#surprisingly no eye strain ive done it boys

[ask-teiru]

[dascarecrow]

The Failed Raid - A Gentle Recovery IV

The fervor from the failure of the raid was still going strong. The staff of UA were still trying to come to terms with what had happened. The students were still trying to understand what exactly had happened to begin with. And into this havoc had arrived two concerned souls. 

“I swear I’m gonna tear the next idiot that gets in our way in half!” Well concerned if unblessed in social niceties. The two walking through the halls were Inko Midoriya and Mitsuki Bakugou, the mothers of Izuku and Katsuki who had been on the raid. They had seen Izuku’s injuries on the news report and had charged over to the school the instant they had been able to process what they saw. After Mitsuki had revived a fainted Inko that is. 

The concerned mother of Midoriya hadn’t said much, too worried over her son to express many words. It was a sad fact of her life that Izuku tended to wind up injured on his path to becoming a hero. A fact that had become increasingly harder for her to cope with by herself. Izuku moving into the dorms had only increased her fears as she wouldn’t be able to see for herself that he was fine each day. Her husband Hisashi loved his wife and son dearly but his job overseas kept him from being involved as much as he wised to be. She was thankful she had Mitsuki and her husband to speak with about her concerns or she may have gone crazy with terror for Izuku. 

“Do you think Izuku is okay?” the fretting mother asked her fiercer friend. Mitsuki’s already furious face grew angrier. “He better be! I swear if that kid doesn’t have all of his pieces I’m going go take down the punks responsible myself!” That was one benefit of the friendship between the two mothers. Mitsuki was hot blooded enough to get mad for both of them, unleashing her fury on the unsuspecting fools who dared look at the Midoriyas with anything less than kindly expressions. This wasn’t without it’s downsides of course. When a receptionist stopped them for a security check and was far more rude than they had any right to be in Mitsuki’s opinion she had let loose on them with verbal tirade that would terrify even hardened Villains. Unfortunately that had only inspired more attitude from the receptionist. Mitsuki’s husband had to step in to deescalate the situation. Surprisingly enough once she was calmed down he had grabbed the receptionist and threatened to tear out their kidneys and eat them raw if they weren’t allowed into the school. It had done the trick. 

The duo finally arrived at the door to Izuku’s room and opened it, not prepared for what they would see. 

------

Izuku’s snack time was going well for himself he thought. Uraraka and Eri were cutting up fruit and feeding it to him, not able to even slightly move his arms right now. He chanced a look at Uraraka. She had lost her smile, her mouth settled into a small “o” shape. Her eyes were half lidded, looking like she was intensely focused and yet not fully in reality. She appeared to be in a dream to Izuku, who couldn’t help but find her face like this entrancing. He blushed a bit at his staring and looked away but couldn’t help glancing back. 

“Here you go Papa. A nice tasty strawberry!” The little unicorn who had declared Izuku her father offered up the sweet fruit with a just as if not sweeter smile. The pattern here would be Uraraka would cut up the fruit and Eri would feed it to him. As enjoyable as it was Izuku was starting to feel a bit too coddled. He wanted to at least try feeding himself. His arms weren’t feeling as sore so maybe he could at least try. 

“Open up Papa the little bunny is going to it’s burrow.” Eri held up an apple slice cut to look like a rabbit. Izuku decided now was a good time to work on using his arms again. “Actually Eri why don’t you let me feed myself.” The young girl looked at him confused. “But you can’t use your arms right now Papa. We have to feed you.” “She’s right Deku.” Uraraka took notice of Izuku’s attempt at assertion. “Well they’re feeling a bit better now. So I’d like to try feeding myself.” 

Uraraka’s face took on what could be called a caring glare, her effort at looking authoritative. “Oh no you don’t Deku. We are here to take care of you so don’t even think about overdoing it.” The green boy wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “It’s fine. See.” He went to grab the apple slice and despite great strain was able to pick it up. An unimpressed Uraraka easily took it away from him. “Now enough of that. We are your nurses. Right now our only concern is taking care of you. Now eat up.” She held up the apple slice for him to eat. Izuku was still trying to be stubborn. “But...” “Stop being stubborn. You can’t feed yourself right now. Let us do it for you. Now stop misbehaving or your nice nurse might have to punish you.” She said the last words with a bit of a teasing grin. Izuku was caught off guard by her brazen words. Uraraka held the apple rabbit up for Izuku to eat again. “Come on Deku. Open up.” She was almost sing-song in the declaration. Izuku decided it would be easier to humor her than fight on this and was about to do as she asked when he noticed the door to the room open, seeing his mother and Aunt Mitsuki standing there. They both seemed surprised by what they saw and the latter took charge of the situation. 

“Whoops didn’t know you were busy. We’ll come back in a bit.” With that she quickly shut the door, leaving an embarrassed Izuku and Uraraka to wonder about their presence. 

------- 

Mitsuki broke out laughing after closing the door. “Hahahaha! Aw that kid. Here we are fretting over if he’s okay or not and that kid’s having the time of his life.” She looked at Inko who was sporting a relieved smile. “Thank goodness he’s alright.” Mitsuki smiled at her friend’s relief, internally happy her honorary nephew wasn’t in worse shape. “Okay let’s go in and see if we can’t embarrass the kid the to death.”  

The room’s residents had been surprised to receive visitors but they weren’t when said visitors returned. “Hi Nana! Hi Auntie!” Eri was about the only one already in the room who wasn’t slightly bashful at their visitors. She ran over and got a hug from her adopted grandmother, Mitsuki silent with literal stars in her eyes at being called “Auntie”. She absolutely adored the little unicorn, the closest she was going to be getting to grandchildren for the foreseeable future given her son was pretty much a goblin. Inko looked at Eri with a playful curiosity. “So what are you doing?”  

Eri smiled and spoke with pride and joy. “Me and mama are being Papa’s nurses!” Inko spared a look at her son and the girl she was quite certain would one day be her daughter in law. The round faced girl stood up from where she was sitting once the mothers had walked in, not wanting to create a bad impression. Inko then turned her attention back to her honorary granddaughter. “Oh are you now?” The kind smile never left Inko’s face. Eri nodded happily. “Yep. We’ve been making sure his bed is nice and soft and we also fed him cause he can’t even lift his own food. We even blew bubbles with him!” The young girl was excitedly going on about how she and her mother had been tending to her father. It was a sight that would melt even a heart of stone. 

Mitsuki finally exited her cuteness induced stupor. “Oh aren’t you a good girl. Making sure your Papa gets all better. Do you know what good girls get?” Eri shook her head in confusion. Mitsuki smiled widely. “They get cuddles!” The hot blooded woman scooped the little unicorn up in a great big hug, rubbing her cheek against Eri’s. The young girl certainly didn’t mind, happy with the contact. 

Uraraka was now rather nervous. Her crush’s mother had seen her actually acting like a nurse to him! She desperately wanted to escape. And an idea for how to do so just popped into her head! “Ah-uh... Tea! I should get some tea for you! Eri would you like to see how you make tea properly?” The young girl eagerly nodded, always happy to spend some time with her mother. She managed to squeeze herself out of Mitsuki’s arms, much to the passionate woman’s disappointment. Inko smiled at the mother-daughter duo. “Why don’t I join you dear? We did stop by unannounced.” Uraraka raised her hands and shook her head. “Oh no that’s not necessary. You came all the way here. I don’t mind. Really.” But Inko would not be deterred. “Oh but I insist. You’re already doing so much for Izuku. I want to help as a thank you.” What was it with mothers being able to make you feel guilty no matter what you did. Having surrendered this battle of wills that she never stood a chance in Uraraka led the way out of the room, her daughter and the woman she was certain would one day be her mother in law following her. 

Left in the room were Izuku and Mitsuki, who took a seat next to the injured boy. She brought out a wide smile at him, her head in her hand. “Well someone’s having fun now aren’t they?” At Izuku’s confused look she continued. “Got your own personal nurses and everything. I swear this school really does go beyond when it comes to service. Mmh, mmh, mmh. I mean really you get an adorable unicorn fussing over you. And that Ura girl. Oh it’s so precious. She’s helping you heal and tending to you like a dedicated wife.” Mitsuki was waving her head back and forth through her statement, excited over the young romance she was witnessing.  

Izuku was far less pleased with her words. Blushing dark red at her words he tried to convince her otherwise. “Oh nonononono. It’s not like that between us. It’s just... Eri is usually so withdrawn and not outgoing. It was a surprise that she pushed for something like this and we didn’t want to discourage her. That’s all.” 

Mitsuki lost the teasing grin on her face, now sporting a frown at the boy. “You know you’re allowed to enjoy this right?” Izuku looked at her in surprise and a bit of confusion. Mitsuki sighed at his dense nature. “You are just like your father in the worst ways. That girlfriend of yours didn’t get dressed up like that because of the kid. She did because she wanted you to see her in it.” Izuku was disbelieving to say the least. “What? No. That’s not... It’s just because of Eri isn’t... Do you really think that’s the truth?” Mitsuki looked at him with sympathy. “Of course it is. Take advice about women from an actual one alright.” 

Izuku thought over his honorary aunt’s words. Uraraka wasn’t doing this whole thing just for him... right? There’s no way. It was all for Eri. But there was a part of him that honestly wished she was doing this for him. Not just because their adopted daughter was pushing for it. “Now...” He got taken out of his thoughts by Mitsuki’s voice. “Let’s talk about how you’ve been treating your future wife.” 

Izuku really wished he could always remember that Kacchan’s mother seemed to live and breath by her hobby of trying to embarrass him to death. 

------

It was a tense silence as Uraraka and Inko were preparing the tea and coffe. Tense for the floating girl at least. Inko seemed quite content, which did nothing to put the young hero in training at peace. She had decided to work on the tea, adding some lemon flavor to the current brew. Inko meanwhile was working on coffee, having just added a french vanilla creamer to her concoction. Eri watched on with rapt attention, honestly quite curious at how tea and coffee were made. Whenever Aunt Yaomo had a tea party with her the tea was already made. It was something special for the young unicorn. 

Finally Inko decided to end the silence. “There’s something I’d like to say to you young lady.” Uraraka instantly stood up straight and turned to look at Inko. This is exactly why she wanted to get away from the plump woman. To avoid being interrogated! “Thank you.” Those were not words Uraraka was expecting to hear. “Izuku... hasn’t had an easy life.” The older woman didn’t turn around, so neither of the other occupants of the room could see the sad look in her eyes. 

“For his entire life Izuku has always loved heroes.” She gained a gentle smile on her face. “He admired them so much. And it wasn’t because of their Quirks or how they seemed invincible or anything like that. He respected that they were people who chose to help others no matter what. And he wanted nothing more than to be just like them. Ever since he first learned to walk and talk.” Uraraka wasn’t surprised but now had a look of confused worry on her face. 

“He wanted nothing more than to be a hero. But... the world seemed to have other plans.” Inko lost her smile. “For so long we thought he didn’t have a Quirk. And the people around us... they were less than kind.” And that was certainly underselling it. Memories of her dear baby boy being pushed down and called names when children thought no one was watching. Memories of how other adults would look at her with pity or condescension or whisper insults about her “lacking child” when they thought she couldn’t hear them. “He was... is... so kind. He just wanted to be a hero because it would give him a chance to do the right thing for others. And all anyone ever saw was how he would never fit into their view of society.” Inko had to stop to keep herself from crying. 

Uraraka grew saddened as well, and internally a bit angry. Deku was the sweetest guy she ever met! So what if he didn’t have a Quirk for most of his life? He was still one of the most noble, caring and heroic people in the world! There were a lot of Pros who could take lessons from him in being heroes! 

“It wasn’t easy for him.” Inko was able to continue on. “I was always there and did my best to give him the support he needed but it just wasn’t enough. My husband, bless his heart, was there for us as much as he could possibly be but his work kept him far busier than any of us would have liked. No one really wanted to be friends with a Quirkless child. The only one he really had with him was Katsuki.” And Inko suspected the child of her best friend hadn’t been the greatest friend to her son. 

“And then one day that all changed.” Uraraka perked up at the apparent change in course. “After he started here at UA he started talking about the people he met. The friends he made.” At that Inko couldn’t stop the smile on her face. “And the first one he ever spoke about was you.” And now there was a light blush on the girl’s round face. Along with a gentle smile. “The first time he ever told me about the girl who saved him during the entrance exam. It was the happiest I had ever seen him in a very long time.” Oh Deku had to stop being so flattering. “As his time here has gone on he told me more and more about the friends he was making. But you were always the one he told me about the most.” Oh dear it seemed the floating girl’s heart was fluttering on wings now. “So I wanted to say thank you. For being my son’s friend. And for seeing him. Not just what he can do.”  

