he was giving the boy credit for. Then again, these were fairly extraordinary circumstances and Obi-Wan was worried, which was probably overreaching his usual calm and faith.

“Obes,” he said quietly, barely touching his friend’s arm. “How long have you been training Luke?”

Ben stared at him.

“Obi-Wan,” Quinlan repeated, a little more forceful. “How long?”

“Since he was nine,” Obi-Wan choked out.

Wasn’t that just fascinating.

“Is he any good?”

Obi-Wan nodded. Good, he had some faith then. His worry, coupled with the extreme circumstances were just clouding things. Quinlan could work with that.

“Then he has a chance, bigger than you probably think.”

“Krell has double lightsaber staffs. Luke hasn’t even seen that before.”

Quinlan suspected that Luke hadn’t seen barely any lightsabers before, but he didn’t say anything to that. Skywalker had always been extremely talented with a blade. Although it wasn’t guaranteed his son would be the same way, he speculated that it was the case.

He has a chance,” Quin repeated. “Let’s go, okay? Let’s go to the airbase and find him.”

Freefall gave them a speeder. Obi-Wan had even let Quinlan drive without saying a word. Finding and getting to the airbase wasn’t difficult at all but it was eerily quiet. As Quinlan skidded to a halt, Obi-Wan had jumped off before the engine had stopped and jogged into the airbase.

It was dark.

Quinlan had a bad feeling about this.

He caught up with Obi-Wan as they pushed through, going through levels and the doors of the base into an open room where communications and ships alike were held. They both had stopped near in time together.

It was so quiet.

Obi-Wan stood silently, looking and watching, almost in shock but Quinlan moved around to take a peek. There were a few bodies of troopers sprawled on the ground, most of them missing an arm or a leg or worse, a head. It wasn’t a massacre, exactly, Quinlan thought. There were only a couple, as horrible as it was, but over all, it was incredibly messy. The wounds and killing blows had been made from a lightsaber, that was for certain. It certainly wasn’t Luke who did this, even Quinlan knew that.

“Quin.”

Quinlan barely recognized his own name coming from Obi-Wan’s lips. He hadn’t called him that seriously since he had woken up. He hoped that Obi-Wan was coming to realize that this was real, that he had time traveled and it wasn’t a dream or hallucination or cruel Sith trick.

He looked over to where Obi-Wan was kneeling and jogged over to his side.

Obi-Wan hadn’t touched it and Quinlan surely wouldn’t.

It was an arm, thick and burly. It wasn’t a human’s, that was for sure. If Quinlan had to guess, it was Krell’s.

“It’s Krell’s arm,” Obi-Wan answered his unasked question and then carefully used a nearby prod to pry open the hand. A lightsaber tumbled out. “And one of his sabers.”

“He’s a bit like you,” Quinlan muttered, vaguely amused.

Even if Obi-Wan had heard him, he didn’t dignify it with an answer. “They are not here. Everyone is gone. There aren’t nearly enough bodies for this to be the entirety of the 501st.”

“That begs the question,” Quinlan added. “What happened and where did they go?”

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dontmindthefangirling · 5 years ago

Text

Pandemic {t.h.}

part 2

Tom Holland x Medic!Reader

Summary: Y/N has to go back to the states as the coronavirus pandemic gets worse and Tom worries about her having to work

Warnings: angst; mention of death; swearing; more angst

Note: This a one-shot based off of my series Broken Nose but you don’t really have to have read it to know what’s going on; this is also a big shout-out to all of the people working to keep us safe during this pandemic and this idea came to me because working on the front lines can be scary and difficult

part 1

“Tom, you have to stop watching the news,” Harry said approaching his brother who was sitting on the edge of the couch, his knee bouncing up and down and his eyebrows permanently scrunched together.

“How?” Tom snapped, turning his head. “It’s everywhere.”

Ever since you left to go back to New York, Tom had been irritable, almost everything getting him angry or worked out. Harry was beginning to lose count of the amount of times he’s seen Tom angrily boxing out his emotions, punching a bag that was beginning to tear.

“I know, mate,” Harry sighed, sitting next to Tom on the couch and shutting the TV off.

“God, (Y/N) is in the middle of it all,” Tom almost whimpered, burying his face in his hands. He angrily ran his hands through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan.

“Have you talked to her?” Harry asked.

Tom shrugged. “Here and there. She’s working sixteen hour shifts every day.”

New York City was all over the news as the world struggled to control the pandemic. It had the most cases in the states, and it was a complete ghost town as everyone was ordered to stay at home. Everyone except you and all the other essential workers.

But you were on the front lines. You were constantly around people being sick and injured because emergency calls didn’t stop even for a pandemic.

Tom constantly worried about you all day and every day. He couldn’t sleep, he was barely hungry, and he felt nauseous with anxiety. The only people keeping him sane were Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine. They forced him to eat, they forced him to get out of bed, and they kept him going.

Yet you still remained in his thoughts. His biggest fear was of you getting infected with the virus. He wouldn’t be able to go see you, and he was terrified of losing you.

“She’s smart, mate,” Harry reassured Tom, placing a hand on his back. “She knows how to take precautions.”

Tom nodded numbly, staring down at his phone, waiting for you to text back and tell him you were okay for another day.

On the other side of the Atlantic, you were giving chest compressions in the back of an ambulance as it raced down the empty streets of New York City. You were sweating, and breathing was difficult through your mask, but you didn’t stop.

“(Y/N),” your partner James said, watching you. “I can take over if you need a break.”

The patient beneath you was a young patient, probably only in his thirties. He went into cardiac arrest when you had arrived to the scene. The call was initially for shortness of breath, and then things went south when the patient coded and his heart stopped.

You looked down at him, seeing the blue around his lips as you pressed deeply into his chest.

“No, I got it,” you grunted.

James sighed, adjusting the bags of medication that was dripping into the patient’s IV.

Moments later you were pulling into the emergency department of one of the many hospitals in New York. The driver of your ambulance jumped out and rushed to open the doors. You continued compressions as the stretcher was pulled from the truck.

Because of COVID-19, you were no longer allowed to enter the emergency room, and had to do all of your reporting outside while the doctors and techs came out and took your patients from them.

You already called the patient in, telling them that he was a potential COVID-19 patient due to the shortness of breath, so the hospital could properly prepare with appropriate protective equipment.

One of the doctors took the patient from you while you gave the report to the nurse.

"How long has he been down?” the doctor asked you while one of her techs began compressions.

You sighed. “Fifteen minutes.”

“No signal on the EKG?”

“None.”

The doctor sighed, turning to her staff and telling them to call it off.

“Time of death, 14:03,” the doctor called glancing down at her watch while one of the scribes wrote it down. Your heart sank as they moved the patient so your crew could get their stretcher back. A sheet was placed over his face and that was it for you.

You bit back as a sob as you stormed back over to your truck, ripping your mask off and resting your forehead against the truck. James was hot on your heels, running over to you.

“(Y/N)-”

“Fuck!” you yelled, punching the ambulance. Tears swelled in your eyes as you turned around, and looked up at the sky. It was too nice of a day for how you were feeling.

You were exhausted and worn out and your feet hurt from your boots. You had been working from eight in the morning until midnight every day for the last two weeks and you were spent.

