#but I still couldn’t get approved with chases income

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

God, I regret this already.

[barzzal]

Could you do 13 from the physical affection prompts ? Maybe the reader looks at Mat and their baby play and y/n is so happy and feels so lucky to witness this moment and then decides to go and play with them 🥺 -🐛

kissing someone’s forehead

“daddy, no!!! get him not me!!” your son, calvin, zoomed past you towards the garden, his giggles echoing in the air, startling you for a moment whilst you busied yourself with setting up the outdoor dining table.

as you hugged the plates close to your body, the urgency to remind your son to be careful exudes off you. you were about to meet him down one of the hammocks situated across the garden when your husband, carrying your three-year-old, calix, came straight out the huge sliding doors seconds after your eldest did.

you cautiously place a hand on your chest, attempting to suppress what seems to be an incoming heart attack.

“goodness gracious.” you breathed out, clutching the plates hard as you watch how mathew carelessly sprung your youngest into thin air, “again! again!” calix demands in between giggles, mat tickling his middle once he’s crouched to put him down.

mat calls on his first born and motioned their way, signaling him to come. as per you, you watch your little family from afar. admiring the bliss covering such scenery despite having to live your whole life with such energetic boys who happened to be as competitive and spirited as their father.

a quiet smile forms on your lips, in awe of what was perfectly laid out for your eyes to see. one that despite all the years that’s passed by, depicted how said scenery was still undeniably surreal for you.

you were pulled back from your selfish thoughts when you heard calvin’s voice embracing the entirety of the place, “mom!”

“come out here, mom!” mathew adds with a giant grin on his face. his hand shielding his crinkled eyes from the sun just so he could see you.

you take no second guesses and do what you were told. you carefully place the plates onto the wooden table and tread your way towads them.

with an arched brow, a sly smirk, and a hand on your waist, you meet them and say “what are you boys up to, huh?”

your little boy, who’s embraced by mathew’s free arm looked at you the same way his father does when he knows he’s done something you’ll never approve of.

“mommy?” he asks for you to come down. you only smile at him– holding his brother in your arm when he comes near you, “yes, bubs?”

calix exchanged look with calvin before looking onto mathew’s afterwards. mat’s eyes landed on yours for a second but was quick to pull away just so he could reassure calix that everything was going to be okay.

“you can do it. go on, ask mom what you asked me and i’ll give it to you.” he says, a hopefull look rests in his eyes as he rubs calix’s back.

you watch your little boy fiddle with his fingers for a while, his head pinned hard on the grass, trying to figure out the words he’s yet to have a full grasp on.

“we want a baby sister.”

a sudden wave rush thru your veins, meeting mat’s gaze at once— sending him a silent plea that you couldn’t go through the hell of going into labor for the third time. to which mat only answers with an unknowing shrug, obviously not trying to hide the fact that such idea wasn’t completely off his mind.

“um, why do you want one exactly?” you ask, running your eyes in between calvin and calix. you were pushing some of the hair that went astray on his face when calvin chimes in. “because we need another player for my team! dad and calix always gang up on me, i need a team so i can tag them too...” he pouts, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, admittedly making a compelling case.

“i can play!” you retort, parting your head so you could take his chin up, smiling in an effort to forget their recent request. a thing that’s made you miss how mat rolled his eyes, stifling a chuckle, evidently amused at how amazing you were at handling the matter.

“but mom, you’re bad at games.” calvin says without an ounce of guilt in his eyes as he spoke of an obvious truth.

you shot him a hurtful look, pretending— (well, a little), that you take offense of his remark. “hey! i rock at scrabbles, young man.”

“mom, there’s a reason why we play tag, and that’s scrabbles.” mat erupts with laughter upon hearing the bluntness of his kid. catching your competitive ass off-guard as your boys team up against you.

“okay, fine. why don’t we play tag first and then we eat? i’ll be on your team. what d’ya say?” you bob your brows up and down, trying to convince your eldest son whose eyes were as captivating as his fathers, enough for you to reconsider their simple wish.

calvin sighs, shoulders receding in defeat, already knowing that he was, just like all the other times, in the losing team. “fine.”

you watch the kids run off and chase each other just before you and mat were able to gather yourselves from the ground.

mat stands close to your behind, whispering words in your ear, a soft tone in his voice bright as day, “i think i want one too.”

you quickly turn your back to face him, the same familiar expression painted on your face for when he tries to have the talk with you.