Uraraka had to turn around. No longer willing to risk letting her face be seen. She was embarrassed, elated and uncertain all at once. Geez Deku made her sound so... amazing! She brought her hands over her heart, hoping it would slow it down a bit. “You know... Deku saved me.” Now it was Inko’s turn to look at Uraraka, who was facing away from anyone else. “In the entrance exam I got stuck under some debris and couldn’t escape. Everyone else had run off when a giant robot appeared. But Deku charged in to save me. He didn’t have a single point but he did everything he could to save someone in trouble.” Uraraka’s face was now sporting a gentle smile. “Izuku... is a true hero.” She almost whispered it out, given how softly the words were said. 

Inko had to keep herself from crying. Ever since that fateful day at the doctor’s Inko prayed for someone, anyone, to look at her son for the kind and caring young man he truly was. Not at how he how he couldn’t measure up to the standards that society had deemed were needed for excellence. And it appeared that the powers beyond had a moment of sympathy and compassion for her child. ‘Izuku... You’ve made some wonderful friends!’  

Eri looked between her mother and grandmother. She did understand what they were saying. To a degree. Apparently Papa wasn’t treated too nicely (which made her sad) until he got the school and met Mama (which made her happy). Though she was wondering what any of that had to do with tea. And she decided to voice her thoughts. “Is the tea ready yet?” 

The two older women were snapped out of their reverie by the youngest of them speaking. Uraraka looked at her with a smile. “Yes it is sweetie. Let’s go take it to your Papa.” With that declaration the women grabbed the brews they had been working on and made their way back to the room housing the boy who connected them together. 

-------- 

The three females had finally returned to the room, carrying hot beverages. “Okay tea’s ready!” Uraraka said cheerfully. “Yeah. Now we have something nice to drink for Cookie Time!” Count on Eri to make adorable childlike comments. Mitsuki had to hold herself back from cuddling the unicorn girl to pieces. “Oh how thoughtful of you all. I haven’t enjoyed a Cookie Time in ages!” Yeah Mitsuki wasn’t definitely enthralled by Eri’s inherent adorability. Hard to blame her. Sweets and sweet drinks with an adorable unicorn like Eri. Who could resist that? 

Mitsuki’s words had triggered something in Eri’s mind. She had an idea form that was inspired by a cookbook picture she had seen. She proceeded to tug on Inko’s skirt, getting her grandmother’s attention. Said grandmother looked at her with a smile. “Yes sweetie?” Eri beckoned with her finger, leading the older woman to bend down. The little unicorn whispered her idea into her Nana’s ear. Said Nana clearly thought it was a good idea. 

“That’s a fine idea sweetie.” She stood up to look at her son. “Eri here has something she’d like to do for Cookie Time and wants my help for it. We’ll be back in a bit.” As unicorn and grandmother made their way out the door Mitsuki got up. “Hold up you two I want in on this.” Izuku looked at her a bit surprised. “You want to go with them?” Mitsuki gave him a look accentuated by a mischievous grin. “What you thought I was here for you? Heck no. I want me some cuddles! And the only source of those for miles around is on her way elsewhere. So later!” The fierce tempered woman quickly made her way over to her friend. Eri took Inko’s hand, leading her forward. “Come on Nana it’s this way.” Inko smiled indulgently at her granddaughter and said nothing as she was lead along. Mitsuki shot one last teasing grin at Izuku before closing the door. “Have fun you two.” 

With her final words Mitsuki had made Izuku and Uraraka keenly aware that they were by themselves in the room. Said realization had them nervous and starting to blush, wondering how to process this development. They wouldn’t have to wait long before they had company yet again however.

[scoundrels-in-love]

Before you leave, Remember I was with you (You must know you are beloved)

Cassian Andor doesn’t believe in soulmates, despite words on his wrist. Jyn Erso thinks of them as symbol of death. Baze Malbus swears he’ll never say the words so they can’t take Chirrut from him. Chirrut knows all is as Force wills it. Bodhi Rook will never meet his soulmate, but he can see these bonds and he hopes his actions means one day, fewer will end in death and tears. Canon Compliant Soulmate AU.

Also on AO3.

I

There are surprisingly many things Cassian Andor believes in;

Steady blaster hand. His gut instinct. K-2SO. That every deed that keeps replaying behind weary eyelids in the dead of night was worth it, if it brings ends of Empire closer.

But the concept of Soulmates isn't one of them.

In a sense, he even resents the thought - his parents who died for one another, eyes on each other as eternal stillness settled in them, met and lived with no involvement of the great and mysterious Force.

No mark adorned their wrists, but was their love for each other, for him less because of that? There will be no memorial with their names (nor with his, he suspects) and yet they were a world, a home destroyed, too.

And, yet, there are lines on his wrist as if mocking his belief.

Having a Soulmate is asking for heartbreak. Loving anything is asking for one, in fact. That is why he loves nothing but memories - those have broken him already, there is no more to be lost or gained.

And for all that, the words on his wrist are simply a threat, even to his identity as a spy. And mockery, when he is tired and his grasp on hope is slipping, with his hands so slick with blood. No one is out there, they are on their own. A handful of desperate rebels against a galaxy on its knees and the laser rifle pressed to its temple. 

Yet, when he was still young, fifteen or sixteen, he used to lay awake and tried to imagine it, if only so he wouldn’t have to think about the things he had done that day. 

Maybe they are in a bunker, waiting for order to move or an extraction that will never come in time. Maybe they’re deep undercover. Someone's out there , someone tells him. And he strains his hearing, hears the shuffle of boots. Stands up and says something brave, no, maybe he presses a kiss that is more than duty to their lips first. Fights. Dies.

There would be no glory in it, but it could be a good death. No Imperial torture or taking a lullaby. 

In a few years, it felt childish and dangerous to dream of something so lofty and painted with softest hues of love.

So he stopped.

II

When Jyn thinks of Soulmates, she thinks of death.

She recalls the way she would trace the beautifully carved word Lyra! across her mama's wrist with her childishly chubby fingers again and again through the years, each time a new and persistent question on her mind.

What she never understood (still does not, her nails digging into the thin lines on her hand unconsciously) why would it tell you the very last thing your Soulmate will tell you.

"It is a promise, Stardust. Promise you will meet them, talk with them and spend a lifetime with them." Papa had told her with a smile as serene as first autumn's rain and somehow, just as sad.

He had lied. As he always did.

Mama never saw soft snow of age settling in her hair, the defiance imprinted on his wrist coming much sooner.  And his scream is embedded so deep into Jyn's soul it does not have to be visible on scarred skin to haunt her.

But she has a mark nonetheless, a frustrating inevitably she loathes and rejects. Why would she want someone to ‘complete’ her, when no one in her life has stayed or been truthful? 

This Soulmate of hers obviously doesn’t even know her. Jyn doesn’t want her father to be proud of her - his pride, his feelings matter not to her. He is dead. If not to the world, then at least to her. Even more so if he is actually out there somewhere, doing Force knows what. Never seeking her out, never looking back. 

So she hides the mark beneath gloves and wraps, curses it for its recognizability and even tries to cut it out once, just after Tamsye Prime.

And doesn’t think of it as almost lullaby when she wonders if survival is worth all this, if this can even be called surviving. 

Not at all.

III

Bodhi Rook will not meet his Soulmate in this life. Three inky teardrops his fate has cried on his wrist tell him that.

Instead, he sees the ones who are bound by Force's thread. And more often than not, it is a cursed chain, wrapping around his neck and pulling him under even though it is not for him to bear.

He remembers vividly one day when Empire's cargo for him to deliver were stormtroopers seeking out Force sensitive children to take with them.

He sees it still, imprinted on his soul; there is a mother, a dirty handed child pulled out of his imagery battle and now clinging to her skirt. His eyes sparkle green in curiosity, hers in defiant fear.

Bodhi does not see the trooper's eyes, but the faint glow around them has more color than Jedha has ever had. I found you. Finally, the ends of thread seem to whisper as they entwine.

"Not my Aslik, please!" she begs the trooper who is yanking at the boy's arm.

Something sputters in the man, he freezes like a droid that's been shut down, before everything shifts into new, painfully sharp focus.

"Run!" he tells her suddenly, the recognition flaring a sense of urgency in him like an all-consuming pyre. And as the trooper spins, his blaster rifle already trained on his comrades, she flees with Aslik on her arms.

It takes twenty direct shots to take him down and only three to mow down the woman. They never even knew each other's names.

Just one of many stories Bodhi could tell, just one of many pairs torn apart before they meet, passing by in corridor before one dies on another patrol in NiJedha, the other forever surrounded by weeping cloud of longing.

Perhaps it is the first thing he sees about Galen Erso - the dimmed colors of a broken bond, the hollowness of a man that has lost too much. (He does not understand how much until much later, when he stares at Jyn whose eyes burn with fire that will carry them all forward, or consume them.)

He has seen it often and yet, there are echoes, too, of such love and determination it almost knocks him down when he witnesses it in Galen’s eyes. It must be what draws him to the scientist, reverberating through Bodhi’s soul and guiding him out of the cave he has retreated to, hiding from everything. Everyone. Including himself. 

Funny, he thinks, just before Bor Gullet consumes him, that I came into the light, only to lose myself again.

When he, much later, comes to in his cell on Jedha, one of the first things he thinks, really thinks, is that he doesn’t remember ever witnessing an acknowledged, still living bond like the one that weaves around and between the two Guardians. It blooms so vividly he gets lost in it, as if it is living, breathing painting. 

He follows it, in dull-edged awe, through the dust that will someday softly cover the weeping wound on Jedha’s surface, follows through the rubble and rumbling whispers of death as horizon tries to swallow them.

And Bodhi doesn’t even need to look at them directly to know , when the Captain and the woman stumble in. In fact, he tries not to glance their way all the way until they are on Yavin IV. Or else he will say something, like don’t shoot him, Cassian . It is not his part. And yet, relief fills his chest like an emergency flare when they are back in the ship, his hands clean of Erso’s blood. 

They argue and yet, what had been clash of colors on Jedha becomes so bright and unified it almost hurts his eyes when he stumbles up the stolen ship’s ramp as it fills with more people and sees the two of them leaning in close. He cannot discern the words, but it doesn’t matter. They know.

And when he looks at his new friends (can he call them friends or would they recoil in disgust that an ex-imp would consider them as such?), once they’re aboard, he thinks - it was worth it, all of it. If he has to pay with his life just so that one other Soulmate story can have a happy ending in the future, it is a price well worth paying. 

Even in his last moment, he hopes it will be the stories of his friends, even without him and his ship.

IV

In some way, Chirrut knew. Knew from the day he met Baze, felt it like a soft tremor of a bell rung far far away. Knew it when he traced the lines on the other man’s wrist. Baze never told him what was written there, as if he could outwit Force itself.  

But the echo had been just that - an impression he couldn’t quite grasp, make sense of its texture or shape. Now, it stands before him, clear and simple in its monumental form, like the crumbling statues on Jedha. A few must have survived, the ones far from NiJedha. The thought comforts him.

So much has been lost. So much has been gained. Saved. 

In the Force, he will be with it all again. And that is what he tells Baze: “Look for the Force and you will always find me” . Smiles (tries to) as he hears his stubborn husband say the prayer he cannot chant anymore. 

Their vows are complete once more and all is as the Force wills it.

V

He does not think about the day he renounced his faith, turned his back to the Guardians. (But never Chirrut.)

Lies. He thinks about it when masses of people pass by them, Imperial forces peppered among them. He thinks about it at night when he wonders how many dawns they have until---

Chirrut knows, as he always does, but only smiles and tells him 'All is as Force wills it'.

Kriffin Force can will it anyway it likes, Baze isn't giving his soulmate up to it so easily.

And yet, each time Chirrut chants 'The Force is with me and I am one with the Force', something twitches in his Guardian's chest. What if this is the last time, the one imprinted on his left wrist?

So, he does not respond anymore, the line to draw a full circle of prayer stopping midway. If he does not say it, then it does not matter what any mark says.

Yet, when Chirrut's eyes are losing their indescribable light (light of galaxy's patterned chaos and faith in its order) in his arms, Baze knows. Knows he cannot deny his husband one final comfort of hearing the chant completed and perfect, as their lives, their love.

And as mere minutes later, he marches forward with gun blazing, straight into the embrace of death, he also knows that none of it matters - for he is one with the Force and the Force is with him.