You were happy to be working with James, he was your best friend and he had been your partner for years, but this whole pandemic was taking its toll on everyone you knew that was working. Every day was getting harder and harder and you didn’t know when it would end.

There were a few co-workers that had been diagnosed with COVID-19 but they were isolated. Another few had been possibly exposed and were required to self-quarantine for two weeks.

You and James had a few scares, but for every patient tested that you had had, they all came back negative. You knew they would test the poor patient that you just lost for the virus as well, and you and James would know if he was positive or negative in the next day or so.

James was silent as he stood next to you. You knew he was tired too. Every day was a new challenge, but you were in this together.

“We have to go clean the stretcher,” you muttered under your breath.

“I know,” James sighed. “In a minute.”

You were both watching the puffy white clouds float by, and for a moment you felt a little peaceful.

You missed Tom. God, you missed him so much. The time difference made it almost impossible to FaceTime since you got off work at midnight and it was five in the morning in London. Tom said he would get up to talk to you, but it also didn’t help that you needed all the sleep you could get before your next sixteen hour shift.

There were a few times where you were waiting for calls and you managed to sneak in a few FaceTimes while working, but those were rare.

You inhaled sharply before putting your mask back on. You were only given one mask for the day, and you had to re-use it.

“Ready?” James asked, glancing at you.

“Ready.”

Tom was sitting around the fire with his friends when his phone rang. He almost wanted to ignore it, not really in the mood to speak to anyone until he saw that it was you.

“(Y/N),” he almost exclaimed, excitedly answering and stepping away from the fire for a minute.

“Hi Tommy,” you said, your voice bringing a sort of happiness that he could feel in his bones.

“How are you?” he choked out, worried that if he asked too many questions you would have to end the call before you could answer them.

“Tired,” you admitted. “We’re on our way back to the station to pick up some more cleaning supplies before we go back on the road.”

“How’s your day been so far?” he asked.

You sighed. “Not great.”

Your answers were always short, especially when you were upset, and that only made Tom worry more. He knew that you didn’t like to talk about what happened at work, especially when it wasn’t a great day, much to his protests. But he didn’t want to push you either. You’d tell him when you were ready.

“I just...can’t save everyone and it’s getting to me,” you continued, to Tom’s surprise.

“I know darling,” Tom whispered. “That’s what makes you a great medic. You want to save everybody.”

“I guess,” you mumbled. There was a short silence between you before you spoke up again.

“I miss you.”

Tom blinked away his tears and held the phone closely to his ear, like he was holding you closer.

“I miss you, too.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft, making Tom miss the nights where he would hold you close.

“I’m hanging in there,” Tom said, running a hand through his hair. “The boys are keeping me sane, but I’m worried about you.”

He glanced over to where his friends were sitting by the fire, Tuwaine and Harry were throwing ping pong balls at Harrison, who was swatting them away while yelling at them to stop. The sight brought a small smile to Tom’s lips.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said sternly. “It’s bad for your health.”

Tom chuckled. He could picture you with your arms crossed and your eyebrows furrowed in a way that he thought was really cute.

“Sorry doc.”

You giggled, the sound sending a warmth spreading throughout Tom’s chest.

“I’m serious though. I’m okay,” you continued. “It’s hard, sure, but I have a lot of support here.”

“I know,” Tom sighed. “I just want you to be safe.”

“Aren’t I always?”

Tom smiled. “Of course darlin’.”

“You’re the one that does flips and shit. Remember when you broke your nose?” you continued, a teasing tone lining your words. Tom chuckled.

“Which time?”

You laughed, and it almost hurt how much Tom missed hearing your voice, your laugh, your everything.

“I’m sorry babe, I have to go,” you said sadly, making Tom’s heart drop. “We’re at the station.”

“That’s okay love,” Tom said though his heart felt heavy. “Go save some lives.”

“I will,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The call ended and Tom was left feeling empty, although glad he got to talk to you when he did. He stared at his dark phone screen for a moment, wishing he was still talking to you.

The sound of his friends laughing brought him back to reality as he walked back over to them.

“How’s (Y/N)?” Tuwaine asked.

“She’s okay,” Tom responded, taking his seat. “Tired, but okay.”

After you and James restocked your truck, you hopped back in and headed back out onto the streets to await your next call. New York was empty and it brought chills to your spine every time you drove through Times Square.

James sat in the driver’s seat as you headed to your posting location; basically the place you camped out until you got a 9-1-1 call.

“Tom okay?” James asked.

“Yeah, he said he’s okay,” you sighed, staring out the window as you drove down an empty 5th Ave. “I dunno, I’m worried about him.”

“He’s worried about you, you’re worried about him,” James said. “That’s not good.”

“I told him not to worry about me,” you protested.

James gave you a look and rolled his eyes.

“What?” you demanded.

“(Y/N) for someone so smart, you really can be dumb sometimes,” James laughed.

“Excuse me!”

“You’re a paramedic during a pandemic,” James sighed, bringing the seriousness back to his voice. “My friends and family are worried about me, too. You can’t blame him for worrying.”

You knew James was right, but you hated to admit it. It would only inflate his ego more. You looked out the window, spotting all of your favorite places in the city that you called home. You hated what this virus was doing to it.

“I just want him to be okay,” you mumbled.

“And he will be,” James assured you. “He’s got his friends and family with him. They’ll make sure he’s okay.”

“Isn’t that my job?” you sighed, turning back to look at James. “I’m his girlfriend.”

James gave you a close-lipped smile. “Right now, your job is to make sure the millions of people in this city are okay.”

Your heart twisted at his words. The weight of the situation sometimes didn’t hit you because you were constantly on the move. But when you gave yourself a moment to sit back and reflect on what was going on, it would be a little too much for you to handle. And the thought of Tom thinking of that all day made you upset. You didn’t want him to carry the burden of your problems.

Suddenly a call came in through the radio. James responded and flicked the lights and sirens on as you made your way towards the emergency.

You were looking ahead at the street when your phone buzzed with a notification. You glanced down, seeing it was Instagram. “tomholland2013 tagged you in a post.”

You frowned, quickly opening it as James turned down another street. It was a picture Tom had snapped of you and James on set of Spider-Man: Far From Home in your uniforms. James had his arm around your shoulder and Jacob was playing with one of your stethoscopes in the back.

The caption read: So proud of all of the healthcare workers out there keeping us safe. I may play a superhero in the movies but you guys are the superheroes in real life. Thank you healthcare workers! #stayhome

Your eyes welled up with tears as a smile broke out onto your face. You and Tom weren’t public with your relationship yet, but this was all you needed to keep you going for the rest of your shift.

You texted Tom quickly as you pulled up to the scene.

Y/N: I love you

You jumped out of the ambulance just as Tom texted you back.

Tom: I love you too, my little superhero

You took a deep breath, adjusting your mask as you hoisted the medicine kit up onto your shoulder.

Maybe you could do this.

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miaouerie · 4 years ago

Text

whumptober 2020 ------ day 30. wound reveal

@whumptober2020 Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: none

previous: day 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / → read on AO3

“And remember, Jyn: one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing to lose…”

“Can take the day,” Jyn finishes reciting faithfully.