“oh you do?” you ask him, making mat smile wildly, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist as he plants a kiss on your forehead, letting himself drown in you and be a husband first for you know he’s got to do the dad thing the moment you break off.

“i want a girl, y/n.��� he genuinely says, asking you to try again. “once you’re able to push two persons out of you, i might reconsider.” you say half laughing.

“that’s unfair, you know i can’t do that.” he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“hm. alright, you’ll just have to catch me then— tag! you’re it!” you shout as soon as you untangled yourself from his hold, joining your little boys, now screaming under their own adrenaline.

you see mat’s smug smile under the sun, sending horrors your way as you’ve let yourself forget another one of your fatal flaws.

you married a competitive man.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Paygo, false consciousness and the IRS

John Steinbeck diagnosed an important American pathology in 1966 when he called the US a nation of “temporarily embarrassed capitalists” — people who see themselves as the wealthy-in-waiting and therefore fight policies that reduce the power that comes from wealth.

It’s a restatement of Engels’ idea of “false consciousness,” and it’s the result of a deliberate strategy on the part of wealthy people — many of whom believe that they were literally genetically destined to be wealthy — to convince the rest of us that “anyone can succeed.”

Part of the false consciousness program is the money story that goes like this: the US government takes away “taxpayers’ money” from “makers” to fund “programs,” the bulk of which go to the “lazy takers,” who experience the “moral hazard” of subsidized unemployment.

But of course, that’s not how money works. Money originates with the federal government (and its fiscal agents, the banks). In order for the public to have money to pay off its tax liabilities, the government must first spend that money into existence.

The IRS doesn’t take our tax dollars, pile them up, and give them to Congress to spend on programs. When the IRS taxes our money, they annihilate it, removing it from circulation. When Congress spends, new money comes into existence.

The US government can’t run out of money any more than Apple can run out of Itunes gift cards. It can spend too much money — so much that prices go up because too many dollars are chasing too few goods — but it can’t run out of money.

Fed spending is constrained by resources (what’s for sale in dollars) not money (how many dollars there are). If the ratio of dollars to resources gets out of whack, there’s a risk of inflation.

There are many ways to fix this ratio. For example, the government usually issues T-bills (savings bonds) whenever it spends more than it taxes. When you buy a T-bill, you take dollars that might circulate around the economy, chasing goods and labor, and you sequester them.

A T-bill is just a dollar you’re not allowed to spend. In exchange for surrendering the right to spend your dollars for 1, 5, 10 or more years, the government offers you interest, trickling out that money over a long period.

That way the government can buy things today without bidding against your dollars.

But that’s not the only way to fight inflation while spending new money into existence. The other major way is taxation: simply removing money from the economy and annihilating it.

Taxation fights inflation. When the government runs a deficit, that means that it created more money this year via spending than it destroyed via taxes. The “government deficit” is the “public surplus” — the money left in the economy for all of us to spend on stuff.

Likewise, when the government runs a “surplus” that means it taxes more money out of existence than it spends into existence. In a year where the government runs a surplus, it means that the power of the private sector — you and me — to buy stuff has decreased overall.

This is fine if there was too much money to begin with — if inflation was kicking off — but if there’s not enough money in circulation (e.g. if there’s a recession), it just makes things worse…but not for everyone.

When the economy is starved of money, banks go to work creating new money through loans. These loans pay interest (to rich people like bank shareholders and people who securitize and buy debt).

That’s the one-two punch of spending cuts during a downturn:

I. The real economy is starved of the capital it needs to pay workers and make things for workers to buy;

II. The financial economy grows as desperate real-economy firms borrow from banks to keep the lights on.

Despite all their talk of “spending taxpayers’ money,” the wealthy understand how money works. That’s why they were totally indifferent to the running $1t/year deficits created by the Trump tax-cuts (and likewise about the Obama finance bailouts).