VI

He doesn’t know how there is so much fight left in her still, that he can barely keep her from launching at the Imp, that she can hold him up still. That he can actually lean on Jyn, though Cassian tries not to put his full weight on her. 

He doesn’t know if there is any ship above the shield to even receive the transmission. Maybe it went directly into the hands of the Empire. His entire life has been built around knowing and knowing who to ask if he doesn’t.

Now he can only ask Jyn. And somehow, it’s enough.

“Do you think anybody’s listening?” 

She smiles, hauls him forward another step. “I do. Somebody’s out there.”

He crumples a little then, draws a breath that transforms into a bolt of pain. This is it, Cassian realizes. Not that he thought there was a way they could get off Scarif. But none of it fills him with fear or anger. Instead, he feels calm and straightens back up so they can limp into the elevator.

Maybe it’s because he’s spent so long with death’s hand guiding his own. Maybe it’s because of Jyn. Her faith, which had grown before his eyes, from a dormant seed into a jungle without an end in sight, shields him with its canopy. 

Cassian smiles just a little at her, in the fluttering light as they move toward the surface. Where the rest of his team fought and died. He only regrets K2-SO will be so far away, but soon they all will be nothing more than stardust, so does it really matter?

In the end, he had been right - it will be a good death. With more unsung glory than he ever thought. With more love than he could’ve imagined.

VII

They crumble on the beach and watch. She doesn’t remember much of those moments on Jedha, everything had been too much of a rush, too much of her father’s words breaking into the bunker she had hid herself away into. Here, the distance between them and the approaching horizon marks all the time in the world, infinite and a grain of sand all at once.

Jyn thinks of the others, wonders if there is even a single person who made it off in time. Doubts it. Thinks of Bodhi’s dark eyes and the determined light in them when he had said Rogue One , of the solid warmth of Baze’s hand and voice, of Chirrut’s chant. Somehow, in this moment, she believes it more than ever. 

She doesn’t have to think of Cassian, because he’s filling the rest of the space around them. In her. She feels his smile more than she can see it.

“Your father would be proud of you,” he tells her and oh.

Oh.

There is an odd sort of relief in her, so bright she can almost imagine the greedy green glow  is overshadowed by it. 

She had never thought much of fulfilling destinies in a good way, but it is somehow comforting to know this is where it’s supposed to end, that these are the calloused hands meant to save her, hold onto her. That Soulmates means warmth and home , and trust so warm it doesn’t matter she has had days in its shine. That her convictions have not been thrown in her face in the very last moment. 

They found each other and she thinks it means that the plans found their way into the right hands, too.

He really would be proud of me , she realizes and calm, content pride in herself, in Cassian and her Rogue team, washes over her. 

This peace carries her into the Force when it all ends, the words a sort of lullaby once again.

[vexedtonightmares]

last dance (elu ballet au) chapter huit

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.  

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii.

ao3

**For those unaware, I will only ever post my works on my tumblr or on ao3 under the name bluesxrgent. If you see my work posted elsewhere, I did not post, or give my permission for it to be posted, and I would love it if you let me know. Bisous.**

tw: brief mentions of past child abuse in this chapter

Jeudi 14:37

“Fuck,” Lucas hissed under his breath for probably the twentieth time that day. Imane glared at him, which was justified. It was like he had two left feet all of a sudden, he couldn’t get any of the moves right. Madame Rigaux had been downright terrifying in their earlier classes, and he’d hoped he would be able to get it together by the time Swan Lake rehearsals started, but no dice. 

He couldn’t keep his mind off the dream he’d had that morning, memories of him and Eliott as children coming in and out of his mind in flashes. He’d slipped out of their suite while Eliott was in the bathroom that morning but hadn’t gone to the studio, knowing Eliott might look for him there. 

It was his fault, really, if Eliott thought they were back to being friends, but he hoped some good avoidance and ignoring on his part would do the trick and send them back to mutual hatred. 

The director eyed him from the front of the classroom and Lucas snapped to attention, trying to pretend his mind wasn’t running a mile a minute. Eliott, unfortunately, was completely back in his groove, dancing better than he had since he’d been out for a week. Manon was flawless as usual, and they complimented one another very well. Lucas reached out for Imane’s hand, preparing to restart the phrase they’d been working on. 

It went more successful than the last time, but they were still nowhere near their usual chemistry. He knew Imane would chew him out about it later, but at the moment as long as he was executing the steps properly he really didn’t care if the right energy and passion wasn’t there. 

They moved along into the sequence where Odile, disguised as Odette, fools the Prince, thus allowing Von Rothbart a victory. Manon and Imane had been practicing this sequence harder than the others because it was one of the most iconic moments of the ballet, as it was the part where Odile executed thirty-two consecutive fouettes. Eliott met Lucas’ eye as the girls prepared to run through their turns before doing them in line with the choreography, and Lucas flinched away from the glance. 

They were seventeen now, and Lucas had still never been the Prince or done the fouettes like they’d promised each other back when they were eight. When he looked back up at Eliott, Eliott was wearing a slight frown, brows furrowed in concern. He raised one of them at Lucas in a silent question, but Lucas ignored it, pretending to pay attention to Manon and Imane so he knew when to come in with his own choreography. 

They were seventeen now, and Lucas was still making all the same mistakes. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t his fault, but he’d always been the master of his own demise, believing in the good in people even after they’d shown that whatever they considered good was not to be trusted.

Needless to say, the rest of rehearsals flew by in one big blur. The one surprisingly decent part of the day was how Lucas had actually done quite well in their hip hop class that day. Maybe it was all his pent up rage, but he’d killed their combination that day, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Actually, their hip hop instructor asked to record him doing the combo after class, which was usually only ever requested of people like Manon, Imane, Sofiane, and, before she’d left the school, Alexia. 

Sweating, but smiling when he finished, he packed up his things and left the classroom, running right into Eliott who’d been waiting outside the door. Lucas shot him an alarmed and confused look, but Eliott just fell into step beside him. Lucas looked at him out of the corner of his eye, even more confused by the fact that Eliott was grinning peacefully. Hadn’t he noticed Lucas was avoiding him?

“What are you doing?” Lucas asked finally. Eliott looked surprised. 

“What do you mean?”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I mean, why did you wait for me?”

Eliott shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? We’re going back to the same place and it only took a few minutes anyway.”

“Maybe I didn’t want you to,” Lucas grumbled, and Eliott’s smile finally faltered. “And maybe I wasn’t coming back to the room.”

“But it’s dinner time. Remember? We planned to make ratatouille?” Eliott teased. They had, in fact, planned to make ratatouille, because they’d watched the movie while they ate the night before, mouths watering at all the animated food even though they had no idea why. What was it about animated food that made it look so much better than real food?

“I can’t,” Lucas lied, “I promised Yann I’d go out to dinner with him.

“On a Thursday?”

“Yes.”

Eliott’s face fell further. “Oh. Um, ok then. You don’t want to shower before you go?”

Lucas wrinkled his nose. “Are you telling me I smell?”

“No, but you have a shower every day after practice before you do anything else so…”

Ok, fine, that was true. He really did need a shower. “I meant after my shower, obviously.”

“Ok, sorry.” Eliott’s voice was small and closed off. Part of Lucas was pleased that he was finally taking a hint, the other part frantic that he’d dimmed Eliott’s natural light. They walked the rest of the short distance to their room in silence. 

Once inside, Lucas beelined for the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it behind him before slumping against the side of the door. He knew that Yann had plans with his own parents that night, but that didn’t matter. Lucas could spend his time in one of the studios and pretend he’d been out with Yann for the night. If he was lucky he’d be able to come back after Eliott fell asleep. 

He was suddenly grateful he’d agreed to go to the party with the boys tomorrow night. At least then he had an excuse to avoid Eliott. Now he only had to worry about the rest of the year, which was wonderful. 

He turned the shower on, realizing he’d been in there for a while and he’d just been sitting on the floor. Even though the shower was on, he was still unmotivated to actually get in, so he laid his head against the bathtub and watched until the shower got so hot that steam formed on the mirror. 

There was a small part of his heart that couldn’t stop clenching painfully in his chest, and he didn’t know why. More accurately, he was pretty sure he did know why, and that made his heart clench even tighter. 

Vendredi 21:16  

Lucas was nowhere near as drunk as he wished he could be but, given the disastrous experience of the last party, he’d limited himself to one drink at the pregame, one drink when they got to the party. Most of his friends had no such reservations, and he frowned at the beer he��d been nursing for an hour in disappointment. 

The party was supposed to start around 22h, which meant that they would be showing up fashionably late, which meant he had to nurse this beer for the next hour and a half at least. Great. Lucas, Yann, Basile, Arthur, Manon, Daphné, Emma, Imane, and Alexia were at Emma’s house for the pregame because her parents were never around and it was pretty close to both the school and where the party would be held. 

At least Eliott and Sofiane hadn’t joined them, choosing to hang out with Idriss and one of their other friends, Alex. Lucas wasn’t even sure if they’d be going to the party and hoped to god they wouldn’t. He wouldn’t have minded seeing Idriss and Alex, but he could survive a night without them if it meant a night without Eliott too. 

Arthur laid his head in Lucas’ lap, looking up at Lucas in concern. “You look upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Lucas said. He wasn’t, really, at least no more than usual. 

“Bullshit,” Arthur sang to himself, then giggled. Arthur usually didn’t get drunk very fast, so he must have had a lot to drink already. “You’re always upset.”

“That’s not true,” Lucas argued, but it sounded strained. They both knew it was true, but Lucas hadn’t realized Arthur picked up on it. 

Arthur blinked slowly, like it required quite the effort. “It is. I don’t know why, though…” he trailed off and Lucas thought for a second he might have fallen asleep. Then, out of nowhere, his eyes snapped open and he spoke again. “You’re too hard on yourself. If only you could see what all of us see, for real. I know I don’t tell you enough, but you’re amazing, dude. Not just at ballet, but at everything you do. It makes me sad that you can’t see it.”

Lucas felt a little bit flustered. He knew Arthur was only being so honest because he was drunk, but people always said drunk words are sober thoughts, so there must have been some validity in what he was saying. Something occurred to Lucas and his eyes went wide. “Wait. you’re not… you don’t… like me, do you?”

“Of course I like you.” Arthur tapped the tip of Lucas’ nose lazily, letting his hand flop back down like a dead weight. “But I’m not in love with you if that’s what you’re asking. I wish I was, you’d probably be a great boyfriend,” he giggled. 

Even though the last part had been a drunken ramble of a joke, Lucas smiled to himself. It warmed his heart, even a small amount, to think that Arthur thought that about him. “For what it’s worth I think you’d probably be a great boyfriend too,” Lucas responded, tapping Arthur’s nose in return. 

Arthur laughed louder this time. “Yeah? I think you’re probably the first to have that delusion. But thanks.”

Maybe Lucas wasn’t the only one who had a harder time than he let on. Lucas began brushing Arthur’s hair casually with his fingers, trying to express his love and appreciation for his friend without going over the top. He wasn’t sure if Arthur understood, but Lucas would try harder to show Arthur all the ways he loved him going forward. Sometimes he wished platonic relationships were a thing. They were, he supposed, to a point, but no one ever got married platonically, or had a platonic boyfriend. Well, maybe they did, but not enough in Lucas’ opinion. 

Platonic intimacy was so deeply undervalued, he thought, though maybe it was just because he’d pushed people away so much that he had a deep craving for someone to lay with him until he fell asleep with no feelings attached other than those of a familial sort of love. Sitting there, brushing through Arthur’s hair with his friend’s head in his lap, neither of them wanting anything more from the other was exactly what Lucas needed. 

He wanted to be able to do things like this all the time without it meaning anything other than the fact that they loved each other, but not like that. Maybe he was just so touch starved that he’d take whatever he could get.

“What do you say we make one of those pacts, like in the movies?” Arthur asked, leaning into Lucas hand. 

“What pacts?”

Arthur thought for a moment, and Lucas could almost see him lose his train of thought about five times. “Like ‘oh if we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we’ll get married’. Although, you’ve probably already promised yourself to Yann, haven’t you?”

Lucas laughed. “Do you really think Yann will be single at thirty? He’ll be married by the time he’s twenty-one, mark my words.”

“Fair point. Want to make a deal, then?” Arthur held up his hand, the action looking like it took grave effort. 

Lucas moved his hand from Arthur’s hair and shook it. “I still expect you to get down on one knee, just saying.”

“Right now?”