Saw looks at her with pride, before lowering his voice. “It is my hope you’ll have more than a sharp stick in the Arena. Your mentor will be whom you rely on to improve your odds; impress him and he can get you what you need to survive. I’ve taught you plenty—but how far you get won’t be based on your fighting skills alone.”

Jyn frowns; he can only be talking about Cassian Andor. “He hasn’t brought back any of his tributes. How can I trust him to help me?”

Saw lowers his voice even further. “You can’t. He’s been in the eyes of the Capitol for too long. But he’s your only hope in the Arena. Therefore, your only hope to get out.”

Saw’s words rattle around in her head as Jyn lies in her bunk. The way the train car gently sways on its tracks as it speeds its way towards the Capitol could almost be soothing, except for the fact that they’re hurtling their way to near-certain death.

…no, she can’t think like that. She tells herself it’s only a reflexive fear, borne of the circumstances that she’s been forced into of all the sheer, rotten luck in Panem. If only she hadn’t gotten reaped, she and Saw would have been able to complete their mission, then abscond out of District 5 as planned. She could have been seeing her mother again in a week’s time. If only…

Well, no use in dwelling on it now. She turns onto her side facing the bulkhead, determined to get some shut-eye before the morning brings with it the next day.

And with the next day will come the next time she sees Cassian. What transpired a few hours ago comes to mind unbidden—she had thought herself clever for kissing him to quiet his words (was he really so foolish to not think about the train being bugged?), but after he spotted the Peacekeeper approaching he reacted in kind. Taking her into his arms in a false display of intimacy like that. And it worked; the Peacekeeper quickly left them alone.

But then there was that kiss before they bid each other goodnight. He didn’t have to kiss her then, did he?

Jyn forces herself to stop thinking so she can go to sleep.

The morning of their first full day in the Capitol has Jyn waking up to three sharp knocks on her door.

“Jyn Erso. Breakfast is in the dining room.” That Capitol accent can only belong to Davits Draven, their escort. “I’d advise you to eat before you have your meeting with your stylist.”

The stylist. Kay. She had met them and the other stylist for Joule last night when they were prepared for the Opening Ceremony. But she already knew who they were in the way that most people in the districts, from the Games’ mandatory viewing, were familiar with the faces of stylists and mentors and victors and commentators amidst the ever-changing pool of tributes. Kay’s surgical augmentations were distinctive compared to the Capitol trends that ranged between somewhat natural and grotesque; his body was covered with a matte chrome synth skin, save for his face and hands which were kept as—presumably—his own pale skin tone. His eyes shone with a luminescence in the viewing stands that she could see from the chariot as the horses pulled to a stop around the City Circle during last night’s Opening Ceremony.

Jyn gets out of bed, selects a normal-looking outfit from the closet, and joins the rest of the party in the dining room. Joule is talking to Cassian, probably for the first time since he went catatonic at the reaping. But at the sound of the glass doors sliding open, their attention is turned to her.

“Good morning Jyn,” Cassian says, his tone perfectly placid. “Care for some breakfast?”

She sits there and eats quietly while the conversation flows around her. Compared to the intensity that radiated off of him last night, his conversation with Joule gives off the feeling of being polite yet distant; she vaguely wonders if he wrote off her district partner as she already has.

At the conclusion of their breakfast and after Draven comes to collect Joule first for the meeting with his stylist, Cassian crosses over to her side of the table and sits down next to her. “He’s pleasant enough,” he says about Joule, “but I’m not convinced he has a chance to make it out of the bloodbath if he freezes up like that again.” He gives her a wry look. “I trust that I don’t have to worry about that with you?”

Jyn knows he’s thinking about the way she slammed the cabin door shut on the train and then tried to fight her way through a squadron of Peacekeepers; she recalls the memory with a grin. “Trust goes both ways, right? I’ll show you what I’ve got in the Training Center.”

Draven brings the three of them down to the level that houses the enormous gymnasium they’re to train in for the next three days and leaves them there. Joule seems at a loss for what to do but Cassian offers to point out some of the more useful, rudimentary survival skill stations, so Jyn decides to take her own tour around the periphery.

There’s the weapon stations, of course: swords, spears, knife-throwing and the like. Then there’s the skill stations, like knot tying and snares and camouflage. Then she sees there are trainers available for hand-to-hand combat.

Her hands have been itching to come to blows with someone since that Peacekeeper held a gun to her head and Draven informed her, in his gratingly crisp Capitol accent, that there was no escaping the fate decided for her the moment her name was drawn in the reaping. She decided right then and there she was going to change it in her favor.

So she goes to the combat station and easily spars with a Capitol attendant there. It’s just like sparring with Uncle Saw, so with a few words and a jerk of her head she has the other trainers that were supposed to be available for other tributes join in; first, as two against her, and then she takes on all three. The sparring match finally ends when she’s knocked to the ground and a foot is planted firmly on her chest, but the grin the trainer’s giving her doesn’t seem mean-spirited as they help her back up. It’s only while she takes a moment to fix her bun and catch her breath that she sees what an audience she’s gathered, including attention from the Gamemakers, and that’s when the lunch session is called.

Disappointingly, Cassian is nowhere to be seen when she quickly scans the people who had been watching her. But she does accept the invitation from the Career pack to sit at their table for lunch.

Jyn doesn’t see Cassian again until that evening after Draven comes to collect them back up to their floor in the Tower. He’s sitting in the dining room with Kay, in different clothes than she saw him in that morning. Not that she noticed.

“I heard you impressed quite a few people in training today,” Cassian says as they eat their dinner. “How was she, Joule?”

Joule has gone quiet again. He fleetingly makes eye contact between her and Cassian before he nods his head, once.

Jyn decides to save them from the awkward pause that’ll follow. “If you stuck around, perhaps you would’ve seen it.”

A look of surprise crosses his face before Cassian lets out a short laugh. “I would’ve loved to see you sweep three trainers, but I’ll have to wait and see you in the Games. It’s up to you if you want to team up with the Careers or not but you’ve certainly got their attention, both as a potential ally and an enemy; take care to remember that. I want the both of you to check out all the weapons stations to get an idea of what will be available in the Arena but make sure you spend enough time learning survival skills. And Joule…”

The stricken sixteen-year-old boy looks up.

Cassian softens his tone. “I’m doing my best to secure sponsors for both of you. It’ll pay off in the Arena but I need you to survive for that to happen, so make the best of the next two training days and then we’ll go over final interview strategy with Draven. Alright?”

Surely he must know that Joule doesn’t stand a chance, Jyn thinks. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, giving her the impression that he’s giving himself a pep talk as much as he is to them.

The evening following their private sessions with the Gamemakers is when the tributes’ evaluation scores are released. For the gamblers the scores dictated the odds to bet on in macabre betting pools; for the tributes, each score was a sign of who’s a threat and who can be ignored or—for the Careers—who will be easy pickings. When Jyn’s picture is shown on the screen followed by a 11, the others congratulate her and she smiles her thanks as she thinks about Saw. Is he watching her on national broadcast? He has to be, if he’s still in District 5. Would he feel proud of her so far?

But then she has an upsetting thought: what if he’s already left the district? What if he was able to complete the mission without her and he’s already gone off to the rendezvous? What if he’s already written her off as good as dead?