Giving money to rich people causes asset-bubbles (driving up the prices of houses), but not inflation (a sustained rise in the price of all goods). That’s because rich people can’t buy enough stuff (fridges, cars, oranges) to drive up prices.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/08/howard-dino/#payfors

After you’ve bought three houses and three SubZero fridges and filled them with the beef of three Kobe cows and three cases of Moet, there’s still a LOT left over (even if you’re Jeff Bezos and buy a superyacht with its own, smaller superyacht).

Those leftovers go to socially useless things, like buying houses to turn into rent-generating slums (Wall Street is fast becoming America’s biggest landlord, and single family homes are sold for cash to investment funds instead of families).

And they go to influence campaigns designed to make regular people defend massive cuts to the IRS and opposition to public spending on infrastructure, education, health, and other necessities.

This isn’t just about Republicans. For years, the Democratic leadership has supported “balanced budgets” (spending so little that no new money is left in the economy after all taxes are paid).

The “paygo” rule (which requires all new spending to be matched with cuts or tax-hikes) is religion for the likes of Pelosi and Schumer. That’s why the Democratic caucus is mired in stupid arguments about “how we will pay for the stimulus.”

As bad as the paygo rule is, though, Republicans have made it worse, by demonizing and starving the IRS. Paygo means that the US government operates under the artificial constraint of only spending if it can make cuts or raise taxes.

Raises taxes is really unpopular, for obvious reasons.

Now, raising taxes on the 1% — who have a lot of excess money that’s fueling political corruption and asset bubbles — is one way around this.

Theoretically, taxing the 1% should have a 99% approval rating.

But canny Republicans have figured out how exorcise temporarily embarrassed capitalists about the “unfairness” of taxing their bosses, in part by just flat-out lying about who new taxes would implicate.

But there’s yet another way to satisfy paygo’s artificial constraint, without changing the a single word in the tax-code: simply fund the IRS so that it can collect the trillions that the ultra-wealthy illegally avoid in tax-payments every year.

But this strategy is also a bust. The GOP campaign to destroy the IRS has been too successful.

It’s a longrunning campaign, but it achieved liftoff in 2013 when the Tea Party baselessly accused the IRS of discriminating against conservative groups seeking nonprofit status.

The work-the-ref strategy paid off, providing political cover for deep cuts to the IRS and putting IRS staffers on notice so they green lit every dark money group that applied for nonprofit status, no matter how obviously corrupt they were.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/investigations/fallout-from-allegations-of-tea-party-targeting-hamper-irs-oversight-of-nonprofits/2017/12/17/6403c1c0-c59e-11e7-a441-3a768c8586f1_story.html

After the cuts, the IRS grew easier to discredit. Understaffed and under siege, the agency’s behavior grew erratic, then indefensible. There were runaway automated processes that sent out erroneous property-seizure notices that no one could rescind:

https://theintercept.com/2019/01/14/irs-shutdown-federal-government-shut-down-irs-asset-seizures/

Then there was the aftermath of the Equifax breach, where the IRS first told Americans that it didn’t matter because they’d already been doxed by other bad companies:

https://thehill.com/policy/cybersecurity/355862-irs-significant-number-of-equifax-victims-already-had-info-accessed-by

Then came news that the IRS couldn’t cancel Equifax’s no-bid, $7.5m anti-fraud contract because it didn’t have the resources to do its own fraud prevention (Equifax eventually lost the contract because it served malware from its anti-fraud site).

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/equifax-irs-data-breach-malware-discovered/

The rich waged a successful all-out war on the IRS. Take the Global High Wealth unit. For every hour an auditor from GHW worked, they brought in $4500 in taxes the super-rich had dodged. Even by the topsy-turvy logic of “government as a business,” this was good business.

After a concerted harassment and political influence campaign, the GHW abandoned the super-rich and switched to the merely wealthy, bringing in less money and pissing off a lot more people.

The other shoe dropped in 2019, when the IRS admitted it had switched to preferentially auditing poor people because it was too politically and legally fraught to audit rich people, even the most flagrant cheaters.

https://www.propublica.org/article/irs-sorry-but-its-just-easier-and-cheaper-to-audit-the-poor

That was the first year that America’s 400 highest earners paid a lower tax rate than the average American worker:

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/10/06/opinion/income-tax-rate-wealthy.html

The IRS’s transformation into a facilitator of illegal wealth retention by the super-rich and petty harassment of the rest of Americans made them very easy to hate.