“No, not right now dumbass. If we’re single at thirty. I also expect roses and a ring so big it puts Kim Kardashian to shame.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “Sounds doable. I also promise mind-blowing platonic sex, if you want it. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lucas responded with a laugh, shaking Arthur’s hand once. 

“What are you two doing over there? Come join the rest of us!” Alexia yelled from where everyone else was chatting a few feet away. Arthur sat up more quickly that Lucas would have thought possible, stumbling over his feet as he rejoined the group. He shot a wink Lucas’ way and Lucas couldn’t help but smile in return, wondering if Arthur would remember any of this come morning. 

“You ok?” Yann asked as Lucas approached him. “You haven’t even finished your drink.”

Lucas nodded, surprised that Yann had noticed. “I’m trying to stay relatively sober tonight. Last time I drank way too much and I still feel sick when I think about it.”

Yann nodded gravely. “Yeah, we’ve all been there.”

Lucas smiled and settled into the circle beside him. He loved how, most times, Yann understood him without question. If he’d stayed friends with Eliott all these years, he and Yann would never have formed the relationship they had now, so he supposed he had Eliott to thank for that at least.

Manon was a bit quiet and she kept averting her eyes every time he tried to meet her gaze. They hadn’t spoken much in a while, at least not about anything other than ballet, and Lucas missed her. He wondered if she was dealing with as much turmoil in her life as he was, and wondered if Charles had anything to do with it. 

For the most part, though, the nine of them laughed and joked together, some much drunker than others, but Lucas found himself actually having fun. This was what he liked, not the huge parties where all people wanted to do was get drunk and hook up. He thought maybe in another life or a parallel universe he could have been one of those people, but definitely not in this one. In this one, he just wanted to go to bed. 

Nevertheless, he participated more than he normally would have, trying to take his mind off all the things he would have been overthinking had he been shut up in his room. It worked, for the most part, and by the time they all got ready to leave for the actual party, he didn’t even have to fake his smile.   

Vendredi 22:52

The party was in full swing. Lucas and all of his friends had arrived about half past 22h, and there was already at least fifty people there. Lucas was immediately overwhelmed but pretended not to be, grabbing another beer and planning to retreat somewhere quiet for a while. Yann, unfortunately, had been anticipating this, so he dragged Lucas into the kitchen with Basile and Arthur, forcing him to participate. 

Thankfully, the kitchen wasn’t as full as the rest of the house, so Lucas was able to breathe more freely and feel less claustrophobic. “Hooking up with anyone tonight Baz?” Arthur asked, and Lucas had to fight not to roll his eyes. It would only be a matter of time until they asked him.

Basile cast a glance around the room and Lucas could tell he was looking for someone in particular. “Fingers crossed, boys,” he said. 

Arthur gestured for him to continue. “Who?” he prompted gently. 

Basile turned to look at them in exasperation. “Daphné! Duh!”

“Since when are you into Daphy?” Lucas asked, forgetting that he’d been trying to keep himself out of the conversation.

“Since forever? Besides, there were totally some vibes between us earlier, didn’t you feel them?” Basile asked excitedly. 

Arthur nodded. “Oh, totally. You’ve got this!” he encouraged, but when he met Lucas’ eyes behind Basile’s back he widened his eyes with a look that said He does not, in fact, have this. Lucas snorted into his beer, accidentally bringing the attention back onto himself. 

“What about you, then? Anyone in the crowd catch your eye?” Basile asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Arthur cut in, “Oh, come on Baz, Lulu doesn’t do romance, despite what that hoodie of his might say.”

Lucas flipped him off, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s not true.”

Yann leveled Lucas with a knowing stare. Ok, fine, maybe it was a little bit true, but not everyone had to be on the lookout for a hookup or a relationship at all times, right? There was more to life. Sure, if he found someone he really liked, maybe he’d go for it, but there had never been anyone like that and he didn’t anticipate there being anyone like that anytime in the near future. 

He rolled his eyes at his friends again. “Whatever,” he grumbled, saved from saying anything more by the appearance of Alexia.

“Hey! We’re playing fuck, marry, kill in the other room, come join!” she yelled over the pounding music. Did Lucas want to go play a game? No, but it got him out of this conversation, so he took off after Alexia, not waiting to see if his friends would join. 

It turned out that they did follow, and they sat down beside him in a big circular group. There was some faces Lucas didn’t know, but otherwise it was just the boys and the girls from the ballet school plus Basile and Alexia. 

“Yo, wait for us!” someone shouted, stumbling into the circle. The body belonging to the voice nearly tripped over Lucas’ shoulder and Lucas looked up to find Alex smiling apologetically. “Sorry, dude— oh, wait, Lucas! Long time no see bro, how are you?”

Alex had, against Lucas’ better judgement, been the first guy Lucas had ever kissed. It wasn’t a bad memory or anything, but Lucas still got a bit red in the face whenever he saw Alex. They were still friendly and everything, so if anyone was making it weird, it wasn’t Alex.

“I’m good,” he answered after a second too long, “You?”

“Fucking fantastic. Uni is so much better than lycée. Though I guess I don’t know how it compares to ballet school,” he laughed, then turned, attention called elsewhere. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

Before Lucas could even nod Alex was swept away to the opposite side of the circle with his friends who, Lucas remembered with a jolt, included Idriss, Sofiane, and Eliott. Lucas hadn’t seen Eliott yet, so he assumed he hadn’t come. Eliott didn’t look to be enjoying himself either, he looked a bit like he was trying to fold himself into a tiny little box. Their eyes met and Eliott smiled hesitantly, and Lucas averted his gaze immediately, mood souring. He was so caught up in not looking at Eliott that a few rounds of the game passed without him realizing it. 

“Lucas!” 

His head snapped up. Emma was looking at him mischievously. “It’s your turn. If you don’t answer you have to drink.”

“Um, ok.” He waited, hoping someone would jump in to save him before he had to answer. They didn’t. 

“Fuck, marry, kill,” Emma started, “Yann, Basile, and Arthur.”

Oh, that one was easy. “Fuck Yann, marry Arthur, kill Basile.”

Basile looked at him in alarm. “You had that answer ready too quickly.”

Lucas just shrugged, fist bumping Yann and Arthur as they grinned at him. Shit, it was his turn to ask then, wasn’t it? He decided to go for Alex, knowing that whatever combination of people he chose, Alex would consider his answer very seriously. “Alex.” Alex looked up at him with a wide grin. “Fuck, marry, kill… Emma, Daphné, and Camille.” 

Alex wrinkled his nose at the last name. Camille had been one of Alex’s girlfriends long ago, but was the only one whose name Lucas could remember. Alex had his answer ready quickly. “Fuck Daphné, marry Emma, kill Camille, god I haven’t thought about her in a while.”

Emma looked pleasantly surprised and Lucas narrowed his eyes between the two of them, wondering if there was something there that he’d accidentally picked up on. Alex took a swig of his own drink before turning to his target. “Eliott Demaury.”

Eliott folded in on himself even more, if possible. “Fuck, marry, kill Idriss, Sofiane, and… Lucas.” 

Eliott choked, even though he didn’t have a drink in his hand. Lucas rolled his eyes. This one should be easy. “Sofiane, can you pass me a drink?” Eliott asked a bit quietly. Sofiane furrowed his brows but did as he was asked. Eliott met Lucas’ equally confused stare for a split second before he downed the drink and sat back, gaze cast downward. Why had he refused to answer? 

Clearly picking up on whatever strange tension had begun to build, Daphné chimed in, “Oh, I know! Why don’t we play truth or dare?”

Everyone cheered at the suggestion, and Lucas wondered if it was possible to call aliens down to abduct him so he didn’t have to participate. Alexia explained that the rules would be the same, if there was something someone didn’t want to do or answer they could opt to drink instead, simple enough. She went first, daring Emma and Alex to spend seven minutes in heaven. They didn’t come back for twenty. 

After that the game went by quicker, each truth and dare blurring together a bit. At one point Lucas was dared to kiss Yann, which he drank instead. Some friendships weren’t meant to be ruined by a stupid game of truth or dare. At another Basile and Daphné made out, Basile looking a bit more eager than Daphné. Eliott somehow ended up without a shirt on and Lucas noticed that he had a small tattoo on his chest above his heart but he couldn’t read what it said from across the room. Sofiane asked Imane if she’d ever cheated on her online schoolwork and, since she didn’t drink, she’d squeaked out a small yes, which put everyone in hysterics. 

“Eliott, truth or dare?” Imane asked, still glaring at Sofiane. 

“Truth.”

“Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?” she asked, and he suddenly glared at her. She raised her eyebrows innocently, daring him to answer. 

“Yes,” he said at last, giving no further explanation. A couple more rounds passed and every time it landed on Eliott they tried to get him to divulge more information. 

“Do they know?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Boy.”

“Does he like you back?”

“No.”

“How do you know he doesn’t like you back?”

“Educated guess.”

“Who is it?”

Eliott had drank to that one, and Lucas was struck wondering who it could be. It must have been the same person Eliott told him about the other night, right? If he had to guess, his bet was on Idriss, because as far as he knew, Idriss was straight, hence why he wouldn’t like Eliott back in the same way. There were a couple more questions but it never got back to Eliott, so Lucas never learned more. 

Soon it was Daphné’s turn to ask, and she focused on Lucas. “Truth or dare?” Her words were a bit slurred and Lucas wondered how much she’d had to drink. Manon was watching her carefully, so at least there was someone who would take care of her if need be. 

“Truth.” He’d been forced to give Alexia a lap dance less than ten minutes ago, so dare was a bit too much for him at the moment. 

“Why do you hate Eliott?” she asked, and Lucas almost dropped his drink in surprise. That hadn’t been what he’d expected anyone to ask, much less Daphné. He stalled, pretending to take a sip of his beer. It wasn’t like he could tell the truth, not in front of that many people.

He realized everyone was silent, waiting. He could tell part of the truth, the superficial things, at least. “Why do I hate Eliott? Why don’t I hate Eliott? First of all, he acts so much better than everyone just because he got special private lessons from the director when we were ten years old. Manon did too, but you don’t see her acting all superior all the time. Secondly, he shows up late to every single practice. Well, not late, per se, but just on time, which is late in ballet terms, but he still gets the front spot at the barre. He’s also shit at math, which I guess a lot of people are, but he’s like really bad at it. He’s got his head so far up his own ass that he doesn’t realize when his friends are suffering or that when he skips class for a week it affects people other than himself, or maybe he just doesn’t care because the director still treats him like he shits pure gold. Well guess what? He doesn’t shit pure gold. There's a line between self confidence and narcissism, and he thinks he hasn’t crossed it, which only goes to show how much he has—” 

Lucas cut off abruptly, realizing he’d been going on a tangent longer than he’d meant to. It felt so fucking good to say all those things, but deep inside he felt horrible, because he knew that a lot of it wasn’t true. His issues with Eliott were deeper than all the crap he’d just said. He dared to meet Eliott’s eyes over the crowd of dumbfounded people, surprised by the hurt he saw. Before anyone could say a word, Eliott was up, throwing his shirt back over his head and storming out of the circle. Lucas could have sworn he heard the door slam as Eliott left the house. 

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to— he really hadn’t meant most of the things he’d said, he really hadn’t. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Without realizing what he was doing, Lucas stood up from the circle as well, running out after Eliott. He hoped everyone else would think he went to throw up or something so they wouldn’t follow. He fired off a quick text to the gang just in case. 

GROUP CREATED: Lucas Lallemant, Yann Cazas, Arthur Broussard, Basile Savory

Lucas: Not feeling well, I had to go to the bathroom. I’ll text if I feel better but if you don’t hear from me assume I went back to school -_-    

Yann: No prob bro, feel better

Arthur: :( sorry man

Basile: Not feeling as bad as Eliott I bet lmaooooo    

Arthur: Dude

Arthur Broussard removed Basile Savory from the group    

Lucas pocketed his phone, feeling better now that he knew they wouldn’t be waiting for him. Though, he supposed he’d need somewhere to stay for the night to avoid Eliott killing him. 

He thought he lost Eliott until he saw a familiar head of untameable hair storming away across the street, bounce in his step still there even when he was clearly upset.        

“Eliott!”

Eliott turned around and saw Lucas, weariness and fury mingling in his eyes, even from this distance. Of all the times Lucas had told himself that Eliott hated him, this was the only time he thought it might be true. His face was illuminated by the light of the fountain he was standing in front of making the gray in his eyes stand out more and more the closer Lucas got. 