She can’t afford to think about that. After dinner she goes to the roof, wanting to get some air and privacy without locking herself up in her room. This will be the only time she’ll let herself cry, and then it’s game on. Tomorrow is the last day before the Games begin, and she’ll be spending the entirety of it with Draven and Cassian.

She finds a bench to sit down on, draws her knees up to her chest and hugs her face to her thighs. It takes a moment for the tears to come, as unused to crying as she is, but she lets out the sobs and sniffles as much as she’s able to without letting herself dwelling too much on her doubts.

When someone sits down next to her she somehow already knows it’s Cassian. He lightly touches her shoulder as if to ask permission, and when she finally peeks at him from the shelter of her arms he scoots a little closer and carefully wraps a comforting arm around her back.

They stay like that for a while until Jyn’s sure the tears have dried up. Then she asks, “Why’d you follow me up here?”

“I’m your mentor. You’re my tribute,” he says with amusement, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “But… I wanted make sure you’re alright. You’ve held up strong so far, Jyn. I know you’re committed to winning this thing.”

“I am, it’s just…” Jyn bites her lip. “I can’t help being nervous.”

“Nobody can.”

“I keep thinking about the worst.”

“…Do you want help getting your mind off of it?”

Jyn can’t help how her lips quirk up at that. “Why, are you offering?”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need. I said it on the first night; I want to help you in any way possible.”

She knows there’s suggestive intent in his words. But the way that he says it expresses a pure, earnest wish to help.

So, she doesn’t feel bad when she leans in to kiss him.

She can’t help but think about that last kiss and the make-out session that followed each time a silver parachute comes to her in the Arena. She’s received ten so far; in the past Games Jyn’s watched, it’s the Careers who receive the most gifts from sponsors eager to help their favored tributes win. While there were some morally repugnant people in the districts who were betting on the same tributes, ultimately only those in the Capitol could impact the odds; nobody in the districts had that much spare money to frittle away gambling on the deaths of children.

As the Games continued on, the price of sending gifts and aid increased. Even in the Capitol there was a hierarchy to sponsorship, with only the wealthiest sponsors holding sway in the endgame. The Games commentators often interviewed those uber philanthropists on the public broadcast of the Games and so Jyn even knew some of their names: Laertes Crake, Cygnus Vondel, Trimalchio Plena. Having made it this far, she wonders if any of the boons she’s received were sponsored by any of them.

It’s nighttime in the Arena. Jyn rests in the shadows of a ruined entryway, taking care to remain concealed. An unnaturally full moon illuminates the ruins of the game field; the Gamemakers made it so that each night alternated between bright moonlight and the darkness of a new moon. With each night, instead of resting, the tributes found themselves playing a deadly game of moving shadows and evasion and hunts in the dark.

Jyn wouldn’t have gotten this far in the Games without Cassian’s help; he had sent her heat vision goggles early on. The gift enabled her to evade the other tributes until more death cannons were fired, and when it came time to go on the offensive she had a frightening advantage.

But that boy from the Career pack must have gotten his hands on a pair too, because how else could he have known she was going to ambush them? He’d cut her with his blade, poisoning her with a paralytic, and she had genuinely believed she was going to die that very night. But true to her mentor’s word, the sight of a silver parachute some hours into the darkness of a new moon cut through her panic; inside was a sweet syrup that faded away the worsening stiffness in her body and left her feeling rejuvenated. She was able to get some good, actual rest for once that night.

This night hopefully she will, too. Tomorrow will be the day she has to attack the alliance stronghold, otherwise the Gamemakers might decide to set muttations on them or create some other disaster to force them into action. As she starts to doze she thinks about him. Cassian.

Going into the Games she knew she had an advantage not even the Career tributes could fathom, by virtue of being secretly trained in insurgent and resistance tactics by her uncle. But she had also known that what Saw said in their last words to each other was right: she wouldn’t make it far without help from her mentor. She would make it past the bloodbath and survive maybe a few days, but when the real challenges began she’d get killed by something or other, and there’d go any chance of her making it back to District 5 to complete the mission and get away with Saw.

While Jyn knew she must have earned some sponsors with her score from the Gamemakers’ evaluations, Cassian was ultimately the one in charge of handling them and dispensing gifts to her in the Arena. He might even have marshalled for her cause when she was in dire straits, such as when she got poisoned by that blade. Back in the Capitol he must be doing a lot for her and she can’t even begin to grasp what all of that could possibly entail; she owed him more than she could put words to.

And better still yet, after each night and day of fighting to stay alive, it felt nice and reassuring to be cared for. To know that somewhere beyond the Arena there was somebody from back home who was doing everything they could to help you. Because they believed in you. If she died in the ensuing struggle tomorrow she could at least die knowing that.

But if… when she wins, it wouldn’t be a lie to say she’s looking forward to seeing him again. To thank him. To let him know he sustained her both physically and emotionally throughout the Games. That just thinking of their last kiss on the rooftop did something to help to temper her fears, soothe her nerves after the stress of each day, and feel more ready to face the world about to kill her.

She thinks about these things, tucks them into the warm recesses of her heart. She might be facing certain death tomorrow but she won’t let his help be in vain.

And then disaster strikes with the earthquake.

Time is moving too erratically for Jyn to keep up.

It had seemed immeasurably long when the earth and the Arena shook beneath her feet, sifting the crumbling ruins to dust and debris on top and around her. It was a miracle that she was still alive, that the collapse of ruins she was by had pinned her leg to the ground beneath two walls that fell to support each other. Her heart beat in absolute terror, loudly and wildly out of her chest, as she waited for the dust to settle and for any possible aftershocks to finally strike her dead.

But time sped up once more once she had freed herself and made it to the general location that the alliance hideout formerly was. One moment she was emerging from her almost-tomb and in the next moment she’s leaning against the remains of a doorway to catch her breath, hardly knowing how many tributes she could take on or how many even survived.

When that dust-covered hand grabbed her ankle she had fallen in slow motion; after the eternity of one long second she was on her back, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her. Then it took several minutes to dig out her last foe—slitting her throat had only taken a second—and longer minutes still for her to bleed out and die.

Then a hovercraft whisks her away from the Arena faster than she could blink. But when it touches down and she disembarks in a stumble, the first person she sees is Cassian.

He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known; time slows down in the beat of two seconds but she doesn’t even make it into his arms before she feels a prick and her vision suddenly tunnels out. But she still saw him, and when she sees him still in the strange, continual twilight the sedatives keep her under she’s comforted.

He’s there when she wakes up.

It takes a while for the disorientation to wear off, but when it does she realizes that the warmth in her left hand is his hand holding hers, gently. Her vision’s still blurry but she doesn’t need to wait for it to clear to know that it’s Cassian sitting next to her, just like she knew it was him that night on the roof. Aside from his genuine smile he looks so flawlessly styled—manufactured—as all things were in the Capitol. She had liked the scruff on his jawline and the stubble heading down his throat from when they had boarded the train, but after they arrived Kay had personally made sure Cassian’s facial hair was meticulously groomed. Not a hair where it needn’t be.

She wonders how long it will take to grow back once they’re back in District 5. Back home in District 5…

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“How long have I been out for?”