To that, add the concerted corporate campaigns to use the IRS to rip off workers.

For example, for 20 years, Intuit lobbied the IRS not to make tax-filing automatic, painless and free, ensuring that Americans would continue to pay billions to send data to the IRS that it already had:

https://www.propublica.org/article/inside-turbotax-20-year-fight-to-stop-americans-from-filing-their-taxes-for-free

Reading the IRS’s internal emails from this battle reveals an agency in retreat, where demoralized and ineffectual government employees simply rolled over for one of the greatest ripoffs in American history:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-tried-to-hide-emails-that-show-tax-industry-influence-over-free-file-program

Intuit wanted to rip us off with taxes. Microsoft, by contrast, just wanted to break the law. Working with KPMG, the convicted monopolist created a “transfer” scheme of breathtaking illegality, using its tax-savings to bankroll its war on the IRS:

https://www.propublica.org/article/the-irs-decided-to-get-tough-against-microsoft-microsoft-got-tougher

Which brings us to today, where Democrats are held hostage to the “payfor” rule and trying to figure out how to mobilize the trillions Biden has pledged for infrastructure, health, and care.

Republicans — pushing the big lie of “taxpayer money” — are dogwhistling hard. Senator John Thune, responding to Biden’s proposal for $80b for the IRS, says any tax enforcement efforts “must strike an appropriate balance between taxpayer responsibilities and taxpayer rights.”

Meanwhile Senator Chuck Grassley takes the nonsensical position that funding the IRS won’t help it do its job (“simply throwing money at a problem doesn’t necessarily yield a solution”).

https://thehill.com/policy/finance/553704-lawmakers-bicker-over-how-to-go-after-tax-cheats

Then there’s Rep Kevin Brady, warning that a fully funded IRS would “unleash tens of thousands of new IRS agents on families, farms and businesses.”

But the Democrats own the paygo rule, not the Republicans, and their leadership have added their own special touch to make funding the IRS impossible.

https://prospect.org/politics/infrastructure-at-a-crossroads-biden-public-investment/

According to the rules Congress gives to the Congressional Budget Office (which calculates the cost of government programs), the CBO isn’t allowed to factor in the projected additional revenue from funding the IRS, only the cost of doing so (!).

Which means that they must factor in the salaries that IRS Global High Wealth auditors will draw — but they are forbidden from counting the $4500/hour they generate when they puncture the tissue-thin financial lies of the super-rich.

The payfor and “taxpayer money” are lies.

It’s a shuck sold to the rubes, not economics. Because it’s a shuck, it doesn’t have to make any sense — and it doesn’t. We shouldn’t run government like a business, but if we must, let’s at least count revenues as well as costs.

Image: Mike Licht/notionscapital.com https://www.flickr.com/photos/notionscapital/48857033957/

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[firefly464]

The Gilded Cage - Chapter 3

I felt like you guys could use some nice fluff after yesterday, so we zoomed to get this chapter out. Also, oh my god i have so many ideas im so excited ahahahahah

ALSO!! IMPORTANT NOTICE!!! The first section of Chapter 5 of The Real World has been edited slightly. I recommend you go back and reread it :)

Written in collaboration with @i-have-this-now :D

Thank you @rivys for beta reading, editing, and writing :D

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~~~

“Alright then, Eret. Talk to me.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself. “George, it’s all…” he trailed off, unable to explain exactly what he was thinking. “What… what happened to me?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

George scoffed. “Did you not hear me when I said you got shot? Did you miss that bit?”

Bad hit him lightly on the arm. “George! That’s not how you support a friend through a trying time!”

“What?! I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Eret, here.” Bad moved himself over on the bed to sit right next to Eret. “We found you passed out in the woods with an arrow sticking out of your arm, so we brought you back here and patched you up.”

“You also were nearly frozen to death. Honestly, I think the reason you didn’t bleed out sooner is because the blood froze over or… something.” George shrugged, a little too nonchalant for Eret’s tastes. “I dunno, I’m not a doctor.”

Bad frowned. “That reminds me… Why were you even out there without a coat? It’s the middle of winter!” 