“What?” Eliott asked, crossing his arms, but not making any moves to back away. “Don’t you think you’ve insulted me enough for one night?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to insult you,” Lucas said, even though it was a lie. Eliott knew it too, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. Lucas backtracked, “Ok, I did mean to at the time, but I came to apologize.”

“Right.” Eliott still didn’t believe him, clearly. 

Lucas didn’t know what else to say, felt like the words were on the tip of his tongue but they wouldn’t form fully. Unfortunately, when he didn’t know what to say, he got defensive. “You know what? I’m not sorry, then. You’ve made my life hell for years, this was barely a taste of what I’ve lived with.”

Eliott breathed out an incredulous gasp and shook his head. “I’ve made your life hell? Are you serious? You’re the one who’s been rude to me every chance you’ve gotten since we were like, twelve.”

“I wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t ditched me the moment it became clear I wasn’t quite up to your standards. You made the choice to abandon me, Eliott, not the other way around,” Lucas argued. 

“Are you kidding me? I was ten! What was I supposed to say when the director of the school told me to take private lessons with him? I never wanted to stop hanging out with you, but you got all jealous and I didn’t know how to make it better! What could I have done?” Eliott shot back.

Lucas laughed mirthlessly, spreading his arms wide. “I don’t know… maybe tried, even a little bit? If you knew me at all, you would have known that I was never jealous of you, I just wanted you to see that I wasn’t ok. After all, you and I both know that I never would have just ditched you for no reason at all. The school could have been burning down and I still would have waited to make sure you got out before me.”

“I was ten!”

“That didn’t make it hurt any less. And lest you forget, I tried to stay friends with you, even when I knew things would never be the same, but you just weren’t that interested in me anymore. I never really saw anyone interest you other than Lucille.” Her name felt filthy on his tongue. Lucas had never really understood why he’d hated Lucille so much, other than the fact that she’d seemed to replace him in Eliott’s life. Sofiane had too, in a way, but Lucas didn’t harbor any hard feelings his way. 

“You know what? Fuck you, Lucas. Lucille was there for me. She knew what it was like to be isolated from the rest of the group because she’d been put up on a pedestal she’d never asked to be put on,” Eliott spat. 

Oh that was fucking rich. Lucas laughed even harder and even more humorlessly. “Oh, well, excuse me for not being as talented as you. Sorry I wasn’t at a high enough level for you to deign to talk to me. I was too busy being beaten by my father to be much good in the studio, I’m afraid.”

Eliott paused. “What the fuck, Lucas? What are you talking about?”

“Like you didn’t know? Every time we hung out during the summer you didn’t wonder why I never wanted to go home, why I flinched away whenever you or your mom or your dad tried to touch me? All those bruises I pretended didn’t exist?”

“You said you were clumsy—”

“And you believed it, Eliott!” Lucas was slightly out of breath and his voice was shaking. “You shouldn’t have believed it! You knew me better than even my parents did, and you didn’t even notice. Yann noticed, but I didn’t want to talk to him about it. I wanted to talk to you.”

Eliott looked pained when he responded, “I don’t— I was ten, I was wrapped up in ballet, and I didn’t notice a lot of things, Lucas. You can’t blame me for not guessing that you were… that things were happening to you that I didn’t know about.”

“I was wrapped up in ballet too, but I still noticed every little thing about you.”

“What do you want me to say? That you were a better friend? Sure, fine, you were soooo great, is that what you want to hear?” Eliott yelled. 

“I want you to apologize!” It was all Lucas wanted, was some acknowledgement that Eliott at least understood why Lucas had distanced himself, why he couldn’t bear to be around him after a certain point. Eliott didn’t respond and Lucas clenched his fists at his sides. Was it really so hard to just say sorry, even if he didn’t fully mean it? “Too good for that?” Lucas spat, “Tell me, what’s the weather like all the way up there on your high horse?”

Eliott took a deep frustrated breath, wiggling his fingers like he either wanted to punch Lucas or a wall. Lucas was hoping for the latter, but the former was more likely. Eliott became calm all of a sudden, looking Lucas dead in the eye. “It’s actually really nice up here. Too bad you’ll never know.”

Then it was all just too much. All of Lucas’ insecurities about not being good enough bubbled to the surface on top of Eliott’s refusal to acknowledge that he’d, even unknowingly, made mistakes, and Lucas didn’t have a moment to think before he shoved Eliott, pushing him into the water of the fountain. Once his blind rage cleared he blinked with regret. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he stammered, leaning to the edge of the fountain and peering at Eliott, soaked head to toe and sitting stunned on his ass in the water. Lucas held out his hand to pull Eliott out, not realizing how trivial a mistake he’d just made. 

As he should have foreseen, Eliott grasped his hand and pulled, causing Lucas to tumble into the water as well. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, when he resurfaced, wiping water from his eyes, stumbling his way to a standing position.

When his vision cleared he noticed Eliott standing across from him, sheepish look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, that was a petty thing to say and a petty thing to do,” Eliott apologized. 

Lucas didn’t know what to say. Of all the things he’d expected from Eliott in that moment, an apology was not one of them. It wasn’t the apology he’d wanted, but it showed Eliott was capable of uttering the words. Eliott shocked him further, continuing, “I’m sorry too, about how our friendship ended. If I would have known… I’d like to say I would have done things differently, been a better friend. I’m sorry for not knowing, too, it’s not your fault for not telling me. I highly doubt I would have either.”

Lucas stared at Eliott, wondering if he was going mad, imagining the whole thing. “I’m sorry too,” Lucas said, shocking himself even further, “For everything, not just tonight. All the ignoring you and the rude comments and everything… I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean to be as dismissive as I thought you were.” 

“Why?” Eliott asked, taking a step towards him. “You really don’t have a reason to apologize. I’ve been a shitty friend.”

Lucas shrugged, regretting what he was about to say before he said it, but yearning to say it even more. “Because against my better judgement I don’t think you’re so shitty anymore. And I don’t want you to think I am either.”

The water was still splashing them from where it came up in arcs from the center of the fountain, matting their hair down to their heads. Eliott somehow looked beautiful like this, Lucas realized, and with that realization came another. Eliott looked beautiful all the time, and it wasn’t just his obvious external beauty. He was beautiful down to his core, and that was part of what had angered Lucas for all these years, but now Lucas wanted Eliott to know he thought so. He also wanted Eliott to know that he thought his true beauty came from within him, no matter what mistakes he made when he was ten years old.  

The lines between hate and love were really blurry, Lucas realized, really fucking blurry.

He held his hands up in front of his chest, cringing internally, thinking to himself what the hell are you doing? Eliott’s eyes went wide in surprise, then narrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice eerily calm. 

“In your ballet, didn’t you say that the partners come together like this when they finally meet? Once they face their fears and come together for the first time?” Lucas’ voice was no more than a hushed gasp, shallow breaths taken between the loud beats of his heart. Eliott’s fingers fluttered and Lucas almost retracted his hands, thinking himself a fool for doing what he was doing, for thinking Eliott might understand what he was trying to say with the gesture. 

Lucas screwed his eyes shut in embarrassment, seconds away from dipping back under the water and hoping Eliott would forget the whole thing had ever happened, but then he felt a brush of fingers winding and clasping into his own. He folded his hands along with Eliott’s and slowly opened his eyes, seeing the same nervous look he was certain he wore reflected on Eliott’s face. Eliott’s thumb brushed the back of his hand absently, and Lucas was lost. 

Their bodies came together in one fluid motion, Lucas didn’t even know who moved first, but suddenly Eliott’s hands were cupping his face and their lips were pressed together. Lucas ran his hands through the hair he couldn’t stop thinking about, realizing he’d been longing to do so for quite some time. Everything he’d ever wanted to do with Eliott came to him in an instant, as if there was a list he’d compiled somewhere in his head and subsequently ignored until Eliott’s kiss unlocked it. 

Eliott’s tongue swept his lower lip, and Lucas opened his mouth further, inviting as much of Eliott in as he could. He raised up on relevé to reach Eliott better, loving the way Eliott smiled against his mouth as he did so. 

The fountain was still spraying them, and they were still standing up to their knees in the water, but it somehow felt as natural as anything. Eliott pulled back a moment, breathing heavily and looking right into Lucas’ eyes. Kiss me again, Lucas tried to tell him with his eyes, Kiss me until I forget my own name. 

Eliott laughed softly and brushed Lucas’ cheekbone, tracing the lines of water down his face, his neck, his chest. Lucas couldn’t do anything but stare back, completely blinded by what they had just done, how it had made him feel. Another realization struck him, the realization that this had been the kiss he had been waiting for all along. Maybe he hadn’t hated romance after all, he’d just hated himself for wanting something he’d never thought he’d be able to have.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long, fuck,” Eliott whispered against his mouth, and Lucas pulled away a bit to look up at him. 

“Your favorite color is my eyes,” he said dumbly, and Eliott surged forward to kiss him again. Lucas knew they should probably get out of the fountain, but he also wanted to stay there forever, lest the spell be broken. “My favorite color is the color of your eyes too,” he admitted between kisses, needing to even the embarrassment factor between the two of them. 

Eliott laughed gently. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What do you say we go dry off and continue elsewhere?” Eliott suggested and Lucas shook his head adamantly. 

“I don’t want to go back to the real world.”

“Why not?”

“Because in the real world you won’t like me, and I’ll be forced to hate you again.” 

Eliott pressed their foreheads together, cupping Lucas’ cheeks with his hands. “I’ll make you a promise, then.” Lucas nodded softly, asking for him to continue. “I promise that, no matter where we are, you’re it for me. It’ll always be you, the one that I love.”

Love, love, love.

Was it too soon for love, or had they been waiting too long? “Even in the real world?”

“Especially in the real world.”

Lucas considered this. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

Eliott separated the two of them further, leading Lucas by the hand out of the fountain. When they started walking back to the school, neither one of them released their grip on the hand of the other. “Just so you know,” Lucas said as they walked, “You’re it for me too.”

He’d known it for a while, but he hadn’t wanted to know, covering it up in grudges based in miscommunication and ten year old bullshit. Eliott smiled down at him and pulled him closer as they continued their path, kissing the top of his head. Love, love, love.

[salaciouscrumpet]

Whumptober Day 9

Whumptober Day 9 Prompt: “Shackled”

Sorry for the delay, folks! I got busy with the (Canadian) Thanksgiving weekend and didn’t have the time or the solitude for writing. (Although I did get the opportunity to brainstorm a bunch of ideas and bounce them off my partner, who doesn’t write but is very enthusiastic about supporting my writing.) This one didn’t quite go in the direction I had planned, but that’s pretty much par for the course at this point ...

CW: mentions of childhood abuse and neglect (although not the focus of the ficlet)

Characters: Luke, Kate

Takes Place About 10 Years Before the Series Begins

Luke remembered this strangely disconnected, floaty feeling from his childhood. He’d been around seven or eight, and although he hadn’t realized it at the time, it had been the last time his mother had done anything approaching ‘coddling’ him. His parents had never been big on physical affection (or, indeed, any signs of affection whatsoever) and had shied away from anything that might risk turning their future warrior soft. Bumps and falls were not fussed over, nightmares were not comforted, and anything that might be seen as weakness was pushed down, hidden, or stomped out entirely. But this one time – this last time – Luke had suffered a cold that, through neglect, turned into a bad bout of pneumonia that had required hospitalization. As a general rule hospitals were to be avoided; as a child, Luke had assumed it was admitting weakness, to need medical treatment. As an adult he realized it was because he had injuries that his parents didn’t want to have to explain to authorities: mended breaks, old bruises, older scars. The doctors and nurses would see the injuries and would be obligated to report them to the police, or to children’s aid. And while most of Luke’s injuries came from training – most of them – some were the result of ‘punishment,’ and in any event the police were not going to sympathize with a hidden order’s need to produce and train soldiers, or the methods they used in doing so. 

He remembered waking up in the hospital and smelling that disinfectant smell, and hearing the beeps and whirs of medical equipment. Everything was too bright and too loud and he wanted his mama – and for once, Mama was there, at his bedside, fussing over him and smoothing down his wild dark hair and bringing him ice chips to suck on. Adult-Luke knew that his mother’s fretting was partly for show, to demonstrate to the hospital staff that she was a good mother who loved her baby boy very much. Child-Luke had just been grateful she was there, taking care of him. It hadn’t lasted, of course – it never did – and days later Luke was back at home, being interrogated by his father because the police had come calling, and just what had Luke said to them when the doctors and nurses asked him how he got those scars and bruises? He’d earned himself a new set of scars and bruises by the end of that interrogation, but at least he had the memory of his mother fawning over him once last time. 