“Five days. The poison that Career used to paralyze you came from a muttation; they had to detoxify your blood and run a lot of tests to make sure that it was all gone. Now, how are you feeling?”

Jyn tries to answer, but the way Cassian is looking at her makes her feel a little floaty, a little warm; like maybe the sedatives haven’t fully worn off yet. But she does manage to say, “I’m feeling okay. Thank you. Really. For taking care of me in there.”

Cassian’s gaze softens to something less intense, but still profound. He looked at her the same way after their make-out session on the rooftop, so she isn’t surprised when he leans in to kiss her.

He has to prop one arm on the other side of the bed to steady himself as their lips meet. It’s soft, chaste; they meet again, and again, and then he leans in close to her ear.

“Do you remember our first kiss on the train?”

Of course she does. “I do; why?”

“Can you pretend like that for me again? Once we’re out of here?”

It’s said like a flirt, but his words snap Jyn back to full awareness of their situation: she has just won the 70th Hunger Games. She had been resting and unconscious for the past few days but once she’s discharged Kay and the prep team are going to prepare her for the Closing Ceremony. To be paraded in front of the Capitol on Panem’s national broadcast as the newest victor, with her stylist, prep team, escort, and mentor. And then she will be crowned by President Snow.

Her mind flits over all of their conversations. Are they in trouble? They had talked about treasonous things, but that was under the sound of a thousand tinkling wind chimes; she’s sure that Cassian wouldn’t have brought her there for a private talk to be eavesdropped on.

Or by ‘pretend’, does he mean how they faked a passionate moment to deflect suspicion?

That must be it; she can read in his face the plea for her to understand. With him this close to her, she notices there’s a tension to his body that belies the playfulness of his words.

Jyn nods before reaching to pull him closer to her and kiss him again. For now she wants to ease his worry; Cassian will tell her in due time, and then they can face it together. After the last two weeks Jyn is confident they can.

#whumptober2020 #no.30 #wound reveal #rogue one #the hunger games #fic #sacchi writes #cassian andor #jyn erso #rebelcaptain #we finally got here lads #no warnings except if you've been keeping up with this story expect a boatload of dramatic irony angst #word count: 3.6k

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

Text

Separation | A Chance Meeting (Twice Over)

Nosdecember day 19 | @neworleansspecial

Teen!AU; Years after Sarah had to cut off contact with Ava

CW: brief narcissistic abuse mention

***

“So,” April started as Sarah came up to the nurse’s station. Sarah rolled her eyes playfully; she knew that look all too well. Nurses loved their gossip and her friends in the ED were no exception. If Sarah wanted to know about someone or something, April or Maggie would be the person to ask.

“So?”

“There’s a new CT fellow,” April nodded in the direction of the doors that led to the hallway, “And someone is pissed.”

Sarah followed her gaze, watching Connor speaking to Will with a rather annoyed look on his face. He was ranting, or so it seemed, and he looked even more disheveled than he had before. Of course, new competition would be a big hit to Doctor Rhodes’ ego, even Sarah knew that. Plus everything that was going on with Robin at the moment, she could imagine he was feeling overwhelmed to say the least.

“Poor Connor,” Sarah sighed, “He was Doctor Downey’s protégé. He’s used to being the only CT fellow, right?”

“Yeah. He’s mostly pissed because Latham doesn’t treat him like a prince, I think. Also this new fellow? She was his first choice so I think he feels threatened.”

“She?” Sarah smiled a little at that, it was nice to know there were more female doctors around. Surgery staff especially were lacking in gender equality at Gaffney, so it was always pleasing when new, talented female doctors stepped up in the ranks.

“Mhm,” April was typing away at the computer but still kept up the conversation, “She’s from somewhere pretty far apparently; really pretty accent.”

“Oh, interesting.”

Maybe April was going to say more but before she could, Natalie tapped on Sarah’s shoulder. She apologized lightly when that made the resident jump, forgetting how easily startled she could be.

“Hey, just wanted to check in. How is Robin doing?”

“I was just about to go check up on her,” Sarah replied once she regained her composure, “If you wanted to talk to her yourself.”

***

Sarah was just leaving Robin’s patient room in the CICU, thoughts focused on going home for some rest. The day had been long and hard for everyone, though she knew Doctor Charles and Connor had the worst of it. She wasn’t too close with Robin, obviously as her doctor that wouldn’t be recommended, but she cared about her. This whole situation was tough and scary, while she was glad to see a physical explanation for her psychosis she was still worried about her prognosis. The episodes could still come back and Sarah wasn’t sure how much more Robin could handle psychologically.

She mustn’t have been paying enough attention because one second she was walking down the hall and then next she was on her ass. She heard annoyed muttering before a hand was held out to her, tugging her to her feet before quickly letting go.

“What is it with residents in this hospital not watching what they’re doing?”

That made Sarah a bit peeved, smoothing down her coat before looking up at whoever this woman was. She was looking at Sarah with an unreadable expression and the psychiatrist couldn’t figure out if she was expecting an apology or a thank you. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back from her face and she was clad in the black scrubs indicative of a CT staff member. Paired with her low and admittedly beautiful accent, Sarah realized this must be the new fellow that April had told her about.

“Maybe we should both pay more attention, Doctor…”

“Bekker,” the hand was held out again, this time for a shake, “Ava Bekker.”

That had Sarah stopping in her tracks, not letting go of her hand but unable to properly shake it. It couldn’t be her; not here, not now. This had to be some kind of joke. How did she not recognize her? Staring at her now, Sarah realized how obvious it was. She still had that confident posture and unwavering smug smile. Her voice hadn’t changed, still alluring and music to Sarah’s ears. Not to mention she still wore the same perfume, a familiar lilac scent that Sarah hadn’t realized she missed so much.

“You are?” She was watching Sarah in confusion, trying to prompt her to reply. She didn’t recognize her; of course she didn’t, it had been ten years. Ava probably moved on and would want nothing to do with her. Not after Sarah cut off contact so suddenly.

“Um, Doctor Reese… Sarah.”

The realization must have hit Ava because she pulled her hand back, shock crossing her sharp features. She searched Sarah’s face silently for any indication of a lie but found nothing. The resident didn’t know how to reply, what could she even say in this situation?

Before she could even think of how to continue, Ava had grabbed her hand and dragged her across the hall to the CT lounge. She was confused and maybe a bit anxious; actually more anxious than she had been for years. The girl she used to love more than anyone was here and was holding her hand again, ten years later and in a whole new city.

“Ava, I-”

Once again Sarah didn’t get a chance to speak. This time it was because she was suddenly yanked into a hug, something she hadn’t properly had in ages. The way Ava wrapped an arm around her shoulder and the other hand came up to protectively cradle her head made Sarah want to sob. This was what she needed so badly a decade prior, the comforting promise that Ava wouldn’t let go of her. Even now, when they might as well be strangers, something felt so right about being in her arms.

“I thought…” The way her voice wavered surprised Sarah, “I thought I lost you.”

The simultaneous pain and relief in those words had Sarah almost crying for real; the last thing she had wanted was to hurt Ava. She couldn’t respond right away, instead just tightening her arms around her waist and holding her even closer. In that moment it didn’t even feel like months had even passed, let alone ten years. Everything felt right again, like the world had finally continued turning after it stopped back with her mother’s manipulation and abuse.