“I- what?” Eret asked, caught off guard by the question. Hadn’t it just been mid summer? He shook his head. He was in some sort of fucked up world, why was he surprised by a change in seasons? 

Even so, it made sense. It explained why he had passed out in the first place. After all, running through the woods in the dead of winter without anything to protect him from the cold was a surefire way to give himself hypothermia. Thinking back on it, it was surprising that he managed to last as long as he did. Any longer, and he very likely would have died. 

George cleared his throat, dragging Eret back to the present. He realized that his friends were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I uh…” He stammered, trying to come up with a decent excuse. “I didn’t exactly have time to grab a jacket. They were kinda chasing me out…” 

George’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Bad’s let out a small gasp of surprise as he realized what Eret meant. He quickly stood, trying to take the heat off his friend. “Well, you don’t need to worry about them now!” he exclaimed, trying to hint to George that now wasn’t the time. “Here, how about we get you situated? Do you want something to drink?”

Eret stared numbly up at him. “Why are you being so… nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Bad stated as though it were fact. “And you deserve it. Come on, I’ll make some cookies, and you can rest while I do that, okay? George, give him your jacket.”

“What?!” He sputtered. “Bad, I’m not giving him my--”

“Give it.” Something in Bad’s eyes must have made George decide to change his mind right then. The man nodded and grabbed a coat from a nearby hanger and chucked it over to Eret. 

Almost instinctively, Eret tried to raise his arm to swat away the incoming coat. Pain tore through him, causing him to let out a small gasp. 

“Hey, careful! You don’t want to tear your stitches,” Bad said quickly, rushing to check that the stitches were undamaged. “You’re still healing.”

Eret only watched as his friend undid the bandages that wrapped around his bicep, trying not to wince. His eyes widened when he saw the torn skin, slightly swollen around the places where string held it together. It wasn’t red or bloody, in fact, it looked like it was at least a few days old. He frowned. 

“How long was I out?” He asked. 

“A day, maybe?” Bad held out his hand towards George, not looking away from the wound. “Could you grab some of the gauze I just prepped? I might as well replace it.” 

Eret frowned as he watched George walk out of the small, curtained room. He could hear the sounds of shuffling in what he assumed to be the kitchen. 

“A day…?” He asked, glancing down at the scar on his arm. The faint, red line looked several days old, with only a minimal amount of swelling around it. There was no way it had only been a day. Injuries just didn’t heal that quickly. “How is it healing so fast?” 

“We tried our best to close the wound as quickly as possible. It would have been better if we had been able to get to you sooner, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” Bad sighed. “It didn’t help that you were half frozen to death, so we needed to take care of that first before we could even begin thinking about your arm -- hey George! Grab some regen pots while you’re out there please!”

“Splash potions or normal?” George called from beyond the curtains.

“Normal. We’ve already taken care of most of the outer damage. Now it’s just a matter of getting back all that blood he lost” 

Eret sat in confusion, his gaze darting back and forth between the shadow creature in front of him, and the curtain. “That uh… That doesn’t explain how this looks a week old.” 

“Well, your buddy Bad knows a thing or two about healing people,” the demon chuckled. “I soaked the bandages in healing potions so that your wound would close up safely.”

Eret stared at the scar on his arm in wonder. “Holy shit, Bad, that’s genius.”

“Language!”

He looked down, having the courtesy to at least look somewhat ashamed “Sorry…” 

“It’s alright, you muffin,” Bad laughed. “Didn’t I tell you guys to use this technique already? You know it’s really not healthy to just drink health potions, right? Have you not been taking care of yourself?”

Eret grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t exactly… common in L’Manberg, per se?”

Bad’s face fell. “Don’t tell me. Did Wilbur forget? I know I told him how to!”

“I honestly have no clue,” Eret shrugged. It wasn’t technically a lie, he really didn’t know, but the reason why was entirely different than the implication.