This time he woke up to the floaty, disconnected feeling and he wasn’t in a hospital at all, although the air still smelled faintly of sanitizer (and muscle liniment, another odour he equated with comfort). He was lying on the lower half of a set of bunk beds in what looked to be the small bedroom of a cabin, and there was a soft quilt draped over him and the lights were turned down low. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, but it was quiet and peaceful and it felt safe in a way that few places in his life had. 

The memory of the last time he’d felt this way intruded on his present surroundings, and a pang of disappointment thudded through him as he saw his mother wasn’t there – and then, suddenly, the memory of why she wasn’t there rose to the surface of his mind and reality came crashing down upon him. 

There is no Knight Lukas Kandarian. 

Panic flared, and Luke tried to bolt upright only to realize his left arm was restrained, bound by thick Velcroed cuffs that looped around and kept him pinned to a railing beside the bed. The back of his hand was covered with medical tape that held a needle and tubing connected to an IV stand hung next to the bed, and he couldn’t read the tiny lettering on the bag that would identify what drugs he was being pumped with. And his other arm, his right arm, was gone, or it had to be because he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything below his shoulder, and the last thing he remembered was fire pouring through his veins and searing over his flesh and – 

Alarms blared and the dim lighting in the bedroom was suddenly turned up and the tiny, crowded room filled with people. Hands pressed Luke down; he felt fingers at his throat, weight against his shoulders, and he was being pushed back into the mattress. He flailed, trying to wrench his bound arm free, and every movement made his entire body scream with pain, just as it had when – 

“Luke!” A cool, dry hand cupped his cheek, and a pair of pale blue eyes swam into his field of vision, blocking out everything and everyone else. He blinked, trying to get the face to come into focus, but the world remained hazy. He recognized the voice, at least: Kate, his half-demon girlfriend, who he’d been seeing behind his parents’ backs for the better part of a year. 

He opened his mouth to say her name but all that came out was a raspy croak that bore no resemblance to words. His mouth was terribly dry and his lips felt cracked and torn; he remembered biting his lips – and tongue and the inside of his cheek – to keep from screaming, and he tasted blood now, along with the sticky, cottony feeling of dry-mouth and dehydration. Kate held something cold to his lips and as he sucked on the ice chip and felt that blessed wet coldness on his tongue he blinked again, fighting back the memory of his mother doing the same thing for him years ago. 

While Luke slowly and cautiously nursed his ice chips Kate turned and motioned everyone else out of the room. The rest of the crowd remained an indistinct blur, all his attention and focus fixed on her. She looked tired and pale, with deep bags under her eyes, and there was a small cut along her cheekbone that was patched with a butterfly bandage. Her dark auburn hair had been pulled back in a braid, but somewhere along the line curling wisps had come loose to frame her face. Even exhausted and battered Luke had never seen anyone more beautiful. 

The panic had receded somewhat but Luke was still painfully aware of the restraints holding his arm in place – although he had enough presence of mind to notice that his right arm wasn’t gone, was in fact covered in stark white bandages and strapped to his chest. He still couldn’t feel it, but the fact that it was still there and not sparking endless waves of agony throughout his body seemed like some kind of miracle. 

Kate saw the direction of his gaze and smiled, small lines pulling at the corners of her mouth. She had a lopsided smile, the result of an unconscious attempt at hiding crooked teeth, and it made a tiny dimple appear in her right cheek that she would deny the existence of. Her hand, when she brushed it over his face, was surprisingly cool. He frowned at that; Kate always ran warm, which normally he appreciated since he typically ran cold, but for some reason her cool touch felt just as welcome. Maybe it was just that he always welcomed Kate’s touch, no matter what. 

“You’re safe,” she said, speaking quietly, as if to a skittish animal. “Your arm is … It’s healing.” 

Luke frowned again, because he was pretty sure that shouldn’t be possible. He remembered the Scions of the Unforgiven, and a sorcerer with a willingness to use blood magic, and he knew they’d intended to cripple him before they killed him. And then he remembered that the Knights of Oberon had left him to them, and that his father – his own father – had written him off, and suddenly nothing made sense because Kate certainly didn’t work for the Scions or the Knights and Luke didn’t know where he was but he was pretty sure he wasn’t in that horrible dark barn. 

“Where’mi?” he managed to slur out, although it took several tries to make himself even that intelligible. “Why’m I ‘strained?” 

“At the camp,” Kate replied. She gave him a stern look, then began pulling the Velcro restraints loose. The rasping noise was very loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom, and when she drew the strap away from his arm Luke managed to hold back all but the smallest sighs of relief. He couldn’t believe how agitated being restrained had made him feel, how vulnerable – even though he knew, intellectually, that there was no way a simple fabric-plastic mesh would keep him pinned if he really wanted to break himself loose. There were methods of restraining Incarnates and Knights of Oberon like himself – as his captors had demonstrated – but he couldn’t imagine Kate, of all people, using such means on him.

“As to why you’re restrained,” she went on, “You kept trying to rip the IV lines out and escape. And, I mean, I get it, you didn’t know where you were and you have some pretty good reasons to want to run, but we were afraid you were gonna hurt yourself.” Luke heard her unspoken “or someone else.”

He hung his head, embarrassment rippling through him at panicking in front of strangers, but then glanced up at the IV bag. He still couldn’t read the tiny lettering, and the contents of the bag were clear like water. “What’s in the IV?”

“Now? Saline, painkillers, antibiotics, I think. Before? I know we had to give you some blood, and you were pretty dehydrated and malnourished, so there was more saline and some kind of ... mixed meal replacement stuff? I’m not sure on the specifics, but Charlie can explain it better than I can.” 

As Kate went to put the restraints away in a nearby cabinet Luke settled his uninjured arm in his lap, studying it closely. There were red marks from when he’d pulled against the fabric, and underneath that he could see faint bruising from the manacles the Scions had used on him, but overall his left arm was undamaged aside from the silvery scars he’d had for years. Every Knight had their share of scars; his weren’t even all that dramatic or impressive. He looked down at his other arm, with its crisp white bandages, and suspected the same could not be said of that limb. He wondered what it would look like with the bandages off, and felt a mixed sense of curiosity and dread at the answer. On the one hand, he shouldn’t even still have a right arm, not after what that sorcerer had done to him. On the other, what if it was grotesque and misshapen? What if the limb had been saved, but what was left was so badly damaged as to be useless? What would become of him? The Knights of Oberon had no use for broken warriors. Then he remembered that he was no longer a Knight of Oberon, and the panic set in once again, because if he wasn’t a Knight of Oberon, what was he? 

He forced himself to calm down before the alarms started blaring again, and focused on his current circumstances. “The … camp?” he repeated, latching on to the first thing he could think of and looking up at Kate through his lashes. 

Kate shrugged, sitting down again in the chair beside Luke’s bed. From the looks of things she’d become accustomed to that perch: she sat, and folded her arms on the bed, an inch or two shy of touching his quilt-covered legs. She rested her chin on her arm and looked at him. “The Alliance camp. Our headquarters.” 

Luke sucked in a sharp breath, then forced himself to let it out slowly. The Alliance were very secretive about where they made their main camp. The Knights of Oberon had been looking for years, and every time they thought they were getting close they’d arrive only to discover that the allied supernatural forces had moved, or that they’d never been there to begin with. It made him sad, the mistrust between their two organizations, but there were supernatural species within the Alliance that the Knights of Oberon had hunted for centuries, and just because those species worked together to keep one another – and the mundane world around them – safe didn’t mean the Knights weren’t still considered the enemy. Luke was amazed that the Alliance would permit him within their headquarters – then he realized why. 

“Oh,” he said, voice coming out soft and just a little bit broken. “You know. About …” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t acknowledge his being disowned out loud. Kate just nodded, chewing on her lower lip, and Luke decided to switch topics: “How did I get here? Why am I here?” 

When Kate looked up again the expression on her face took his breath away. Her eyes shone with ferocity and her jaw was set in a hard, sharp line, her mouth pinched. 

“Because you’re mine,” she said fiercely, unfolding her arms so that she could reach out and place one hand on his leg, just above his knee. Even through the quilt she felt cool to him, and he realized he was perhaps a little bit feverish and that that was why Kate was cold in comparison. “You’re mine, and I don’t give a fuck if your stupid fucking family and your stupid fucking order want to throw you away. I want you. I want you, Luke.” 

“Oh,” Luke said again. He felt a little breathless and a whole lot lost. 

Before he could find the words to express how Kate’s declaration made him feel – and honestly, he wasn’t sure the words even existed to express his gratitude and the warm kernel of happiness that arose inside him at the realization that Kate wanted him as much as he wanted her – his attention was drawn to the doorway. A tall, angular woman with rich dark skin and hair pulled back in a pile of elaborately-sculpted dreadlocks leaned up against the doorframe, a tiny small on her full lips. He didn’t know her, but he recognized Ardyn LaSalle, the leader of the Alliance – the woman known as the General for her precise and competent leadership style. According to the files the Knights had on her, the General was a werewolf – turned, not born, and therefore seen as ‘lesser’ among fellow werewolves, and yet she had risen to a position of power and respect. No one would dare put this woman down for not being a pure-blooded were, not if they valued their skin. 

“Ma’am,” he said, feeling an absurd urge to stand and salute her, or at least to stand and fall into parade rest before her. He wasn’t even sure he could sit up without help, however, so the urge remained unfulfilled, and instead he gave her a tight nod of respect. 

“Mr. Kandarian,” she said in return, giving him a nod of her own. The tiny smile widened a little, becoming something toothy and almost predatory. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at least. Katherine’s had a lot to say about you.” 

Beside him, Kate ducked her head, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. Luke found that hilarious, that she could flat-out admit to wanting him, but the idea of him knowing that she’d been talking about him to other people made her blush. He let his good hand fall over hers on his knee, and his large fingers covered hers entirely. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand; he wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant to soothe him or her. 

“So,” Ardyn LaSalle continued, still smiling, “In answer to your question about why you’re here, specifically, it’s fairly simple: The Alliance wants you, too.”

[realmonstersrp]

❛ i exist too much, i feel too much,  think too much. reality is crushing the life out of me

INTRODUCING RYU HANBYUL, OUR NEWEST STUDENT WITH THE POWER OF TELEPATHY.

WELCOME TO GUMI INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL FOR THE POWERED.

WHO ARE THEY?

PERSONALITY

(+) kind, captivating, earnest (–) overtrusting, insecure, clumsy

BACKGROUND

i.

here is a boy swatched in gold- the world at his fingertips.

ii.

ryu hanbyul is born in the dead of winter: a frail little thing, two months too early, but with a surprisingly strong set of lungs to make up for any future health complications he might end up with. he comes out kicking and screaming, red in the face, and it makes his father’s lips flatten in displeasure before his features smooth into an impassive gaze. despite being a wailer in the beginning, he’s quite the docile boy. perhaps a little too soft and lacking the proper bite needed to survive in a world like this, but he doesn’t consider it to be problem. that is, until he realizes that he’s destined to become the heir to a corporation he could care less about instead of his darling older sister. it doesn’t make any sense to him. she handles everything with far more grace than he ever could, like she was meant for it. her back held taut and eyes looking straight ahead- his own, slouched and looking anywhere but here.

his father’s expectations weigh on him far too heavily to even try to refute it. his critical eyes pinprick the back of hanbyul’s neck as he sits down with private tutors, trudges through the arduous piano lessons, and reads about a culture steeped in tradition. in summary, he learns how to be the perfect son and more.

it’s overwhelming and exhausting, but he should be happy because he has everything he could possibly want.