“I… I’m s-sorry,” Sarah’s words were muffled by Ava’s white coat but the older woman heard her just fine. She shushed her gently, promising it wasn’t her fault. She wanted to believe Ava, she really did, but Sarah had yet to be able to heal from the years of gaslighting. Everything was her fault, it had to be, her mother never let her believe otherwise.

“It was,” Sarah shook her head, “I was careless and mom found my letters. She burned them, I didn’t- I couldn’t read your last one.”

That answered the one question that had plagued Ava for ages and the amount of relief she felt was overwhelming. She had been terrified that she had scared Sarah off or upset her in some way. That last letter she sent had taken so much courage to even seal shut, much less send it. They had spoken about feelings before but that was the first time Ava officially asked Sarah to be her girlfriend. When no reply came after two weeks, she began to worry. When it reached two months of silence, Ava was convinced Sarah hated her. She never did get an answer and it left her distraught for years. She hated knowing Sarah was most likely punished for their letters but knowing she didn’t ghost her on purpose was the most reassuring thing Ava had ever heard.

“Sarah, it wasn’t your fault,” she promised, “I’m so sorry you had to live with her. I should have figured out how to get you back to me when I had the chance.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Sarah reasoned with her, “Besides, we were both young. It was a messy situation.”

“I couldn’t protect you. I should have, I hate that couldn’t be there.”

“I know, but I’m okay now,” Ava couldn’t help but melt into the hand that rested reassuringly on her cheek, “I’m out of there and it’s okay.”

Ava nodded, though Sarah could tell she wanted to apologize regardless. They fell into silence, still standing in a half hug in the middle of the cardio lounge. They both knew someone could walk in and be utterly confused at any moment but they didn’t care. This was what both women had wished for for over a decade, just one more hug and a promise that things would be okay.

“Has it really been ten years?”

“Yeah, too long.” Sarah sighed, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” the shyness that crept into Ava’s voice was unlike her and it brought a smile to the other woman’s face. Oh how Ava had missed that smile, so unlike the sad, angsty teen Sarah had been when they met that first day on the beach. She hoped Sarah was happy now, at least, safe from her mother and well on a path to a good life.

“You work here now?” Sarah knew she must be the new fellow but some part of her brain was insisting this was still a dream.

“Yes,” Ava nodded, “Doctor Latham invited me. I’m finishing my fellowship here.”

“This can’t be happening,” Sarah breathed, still shocked that any of this could be real. It felt like the universe had been against them since day one. They shouldn’t be together, Sarah had thought back then; she was only toxic for Ava. Yet here they were, grown adults in a new place, colleagues. This must be a chance to restart, to be close to each other again. Had the universe finally stopped working against Sarah? Did she have a chance at happiness again?

“It doesn’t feel real,” the blonde agreed, “But I promise I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not… mad at me?”

“Sarah, don’t be daft,” the words made her smile despite herself because they sounded so Ava, “None of this was your fault.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you…”

“I know.”

Sarah sighed again, feeling like her head was spinning with everything that had just happened. She let Ava pull her close again, knowing they both needed the quiet comfort and reassurance that the other was really there. She relaxed into the hug, hearing how rapidly Ava’s heart was beating when she leaned against her shoulder.

“Can we go somewhere to talk? Unless you’re still working but I just… We should talk, I think.”

“Yeah,” Ava’s hand smoothed down her unruly curls as she spoke, “That’s a good idea.”

“You could come over, if you wanted.”

Sarah wasn’t expecting the teasing look she received but the low laugh that accompanied it was enough to make her think she fell in love all over again. God how she had missed that laughter; the borderline giggle contrasting Doctor Bekker’s seemingly no-nonsense attitude.

Ava pulled back a little, nodding, “Well I certainly can’t turn down a pretty girl inviting me to spend the evening with her, now can I?”

#yes this is a day late <3 #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #teen!au #a chance meeting (twice over)#my aus #my-writing #nosdecember #mutuals #neworleansspecial #userglow

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theamberwriter · 5 years ago

Note

Could I request Bakugo with prompt 17 and 19 please? (Your writing is so good!!! UwU)

Pairing: Pro!Bakugo x Reader

Word Count: 3583

Warnings: Hella angst, cursing

A/N: So this took me a while to figure out the direction I want to go. And it ended up dark, lmao Also, I changed it up to be gender-neutral! I might end up adding to this later!

Prompts: 17 - "She's back. I saw her last night, but she wouldn't talk to me and it looked like she had a black eye." 19 - "What're you so afraid of?" B: "You."

It'd been a strange year. Lots of odd villain attacks. Lots of missing people. Lots of coincidences. Lots of just - weird. One could feel as it oozed through the streets. It clung to the air like morning dew.

Everyone lived in this strange fog. But none more than Katsuki Bakugo, aka pro hero Ground Zero. He'd been personally afflicted by the weirdness. His entire world turned on its head. He'd just been going through the motions since it happened. Since he started living in the miasma.

Katsuki's mornings were routine. His days were lived in a blur. Friday nights out became nothing more than a tedious chore. He had things to do. Alleys to crawl through. Leads to follow.

He wanted out of this fog. He wanted his world righted. He wanted to be able to breathe again. To see the world as he had. To feel the fire that once burned in his belly. Everything was little more than steam now.

Because they were gone. Taken. Kidnapped. Whisked right out from under his sleeping fingers. Leaving him to wake to an empty bed. And a call about a new string of kidnappings. No one was ever found.

And nobody ever came back.

At first, Katsuki's fire raged in a frantic, wild blaze. No one was able to tame it. He tracked down every lead he could. He burned up every hideout he found. He interrogated every villain brought in within the tri-city area. Nothing.

They were just steam through his fingers.

Once the desperation fizzled, all that was left was smoke. A dazed look in his eye. He still sat in every interrogation but didn't scream and yell anymore. In fact, most of the time, their words bounced right off him. He'd work late hours. Bags dark and heavy under his eyes.

But Katsuki's still destroyed training gyms. When it all would build up. And he found himself imagining the face of the person who took the love of his life from him. When he really focused. When he struck that match. Everything would come out. One large blast.

But these outbursts were becoming fewer and farther between. And Katsuki was more smoke now than fire. He was giving up hope. Which he'd never done. But he was little more than a shell these days.

Even now, as Katsuki lay with his cheek pressed against the table. His friends, old classmates, talking around him. He didn't say a word. Just watching the sweat run down the side of his full glass. He hadn't touched it. It wouldn't fill him up any, so why bother?

"Katsuki, man," Kirishima started slowly. Bakugo grunted. Not even lifting his head. "We need to talk."

"I'm not going to therapy," Katsuki retorted.

Kirishima set his cup down, staring at the back of his friend's head. His stomach was in absolute knots. He couldn't believe he was about to say these words. "No - it's about [Name]."

Katsuki immediately jerked up. He stood, glowering down at his friend. "Don't you say their name to me -!"

"No, dude! - They're back, " Kirishima rushed. He slowed down, repeating himself. "They're back."

Katsuki's eyes were wide and wild. "Don't you fuck with me!"

"I saw them last night, but they wouldn't talk to me and it looked like they had a black eye." Kirishima stood too, looking his friend levelly in the eyes.