Bad nodded, pride shining on his face. “Well, Eret, I can guarantee you that as long as you stay here with us, we’ll take good care of you.”

~~~

Eret woke slowly and peacefully, a surprise to everyone in the community house. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of a knocking in the doorway, and was startled to see Bad tapping his knuckle against the wall, a plate in his other hand.

“Heya, sleepy-head!”

“What are you--” Eret sat up and rearranged his pillows to support his aching back. “What are you doing?”

The demon grinned. “I’m bringing you cookies, what does it look like?” He sat the plate he was holding down on Eret’s nightstand with a clink.

Eret stared, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Lots of reasons!” Bad replied, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. “I figured you weren’t feeling too great, so I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up!”

“Oh.”

“Plus, cookies taste better than potions, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and put the regeneration potion into the cookies.”

“Oh.”

“You have to make sure you eat all of them, okay? Doctor’s orders! I made sure to keep it a small batch so you wouldn’t get stuffed.”

“Oh...” Eret could only stare at the six perfectly round cookies sitting on the plate next to him. This was real, physical proof that somebody here cared about him -- really cared.

Why?

Eret couldn’t think of a good reason why anyone here should care about him. He had betrayed L’Manburg, or so everyone in this world thought. He was untrustworthy. He could turn on his friends at any moment. It would have been in Bad’s best interest to leave him freezing out in the snow, to leave him to die, but he hadn’t. Bad had done the opposite. So--

“Why?” he muttered.

The demon furrowed his brow. “Why what? What do you mean?”

“Why do you…” Eret stared down at his hands, unsure of what exactly he felt. “Why do you care? You have no reason to, I-- I’m a traitor. For all you know, I could turn on you, I could stab you in the back, I could...” he trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

A small scoff sounded from the open curtain. “Please, you wouldn’t do that.” 

Eret glanced up. George was once more standing in the makeshift doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. “You’ve already invested way too much into this, you wouldn’t just throw it away. Besides, I like to think of it as a double agent. Sounds much cooler than being a traitor.” 

Bad turned and faced George with a disappointed frown. “George.”

“What?” The man glanced around nervously. “I’m not wrong.”

Bad sighed and faced Eret once more. “Well, I guess…” He trailed off, seemingly deciding what words fit his answer best. “I think that everyone deserves to have someone that cares about them. And I already cared about you before I found you in the snow.”

“Besides, we all knew what would happen once you pressed that button,” George added, a soft smile on his face. “We all accepted it, and we knew what would happen. You weren’t the only one in the final control room. We’re in this together.” 

He could only watch as Bad took a seat on the side of his bed.“You’re our friend, Eret. You still deserve love, and a warm bed, and some nice cookies, no matter what you’ve done. And I want to be able to give that to you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Eret blinked hard, trying to clear away the tears that threatened to spill over. “Do you mean that?”

A warm smile crossed his face. “Of course! Besides, I may have not approved of your plan, but I still vowed to stay neutral. I knew that this was going to happen, and I’m here to help you through it.” 

Eret gave up. The dams he had put up broke, and tears began to stream down his face. He tackled his friend and held him in a tight hug, not daring to let him go. It was slightly strange, considering the fact that his friend was some sort of shadowy-demon monster, but it didn’t matter. The hug was still filled with warmth and love.

It was enough to make a traitor cry.

He could feel a second pair of arms wrap around them as George nestled his head in the space between the other two’s bodies and let out a content sigh. Their tangle of limbs was slightly awkward, but none of them cared. Both George and Bad were too focused on trying to support their friend, and Eret wasn’t focused at all. 

Bad rubbed Eret’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he possibly could. Eret’s throat was too tight for him to say what he meant just then, but he hoped that this embrace said it for him.

Thank you.

~~~

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[siennahrobek]

Future Past

5 BBY

(Luke is approximately 14 years old)

Lothal was a bit of a strange place to stop, on account of being so bustling with the Empire’s presence. However, for some reason, Ben had insisted on a short stop there and lured him in with that mischievous smirk he would get sometimes and a mention of a surprise. And Luke supposed, he could use the distraction. Of anything, really.

It had been hard; so soon after Ben had forced Boil to leave them. Boil had been Luke’s friend, in a way that he had never had before. He and Ben didn’t stay on a planet long enough for Luke to actually make friends, but Boil had stayed with them for months and it was turning into routine. It became normal. Even squishing him into their little ship wasn’t too bad; Luke was just too happy about just having someone else around. Of course, Qui-Gon stopped by once in a while, but he couldn’t hold his form for very long and generally, he only came when he had something to teach. Luke had been so happy for those couple of months, having someone around to talk to and help and teach and be taught by. He loved Ben, of course, he did, with so much, but there was a difference.