( what he truly wants is to be able to live his own life, and that’s the only thing his father can’t give him. )

iii.

the minute he rolls out of bed, something feels off. a low buzz sits at the base of his skull, and everything sounds muted. his mouth is dry and he aches all over, but he chalks it up to the onset of a cold, or maybe a mild flu, and doesn’t think that anything is amiss until he takes a step inside of school. almost immediately, it’s like he has been hit by the invisible force of a freight train. or at least, his head has. it’s the sort of agonizing, splitting pain one would associate with a migraine, and it comes literally out of nowhere. a swarm of thoughts begin to rattle inside his head, each one louder than the last.

he must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the hallway, a total deer in the headlights, so he all but hurries to the nearest bathroom stall to lock himself in and tries to fight the urge to vomit. the headache dulls into a bearable throb. the thoughts that aren’t his lessen, no longer fighting for his attention.

with shaky hands he takes out his phone to tap a quick message to his noona: something’s wrong with me. help.

in the heat of the moment, it’s inconsequential that he doesn’t know where exactly he stands with his older sister at times. there was no one else in the world he would go running first to other than her.

iv.

they become best friends through sheer force and hanbyul’s dogged persistence. he hasn’t quite managed to find the right frequency for tuning out other people’s thoughts completely. especially when they get too loud. so he ambles up to the other boy with a crooked grin ( the real one, not the practiced one ) and says, “hey! you’re trying out for the soccer team, right? let’s practice together.”

he doesn’t expect it to fall apart so quickly. hell, he didn’t expect for it to fall apart at all.

the thing is, he’s not even mad about it. who would be, when your best friend saves your life? his extended stay at the hospital is just a small blemish- because his heart is still beating and that is a miracle in itself. the doctors tell him that he’s lucky, and he’s got the scars to prove it. thin fractals of puckered pink flesh that go out and fade into tendrils.

so it kind of hurts that he never bothers to visit and laugh at the dumb jokes he cracks that the nurses can only smile politely at as they fluff his pillow. it’s not the same.

he can do the practiced smiles, the manners fit for a prince, the words that run smoothly off his tongue. but pretending not to care, he thinks, is someting he’ll never manage to perfect.

v.

home is where he’s hanging precariously on a precipice and doesn’t know how to let go. compared to home, gumi is a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he desperately needed. hanbyul is a natural disaster in the making, barely contained at the edges.

sure, he doesn’t get to study what he wants. he still attends business meetings with his father and has to hide how bored he is at all of it. but when he doesn’t make it into his father’s desired legacy, all the man does is sigh and shake his head. the disappointment in his voice is palpable when hanbyul finally works up the courage to tell him.

maybe falling will be easier than expected. all he needs to do is take the plunge.

WHAT CAN THEY DO?

TELEPATHY is the ability to mentally receive and transmit information. it involves being able to read, communicate with, or manipulate one’s thoughts.

— through mind reading, he can predict his opponent’s attacks before they even have a chance to occur. during this time frame, he is able to react quickly and put his team and himself out of harm’s way. this allows him to always be five steps ahead of everyone else and is useful as a strategist.

— he is able to implant false thoughts inside a person’s head. they must comply with his demands or what he asks for as long as it is simple and straight to the point. once done, the person will shake out of their stupor and realize that the impulsive thought was not done out of their own free will.

— although his power is primarily a defensive one, he is able to project psionic bolts of energy to overload a person’s mind. this does not cause any physical damage, but rather mental, knocking them unconscious.

WEAKNESSES —

— the thoughts of other people are always constant; as a result, his power does not work well in large crowds because he can easily get overwhelmed by being overridden with too much information. while he is able to tune out most people’s thoughts, it becomes increasingly difficult when there are a large amount of people near his vicinity.

— he needs to be within 25 feet of another person in order to use his power on them. subsequently, while he is able to filter through several peoples’ thoughts at once, he can only focus on one person at a time if he wants to manipulate their mind specifically, whether it is through illusions or another one of his tricks. because this requires concentration, he leaves his own body vulnerable to attack.

— more passive applications of his power can be used for longer without any obvious strain, but the ones that require his imagination or projections can only be done for up to three hours before fatigue sets in.

— those with physic shield or immunity are impervious to his power. likewise, mindless beings such as monsters do not have thoughts that can be read, and can only be subjected to the more offensive aspect of his power. as of now, he is only able to use his telepathy on other humans.

DID YOU KNOW?

looks like a total idiot, but is actually in the top of all his classes.

[mikrowrites]

To Make You Proud IV

Supernatural x Winchester!Reader

A/N: Yo let’s get this party started!!!! We’re reaching halfway through!!!

Summary: As their hunt goes terribly wrong, Y/N is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to save her brothers.

Warning: Graphic suicide!!!Major Character Death, blood, cursing, angst, sadness, fluff, 13x05 spoilers

Everything, basically, was going to hell.

Dean had burned the doctor’s masks, but the ghosts kept attacking. Y/N fired salt round after salt round.

“These guys just keep coming!” Dean yelled, Y/N’s mind whirring.

“We need to find out where the bodies are!” Sam yelled back.

Y/N lowered her rifle.

“We need to see through the eyes of a ghost.”

Her brothers turned to her, confused. “We need someone who’s dead to find the bodies!” She cried out, looking up at her brothers. She looked down and picked up a long, jagged piece of glass from the staircase. She looked at it before looking at her brothers with a strained smile.

“You need an undercover dead agent.”

“Y/N-“ Sam began but she gripped the shard of glass and pushed it into her own abdomen, twisting it. She let out a soft gasp, falling to her knees.

“Y/N NO!” Dean yelled, running and falling to his knees next to her, gripping her shoulders tight. She felt his hand press against her stomach, frantically trying to stop the blood rapidly soaking her shirt and jacket. “Kid, you don’t get to die YOU AREN’T THE ONE WHO SHOULD DIE!”

“Sh-shut up.” Y/N stuttered, placing the syringe into his hand. “G-g-give me f-five min-minutes.”

“Y/N…” Sam whispered.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut in pain, gripping Sam’s arm. Suddenly she felt all her senses submerged in white, within seconds all the pain was gone.

Dead.

—————

She opened her eyes again, finding herself standing on the staircase in the asylum. Her brothers, her body, and the salt circle were nowhere to be seen. She looked down, seeing the patients floating around.

“Holy shit…” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Hello.” Y/N turned to see a woman standing at the end of the staircase. “I am here to he-“

“Not now sunshine.” Y/N walked past the Reaper, looking around.

“Y/N Winchester is in The Veil!” She frantically whispered, alerting the other Reapers.

“Shawn!” Y/N saw the boy sitting against the wall.

“Y/N? What happened?!” He asked.

“Shawn, I need to know what happened to you. I have five minutes before I’m out of here.” She responded calmly, Shawn nodding.

He then explained how he was possessed to go back to the asylum through the mask and the doctor made him kill himself.

Suddenly Y/N heard her name spoken from the staircase. She looked up to see a woman with a scythe. Death’s Scythe.

“Billie?!”

—————

Sam checked his watch, watching the hands tick. Dean only looked down at the face of his little sister, who he was sworn to protect. Dead. Her face was pale, almost peaceful even.

“Dean.” Sam said. He looked up to see him pointing at his watch.

5 minutes.

Dean took the syringe in his shaking hand, injecting it into her arm. He was ready to hug her, to apologize, to be who he promised he’d be.

The two brothers waited for her to wake up from the eternal sleep she had placed herself in.

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice was barely a whisper.

“No…” Dean cried, “no, no, NO!!”

She wasn’t waking up.

—————

“Billie?!”

“Y/N.” She acknowledged.

“How’re… Cas killed you!” Y/N stuttered.

“As the first Reaper to die after your brother Dean killed Death, I took the job.” Billie said, putting the scythe down and walking up to Y/N. “I wanted to see how the hole in the universe was ripped open.”

“Jack.” Y/N breathed. “What do you want with me?”

“Y/N, The Winchesters are important to the universe. You and the boys still have work to do.” Billie sighed, resting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’ve felt your pain and sadness. I know how much you wish to take your life and leave this world. You feel forgotten. But your brothers love you. And I see all the work you still have left. You better get started.”

“First, Free all of the ghosts. Move them on.” Y/N commanded.

Billie nodded, as Y/N watched their bright souls ascend, including Shawn’s.

Death turned to her, a smirk on her face. “Your choices will decide how you die. So choose the good ones. And choose the bad.”

Suddenly everything went black.

—————

Y/N lurched forward, coughing and holding her stomach. She heard her brothers gasp out her name as she took deep, raggedy breaths. Her whole body ached, and the previous abdominal wound had vanished. Dean tossed the syringe aside and rested his arms on her shoulders, looking at Sam with relief.

“It’s alright, Y/N/N. You’re okay now…”

“I’m sorry, that was a real shitty thing to do.” Y/N leaned into her brother’s chest, feeling relieved to be able to breathe again.

“I’ve done worse.” He admitted, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m just glad you’re back with us.” Sam joined in as the all held each other.

But Y/N’s mind continued to process what Billie had said.

And what Dean had yelled 24 hours ago.

————

Y/N had no idea when she had fallen asleep in the back seat of the Impala. Surprisingly, being dead is tiring. But she had fallen into a dreamless sleep, until she felt a hand shake her shoulder.

“Y/N,” Dean’s deep voice said, shaking slightly, “You need to wake up.”

Y/N yawned, Dean helping her out of the Impala, her sore body protesting. She looked up and everything… stopped.

She didn’t know if she was even breathing. Her eyes locked with the pair of the most familiar baby blues in the world, tears welling up in her eyes.

“How-“ Y/N began, but Castiel wrapped his arms around her, silencing her.

“I’m glad you’re alive.”

“You too.”

Tag List: @fangirl-moment-x @lizwinchester16

(Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!!!)

[shesdreamingofamonster]

His Queen (I)

Word Count: 1,595

Genre: Action, Romance, Mafia AU

Ship: Reader x Yixing/Lay

Summary: Your mafia leader boyfriend warned you about how much trouble he could be. But you didn’t listen. That is why you ended up being kidnapped in the middle of the day.

II III IV V VI VII VIII Epilogue

You were his queen. The Bonnie to his Clyde.

When you first saw him at the club that you frequented quite often, you were drawn to him. The way that his body moved with yours on the dance floor. “I’m bad news baby, you should leave when you have the chance.” You didn’t listen, you never did. Thank god for that. He was the best mistake you ever made.

He had made his way up the ranks to become the leader of his mafia group. A family business is how he explained it. “We were bred for this,” he would explain as you were laying on his chest after making love. His hands rubbing your back as you played with his hair.

Here you were sitting in a chair with your hands tied behind your back and a piece of fabric in your mouth which was taped over. You were annoying the assailants too much that they suggested “fixing that pretty little mouth of yours permanently.” You had been walking outside in the middle of the day when three men held a gun to your head and shoved you into their van. You had managed to knock one of them out before the other two hit your head so hard that you lost consciousness yourself.

Yixing had taught you self-defense. “I have as many enemies as I have friends, you need to learn how to fight baby.” You had nodded as he gestured for you to walk towards him. He then told you exactly where and how to hit someone if they approach you. “Use your elbows. You can also use your height to your advantage by ducking.” You hadn’t taken him seriously at first, just trying to turn him on by forcing him to the floor and kissing him. “This could save your life one day, at least until I can get to you.” You pouted but stood up and continued training.

“Mr. Zhang has a nice little play thing. Do you think we could take her for a spin?” One of the men grabbed your chin and examined you closely. You jerked your neck back to get away from his touch when he slapped you in return. “Your lover boy isn’t here to protect you, we can do whatever we want.” Another man appeared as you regained your vision which had blacked out for a second since you sustained a head injury on top of the slap. He seemed to be the one in charge, the way that all the others tensed up when he walked into the room. “I suggest you keep your hands off her, she is the only leverage we have.” The other man bowed and backed away slowly. You looked up defiantly at this new stranger. He had a scar down the left side of his face, and what looked like a glass eye. You wondered what happened, but not enough to actually care. “I hope that face of yours isn’t too damaged.” He also caressed your cheek with his hand. You cringed away from him and he let out an amused laugh. “I see, only he can touch you.”

He was interrupted by a loud banging outside the warehouse. You heard some familiar voices which made your adrenaline kick in. It wasn’t long before Yixing walked in with Minseok and Baekhyun at his side. His stone-cold eyes met yours and softened for a moment until he noticed your condition. “What have you done to her?” The purple bruise on your cheek was obvious. His fists clenched at his sides as he tried to keep himself from doing anything he would regret. “Nothing that won’t heal. I would have enjoyed seeing how heavenly that body of hers is.” The made placed a hand on your thigh and moved it closer to your core. “Don’t you fucking move another inch!” You were reeling back in your chair disgusted by the feeling of this man’s hands on your body. Yixing promptly retrieved his pistol from his belt as the boys followed suit. Of course, this led to your kidnappers raising their own weapons until their leader lifted a hand signaling them to withdraw. “Alright, you played by my terms so I will play by yours,” the man moved away, allowing you to breath once again. All you wanted to do was run into Yixing’s arms. Even if he had to kill all the men in this room other than his boys. You realized how cold you had become, his world had changed you, but it was the world that you wanted to be a part of. You could live any way as long as it was with him.