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" Katsuki's voice shook furiously. "Nobody ever comes back!"

"[Name] did, I swear," insisted the redhead.

Katsuki could see it in his eyes. The sincerity. He collapsed back into his chair. Processing it all. Trying to make sense of those words. "[Name] is...back...but why didn't they come home? Why didn't they try to find me? - Where did you see them?"

"There's a little spot, a few streets over." Kirishima jerked his thumb behind him. "They were wandering around. Muttering."

Katsuki knew where he meant, without even asking for details. "It's just a stump now. There used to be a tree."

Kirishima nodded. "How'd you -"

Bakugo sprinted out the door. Running blindly into the night. He was full blast. Like someone lit gasoline under him. He was filled with more life than he'd been in months. He could feel his adrenaline racing. His heart pounding. The fog was clearing.

He skidded to a stop as he spied the stump. It was whithered now. Like all its life had been sucked out by the same miasma his had been. It was dull and gray and mossy, no longer brown. But that didn't matter. Kirishima said this was the spot.

Katsuki knew why [Name] would be here. It was where a chance meeting changed their lives. If [Name] was lost, or had amnesia - this had to be the outstanding memory. It made his heart soar, knowing they still remembered. There really was a chance to get them back.

Katsuki peered around. Looking for anything moving in the shadows. But the darkness was still and quiet. Just tumbling soda cups and the fluttering of plastic bags. He perched on the stump. He'd wait all night if he had to.

And he did.

Bakugo felt the eyes before he saw the person. It was the wee dawning hours now. His skin was chilled and slick with dew. He'd basically been a statue. He wished he could freeze, stay here, and keep an eye out. He didn't want any other responsibilities.

Katsuki lifted up his head, rolling out his stiff neck. His eyes immediately stared into a very familiar, yet alien pair. They peered anxiously at him from an alley across from him. They retreated as he shot up from his makeshift seat.

"[Name]," he said softly, taking a step forward. That name was water on his dry tongue. Then he shouted, "[NAME]?!"

Footsteps retreated quickly into the alley. He followed them. Turn after turn. Catching glimpses of a familiar bruised face and slick, dirty hair. Eventually, they escaped him.

But this didn't stop Katsuki. Everyone around him could see it. The change. Ground Zero had his fire back. His head finally clear. He went back, night after night for a week. Chasing the long lost love of his life. Even if they fled from him.

Finally, the night came when things would change. When the veil would sink back over his life. When the footsteps slipped in the muddy alley. Sending their owner crashing to the ground. Fearful eyes stared up as he slowly approached. Big and teary.

Katsuki smiled gently. "Are you okay?"

But no response came. [Name] scrambled backward across the ground. Their eyes never leaving his. This perplexed Katsuki. He'd have thought [Name] would have been ecstatic. Running into his arms where they were finally safe.

"What're you so afraid of?" he asked, swallowing thickly.

These words seemed to catch [Name] off guard. They only uttered out one word. "You."

"Me?" he grunted in surprise, then kneeled down. "I've spent a year trying to find you. You're safe now. - [Name]. What did they do to you?"

Katsuki reached out his hand. [Name] looked like they wanted to take it, even extending their own. But immediately retreating as they realized their movements. Big tears rolled down [Name]'s bruised cheeks. "Y-You, you don't understand, Katsuki. You don't understand."

How he longed to hear that voice say his name. But he hadn't anticipated that sheer terror. The tremble as it spoke to him. It made him crumple up inside.

"Then help me to. - Let me help you, dumpling." Dumpling. The stupid nickname he'd picked out. All over one little incident that he never let them live down. The one that always made [Name]'s cheeks tint pink. A smile forming on their face.

"Don't call me that!" [Name] shrieked. They cowered, covering their ears while squeezing their eyes shut.

Katsuki felt what was left of his heart shrivel. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's what they always made you say, right before you did." The shake in [Name]'s voice was undeniable daggers through his heart.

Katsuki took [Name] to the police station. He sat numbly, staring through the two-way mirror. Meanwhile, they were cleaned, clothed, and fed before the interrogation began. The questions didn't start right away. They had to do this softly, subtly. There were a few decoy questions before they started getting into it for real.

"What was the last thing you remember before your abduction?" asked the detective.

[Name] took a sip of their cup. "I was in bed...with Katsuki. I woke up...because I was cold. I went into the hallway. I was going to get another blanket when there was a bright light. Then darkness. When I woke up, I was alone. But I wasn't... wasn't at home…"

"Hey, it's okay." The detective gave them a tissue. "What happened then?"

"Everything was dark for a long time. And then someone came to give me food. This happened for a while. But no matter how much I ate, I was always hungry." [Name] took another long drink. "After that, I was blindfolded and taken to another room. There were others there."

"Do you know who they were?"

[Name] nodded, new tears flowing. "I remember that I knew some of them had been on TV. That...That Katsuki was helping to look for them. Th-There was so much screaming. And I didn't know why. Until...Until I started screaming."

[Name] was sobbing uncontrollably now. Whatever they were remembering was painful. Katsuki gripped the arms of the chair. It took everything in him not to go and try to comfort them. But something happened - he wasn't their protector anymore. And he wanted to know what he did.

"'You'll never trust anyone again,' I thought he was lying," [Name] wailed. "'Heroes will be your enemies. And you'll be the start of the terror virus that takes them down.' That was the only thing they ever said to me!"

"Hey, hey, easy. They can't hurt you anymore," hushed the detective.

"Yes they can...but they won't. Because they've already broken me. - They let me out first because I love Katsuki. Everyone else was civilians. They wanted people to see me scared of him. Even if I am, I won't do that to him."

The detective exchanged looks with his fellows around him. "[Name] can you tell me what they did to you? Why are you afraid of Ground Zero?"

Glossy, tearful eyes stared down the detective. Like they were drilling into his soul. "Because - someone there has a quirk to sink you into the deepest, darkest parts of your mind. They put you through your own personal hell! Do you know how many times I had to watch him kill me?! How many times he told me I'd be okay, and then he'd burn me?! Or all the times he called me 'Dumpling,' right before he drowned me?! Or sacrificed me. Or blew a hole in me?! Or...or...or..!"

[Name] broke down into loud sobs again. But Katsuki had heard enough. He stormed out of the barracks. Shouting to himself and he paced around out front. How could he have let this happen? How had they escaped him for so long?

He thought of every lead, wondering what he could have done different. How he could have saved them. How he could have spared them the torture. He mauled this over for a bit as paced.

"I should have found them sooner!" Bakugo finally shouted sometime later and shot a large blaze into the sky. “This is all my fault! - Idiot!”

“Ground Zero!” called a voice.

Katsuki sent a sharp glare at the officer on the stairs. “What?!”

“The interrogation is over," she said softly. "The detective wants to talk to you.”

Katsuki was silent as he followed the policewoman inside. He was sat in a separate interrogation room. But he didn’t wait long for the detective to come in. The detective's face was grave as he sat across from the hero.

“Ground Zero,” the detective sighed. “I’m sorry. [Name] has suffered serious mental and emotional trauma -”

“I know,” Bakugo gritted through his teeth. “I was watching.”

The detective nodded. “Then you know it’s best if, for now, you’re not around them.”

“Yeah. - I’ll put them up in a hotel or something. I’ll do anything to make them comfortable. Just make damn sure there’s always someone watching them. I don’t want them suffering anymore.” Katsuki leaned forward, and put his head in his hands. “I should’ve found [Name] sooner. They wouldn’t be like this.”

“You did everything you could -”

Katsuki bolted up, slamming his hands on the table. “But it wasn’t good enough, was it?! I couldn’t save [Name]! No matter what I did, I was always one step behind! - Damn it! I’m worthless as a hero if I couldn’t even save the person who matters most! What kind of hero am I?”

Bakugo fell back into his chair. He felt like he was going to pull his hair out. For once, he didn��t know what to do. How could you be the hero for someone who was terrified of you? Someone who used to trust you completely.

“Exc-Excuse me.” [Name] crept into the room.

“[Name],” Katsuki breathed.

The two stared each other down. The push and pull in [Name] was visible. Bakugo stood slowly, going to stand a few feet in front of them. [Name] shakily reached out for him. They tried pulling one of Katsuki’s hands into their own, but ultimately recoiled at the touch. This made the man tear up, only for them to overflow. These were the tears he hadn’t cried in the beginning. When he still had hope.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” That was all he could get out. “I tried. But I wasn’t good enough.”

“Kat-Katsuki - you tried.” [Name] smiled sadly. “That’s what matters. Right?”

Bakugo shook his head. “You can't even hold my hand. I can’t protect you -”

“I want to come home,” [Name] uttered. Their voice was barely more than a whisper.

Katsuki pressed his lips into a hard line. He could see the struggle in his lover’s eyes. The pain, the fear, the hesitation. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I want to go home. That’s all I’ve wanted all year.” [Name] swallowed thickly. “I don’t want them to control me.”

Bakugo hesitated. [Name] wasn’t looking at him. But the face of determination he’d seen a thousand times was trying to break through the terror. Like that moment just before you step into a haunted house. He wanted nothing more than for [Name] to come home. But would that really help them? Would he be able to protect them if something happened? Could he really say he was fine with letting them live in terror?

“I don’t want you doing too much, too fast,” Bakugo finally said. “We can ease you back in, anything -”

“I - I don’t want this,” [Name] muttered, more tears flowed. “I don’t want to be scared of you. - It’s not fair. Let me come home.”

Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek and then sighed. “Anything you want, Du - [Name].”

[Name] didn’t smile, although they did press their lips together. It felt like a little weight had been taken off Katsuki’s shoulders. He could still fix this. Even if it was going to take a while.

“Before you go anywhere,” the detective started. “I’m afraid there’s a few things you’ll need to do.”

[Name] underwent a psychological evaluation. And then a physical. Then there was a week spent under medical observation. Katsuki came to visit when he could. Always making sure [Name] knew he was there, supporting them along the way. The psychologist said this was a good start. Helping to undo all the negative images that [Name] had been shown of him. It helped to separate fiction and reality.

At the end of the week, [Name] was able to hold his hand. Their hand was still trembling in his. But it was a start.

Two weeks after, [Name] set foot in the apartment for the first time since their abduction. Katsuki had made sure to scrub every corner. Made sure every little thing was organized. He pulled everything out of theirs that he’d hid away. He even lit their favorite candle.

“I hope this is how you remember it,” Bakugo said, opening the door. “I had to get new curtains. I set our old ones on fire. I hope you like them.”

[Name] gave a small smile. The first since coming back. “That’s just like you.”

"I'll stay on the couch." Katsuki nodded to the living room. "You take my - your - our bed."

[Name] walked around the small apartment. They made small comments on things he'd changed. All the time keeping distance between him and themselves. Their eyes nervously darted around and kept closely on him. Like they were anticipating a sneak attack.

But what else would Bakugo expect?

For a week, they moved awkwardly around each other. [Name] flinching at the slightest brush. If Katsuki moved too quickly. Even if he handed them something, they'd flinch. And [Name] would immediately plummet to the floor if he scared them by accident.

Everyone wanted to come over. To see [Name] with their own eyes. But Katsuki turned them away. What if it caused [Name] to regress? The only people allowed to visit were parents and siblings. And Katsuki watched as [Name] grew a little more themselves during the visits.

A week later, the strangest thing happened. Around midnight, as Katsuki lay staring at the living room ceiling, he heard footsteps. And dragging. He was preparing for an intruder.

"Katsuki," [Name] said softly, unexpectedly.

He peered over the back of the couch. Surprised to find their form there. "[Name], you're still up."

They smiled softly. "Will you sleep in there with me tonight?"

Katsuki moved to sit up all the way. "Are you sure?"

[Name] nodded. Hesitantly, Katsuki followed them back to their once shared room. [Name] laid down first, then Katsuki. They were quiet for a while. On their separate sides of the bed. But then [Name] moved to lay their lay on his shoulder. He tensed up immediately.

"I never gave up hope, you know," they said. "I never gave up hoping you'd find me. I'm glad you never stopped looking."

"I wasn't going to lose," Katsuki grunted. "I lost anyway."

"I wish I could help the police more. But I can only tell them what I know. That I was blindfolded...and dumped on the outskirts of the city." [Name] paused. "I guess I'm lucky though. I found my way back. And I didn't lose my mind."

Katsuki folded his hands on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I just want you to know," [Name] started. "That in times where I was allowed to sleep. When my body gave out - I didn't dream of the hell you they showed me. I dreamt of the real you. Of all the sweet things you did, and how safe I knew your arms really were. You were such a lovely hell. There were times when I lost myself in it. They took everything I loved about you and twisted it up. Made it wrong. But, when I came out of it, I always remembered that tree. The other, real memories followed.

"I always asked myself, what would Katsuki do? And I knew you'd never let them sully my image. So I tried to not let them ruin yours. -- I just want to make this right. I want to make this feel right again. I want to be like this, without the overwhelming feeling that you're going to kill me. But I know I'm one of the lucky ones. Some of them, they went crazy. You could hear them, hitting their heads against the wall until -"

"I understand," Katsuki noted with a nod. He could hear the hysteria working up in their voice. [Name] sniffled. "You don't have to stay with me, if it hurts too much."

"It would hurt more to not be with you. To let them win. I don't want to be afraid of you...Suki. Even after everything they tried to get me to believe - I love you. I kept the real you in my mind, and I never let you go." [Name] paused. "You kept me sane in that hellhole."

There was a long stretch of silence between them. Only crickets, cars, and sirens to be heard. The tension still twisting around them. Threatening to smother any ounce of normality there was.

"What do we do now?" Katsuki asked, not really sure he wanted the answer.

"We, We work on this. I guess. I'll keep seeing the therapist. And, one day, I promise - I won't be afraid of you." There was a rising tone of determination in [Name] 's voice. "One day, I want to be able to be how we were. Where you were my safety net. Where you were my home. Where I knew with certainty that you weren't going to kill me when my back was turned. - I love you, still. And I don't want all those plans we had to change because of this."

"I love you, too. I won't let those bastards take you again. We'll find them. I promise." Gently, Katsuki leaned his head against [Name]'s. "No matter what. I'm going to keep you safe this time."

~*~

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