“I have the rifles and money that you wanted.” Yixing turned to look at Minseok who was holding large duffle bag. You assumed they wanted something in return, at least it wasn’t like Yixing’s group had captured this man’s loved ones. Min moved forward and placed the bag on the ground. A loud thud rang through the room. If the bag was heavy, Minseok sure didn’t seem to strain holding it. One of your kidnappers moved forward to examine the materials inside. After ruffling around the contents for a few minutes he closed the bag and lifted it, bringing it over to their boss.

“We held up our end, now give me Y/N. And you better hope she is unharmed.” Yixing’s demanding voice was quite piercing. You hardly ever heard him speak this way, not even to his own men. There was a common understanding between them. They were brothers who would do anything to keep each other alive. Even if it meant sending some of them away like Yifan, Luhan and eventually Tao. The man gave a devilish grin and gestured for Yixing to walk to you. Tentatively he began, Baekhyun and Minseok keeping their guns up in case anyone tried something. His pace quickened until he finally reached you. He pulled the tape off as delicately as possible and you spit out the fabric. He then moved to untie your hands, his body pressing tightly against yours.

As soon as your hands were free, you wrapped them around him and buried your face into his chest. Not out of fear, but out of longing. He pulled your face up to examine it, “How did you get this bruise?” He looked around waiting to see if anyone would give any tells. “They slapped me. More specifically, he did.” You pointed at the culprit. “Hey now,” he laughed throwing his hands up in defense, “the bruise will go away.” Yixing turned to the leader, “you promised she wouldn’t be harmed. And it looks like she has a head injury by the way there is some dried blood on her forehead.” You hadn’t even known that they broke skin when they hit you earlier. The man gave a sly grin. “She isn’t dead or missing a limb. As far as I’m concerned she is unharmed.” Yixing’s eyes filled with rage. “Who knocked her out?” His look must have frightened one of the men who answered by throwing the same man who slapped you under the bus. You do remember his face being the last one you saw before you blacked out. Yixing turned to Baekhyun and nodded.

A second later there was a bullet through the man’s head.

You frantically looked up at Yixing and then to the leader to read his reaction. Surprisingly, he was unfazed. “He was expendable. No ties to anyone, no harm done.” Relieved that Yixing hadn’t just caused a terrible scene, you took in a deep breath. “Take the girl and leave, our deal is done.” Yixing nodded and walked you back to join the boys. He turned to bow to the leader gracefully after leaving you in Minseok’s care. “I hope to never meet again.” The man nodded, “Me as well.” And with that you all walked outside of the warehouse.

As you climbed into the van, you noticed that Sehun and Jongin were waiting. “Nice to see you safe again love,” Jongin leaned over and kissed your cheek sweetly while Sehun gave you a caring smile. These boys had become your family just as much as they were Yixing’s. Yixing slid next to you in the middle row of seats while Minseok got into the driver’s seat with Baekhyun opposite of him. Yixing’s warm arms wrapped around you as he kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry that you were involved in this baby. I never wanted you to be in harm’s way.” You squeezed him tightly and kissed his neck, “I know what being with you means, this is just one of the possible repercussions. But I am alright, and that is all that matters.”

Minseok started driving, the warehouse in the rearview mirror. You noticed an odd remote in Yixing’s hand. Confused you looked up at him, “What does that do?” He looked down at you with a sly smirk. “It will make sure that those men will never hurt you again.” It took you a little bit to put two and two together when Baekhyun spoke up. “We are far enough away now.” Your eyes widened a bit, realizing what was going to happen. Yixing nodded and proceeded to press down on the large red button in the middle of the control. A few moments later there was a loud rumbling sound.

You turned around in your seat pulling away from Yixing to see the burning remains of the building you were just held captive in.

Hi everyone! I was thinking of making this a multipart series. Let me know if that is something you would like. :) <3

Yixing is my ultimate bias so this would be quite fun.

Next Part 

Masterlist

[jadehqknb]

Hiiiii, so I was thinking a bad boy imagine where the reader is Kise or Kuroo's girlfriend and she's very supportive of him being in a gang and she's also very affectionate and sweet, but some of her friends warned her about him bc he's very flirty and she's very protective and jealous. So she finds him and another girl in a compromising position but it's not the case tho and so she leaves and she's rly hurt. She gets kidnapped and he saves her and plz plz plzzz happy ending?? Thank youuuu

Hello! So, since I paired up two ofthe asks that made the randomizer cut I re-randomized the remaining asks andthis one came out on top to be the last of the month! Thanks!

“You know he’s, like,always all over other girls, right?” How could she have ever defended himfrom that after seeing what she did? Her boyfriend, with her…the image wasburned into her memory, searing away the love she felt for him replacing itwith a deep-seated ache. After everything she’d done for him too! She supportedhim despite her family disowning her for aligning herself with a rival gangmember. She believed in him even though all her friends told her he was nogood, that he would break her heart because he was a flirt! She knew he wasoften sent for coercion against female members of rival gangs, his charm andgood looks breaking past any defenses they put up.

But now the same had happened to her. She’d trusted him and-

Her thoughts abruptly cut off as a searing pain shot throughher head. Blinking rapidly, the last image before her eyes were the faces ofwho she knew to be his enemies, the ones who’d sworn revenge upon him. With ashuddering sigh, she fell unconscious, morbidly thanking the gods for a quickrelease from the pain of his betrayal.

Kise thought he knew anger, butthis rage, it’s fierce enough to scare himself. Before him sits his love, theone person in the whole world who understands and loves him for everything heis. She knows his darkest secrets, his deepest fears, his heart’s desires, allof it.

And now she’s suffering because ofit.

It’s clear they’ve roughed her up,her blood-soaked shirt is evidence enough of that. But there’s something else,something deeper and more underhanded that’s happened because when her headrises and their eyes meet (one of hers swollen), there’s no expression ofgratitude, no release of breath in relief of his arrival. If anything, a lookof utter agony spills across her face.

“Just leave me Kise,” the use ofhis last name by her voice startling him, “they can’t hurt me any worse thanyou have.”

“________-cchi, what are you-“

“Don’t call me that! Don’t you evercall me that again! How could you? How could you do that, to me!” she shouts,voice echoing in the cavernous warehouse.

Around them are the bodies of herkidnappers, most unconscious but a few dead. Kuroko and Kagami blink inconfusion, both of them unsure exactly what to do. Clearly, _______ needs helpbut as Kise starts moving towards her again she screams out, “Stay the fuckaway from me!”

“Get her,” Kise grunts and Kurokomoves to her in his stead.

“Come on, ______-chan, let’s getyou out of here,” the blue haired sniper says, untying her restraints. Shefalls against him, thoroughly spent, staining his suit with blood. Kagami movesnext, leaning down and lifting her up easily.

The sight of her snuggling into thecrook of the red head’s neck makes Kise’s blood boil but there’s no time forthis right now. She needs medical attention and rest. Then, maybe, hopefully,they can work through whatever lies it is they told her to turn her againsthim.

Midorima clicks his tongue as hecleans her wounds, hooking up an IV to rehydrate her body.

“She needs rest and no furtherstrain for at least a week,” he advises when he exits her room. “Until then,Kise, I recommend you not speak with her. She was thoroughly distraught, mumblingsomething about you betraying her. If you were to try to talk to her in thisstate I fear she’ll tear the stiches and go into shock.”

Kise nods his understanding, tearsof frustration stinging his eyes.

The week crawls by but finally hegets clearance from Midorima to seek an audience with her. Initially, sherefuses, but under the surprisingly gentle persuasion of Kasamatsu, relents andallows Kise to enter her room. Her eyes are hard, lips pressed in a tight lineas he enters.

“Say what you want quickly then getout,” she snaps, turning her head so she doesn’t have to look at his goldeneyes, the eyes that melt her.

“_______-cchi,” he begins, taking aseat on the bed, “I don’t know what those goons told you to make you so upsetbut-“

She whips her head to face him,eyes full of fury. “They didn’t do a thing except break my body! YOU broke myheart, Kise!”

“What are you talking about?” hegrunts.

“I saw you,” she says lowly, voicefull of anger, “I saw you that day kissingthat girl and I know you weren’t onassignment! So, who was she? Hmmmm? Your little side whore? Your plaything forwhen I’m away? Tell me! Who was so important that you would throw awayeverything we built together?!”

She’s shouting again, voice drawingattention to the door and Midorima enters with a scowl on his face. Grabbinghers, Kise directs her attention to his own, eyes boring into her with anintensity she’s never seen before. “That girl had an allergic reaction to some ofthe food at the magazine shoot. I was giving her mouth to mouth to keep heralive until paramedics arrived.”

“What?” she breathes out.

“Yeah, it was just her and me andmy assistant at the time because everyone had to go pick up various items forthe shoot. She took a bite of a cream cheese puff thing and it had shellfish init. I guess when you came in was the same time my assistant was in the backally waiting for the ambulance. I never even knew you were there!”

Tears flood her eyes, her facescrunching up as she sobs against his chest. “Ryouta,” she chokes out and hesighs in relief, “I’m so, so sorry! I’m so sorry I doubted you! I…I’m so sorry!”

“It’s ok, shhhhhh. It’s ok,_______-cchi.”

Flying backwards, her head smackingthe headboard she cries out, “Even if I was mad, I didn’t tell them anything! Ididn’t! I…I just couldn’t betray you!”

He kisses her deeply, smoothingdown the back of her hair. “I know, baby, I know. Just, settle down, ok? It’sall ok now.” He looks over his shoulder, nodding to Midorima he has this undercontrol and the doctor retreats, shutting the door quietly. Carefully, Kisesettles into bed next to her, lying down and drawing her into his arms.

“Just next time, stick around toyell at me so you don’t get kidnapped again, ne?” he asks somewhat playfully andshe smacks his arm.

Kissing her again, he sighs intoher mouth. She may be a bit of a handful sometimes, but as long as it’s hishands handling her, he’s happy.

A cry of pain pierces Kuroo’s heart. That’s _______’s voice, callingout for mercy. “I don’t have anything to live for anymore, just kill me, please.”

Her pleas sear his soul, why would she say that? Isn’t he worth living for? Didn’t she believehe’d come for her? That he’d save her? Rushing in, guns blazing, he cuts downthree of her abusers in under thirty seconds. Yamamoto handles the remaining twowhile Lev rushes to get her down from where they’ve suspended her on a chain.

Kuroo sees her clinging to the half-Russian, sobbing thanks intohis shoulder. But when she raises her head and sees him, she goes silent, eyes cold.

“Come on, _______-chan, I’ll take you to Kuroo-san,” Lev offers,turning to walk towards his leader.

“No, Lev-kun, please, just, take me home,” she begs.

“Eh? But he’s right there! Don’t you know how worried he was? Howmuch he cried when we heard you were taken?” he exclaims, setting her down butstill holding her upright.

Normally, Kuroo would smack him for his big mouth but right now,it surprisingly seems to be helping him, because Kuroo can see hesitationshift the fierceness of her gaze. “He…cried?” she asks, voice small.

“Of course he did! Kuroo-san can’t live without you, ______-chan,we all know that!”

“Babe,” Kuroo calls softly, taking slow measured steps towards her,as though he’s afraid she’ll tear away from Lev’s grasp, “why did you tell themto kill you?”

“Eh? You said that?” Lev asks horrified.

“Lev, let’s go,” Yaku snaps, yanking the taller male away.

Her body shakes with the effort to stand but Kuroo won’t touch her,not if she doesn’t want him to. A small whimper of pain draws him closer, armsstretching out in a silent request for permission. She barely finishes the nodbefore Kuroo rushes forward, drawing her into a long embrace. Kissing hertemple, he whispers into her hair, “Tell me why.”

A shudder slices through her body, drawing more winces andstammers of pain but she manages to choke out, “I…I saw you. I saw you withthat girl and I just….oh god, Kuroo I thought I’d lost you and I just didn’twant to live anymore!”

“Saw me with…”he trails off, mind desperately searching for whatshe’s talking about.

Then it hits him. Suppressing a laugh, of relief or mirth or bothhe’s not sure, Kuroo pulls her head back to look in his eyes. “Oh my prettylittle kitty, how could you think I’d ever want anyone but you? That girlwas so distraughtshe almost ran into traffic so I grabbed her and tugged herback before she got hit by a truck. I guess you just saw the aftermath and insteadof talking to me,” he flicks her head making her pout, “you run off and getyourself nabbed in a dangerous territory.”

Kuroo draws her closer, kissing her cheek to avoid her split lip. “You’remy one and only, baby, never, ever doubt that again.”

She nods, throwing her arms around his neck and crying into hisshoulder. He easily picks her up, walking to the waiting car and the rest ofthe gang who all breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of her safe and whereshe belongs: in Kuroo’s arms.