And suddenly that was taken away.

And Luke had been very upset.

After Boil had been sent away, Luke didn’t talk to Ben for nearly a week and even after that, it was only necessary exchanges between them. Which led to their trip to Lothal where they barely made it past the strict incoming traffic regulations and landed in the middle of nowhere.

Meditation, Luke presumed with a frown and the roll of his eyes.

Ben took nothing with him, just gestured for Luke to follow him out into the grasslands. And, as of course, he did, and they walked in silence through the tiny civilization which he knew would be leading out into the actual, literal, middle of nowhere. At least, until Ben had spotted something that had interested in him. After telling Luke to stay where he was and the younger man returning that request with a long, irritated whine and near rebuttal, Ben had left him in the market, hidden away in an alley until he got back.

It wasn’t just hard because of Boil leaving, although that was the core of it. It wasn’t just because Luke had lost pretty much the only friend, he had made that he knew Ben would trust. But Luke had been a bit bitter towards his guardian. Things were a bit more strained than usual, and Luke was holding onto his feelings. The ones that were so upset and angry that he felt like sometimes he could just explode.

Because he finally, finally, had a friend that Ben would approve of. Sure, he was older like Ben, but it was a start, it was something. It was even a person that Ben cared about and trusted. But then he just sent him away and Luke was struggling on forgiving Ben for that.

Lost in thought and his bitterness, Luke was a bit too late to notice the being creeping up on him but realized just enough for avoid the stun coming his way. He didn’t get a good look at his opponent who tried to flip him…only for Luke to bring the being with him and flipped him as well.

It hurt. And no doubt it hurt the other guy too.

The ensuing fight was rather brutal, and Luke had a feeling if he hadn’t been shown so many hand-to-hand moves by Boil, he would have lost. Well, if the fight had gone on any longer than the few moments that it had, he probably would have lost. At least, if Luke hadn’t used the Force. But that would blow their cover.

It was sharp and ruthless with fast strikes that were almost always some kind of hit, whether or not it was the area that it was intended. And for absolute certain, Luke knew he would hurt and be so sore tomorrow. Well, if he liveduntil tomorrow. And by the way things were going with this fight, he wasn’t entirely so sure he would.

“Luke!”

“Echo!”

The two of them had stopped so abruptly that they both stumbled, nearing falling over one another as they tripped over themselves to stand up and move away, one from the other. Luke felt like he was coughing up the dust the two fighters had kicked into the air, but it was difficult to get enough air in his lungs. He was tired. Ben and another trooper, longer hair and a bandana were standing in their sight line, looking quite unimpressed and frowning, expectantly.

“Ben!”

“General Kenobi?”

Luke’s head whipped around to the side, where his opponent was, eyes wide and shocked. The man had ripped off his dark helmet to stare and Luke tried to prevent his double take. Because…. well, because he looked like Boil. Well, not exactly. He didn’t really have much in the way of hair and his skin was a bit ashen, but they looked so similar. Meaning this was a clone. Luke glanced back at Ben and the other man. Another clone.

“Echo,” Ben greeted, quiet and soft with a slight bow. His presence softened at the sight of this former soldier that he knew but he was still guarded, shielded. Luke struggled to understand this sometimes, but Ben had believed the clones had betrayed the jedi and killed all of his family and people for well over a decade. That caution wasn’t just going to go away. But he was trying, and he did his best. “It is good to see you alive and well.”

“Is it?” the clone – Echo – sputtered, obviously a bit surprised at the statement. “Because I have a hard time being glad to see…people like us, knowing what happened.” Luke knew what he was alluding to; how could he not. Everyone knew what had happened, even though there were different stories surrounding it, depending on who one heard it from.

“I know about the chips,” Ben swallowed as his eyes softened further in grief, something misty and far away, like he wasn’t quite in the present. It was for everyone involved, rather tragic. The jedi dead and the troopers brainwashed; the galaxy gone and under the tyranny of the new Galactic Empire. “We found out a few months ago. I am so sorry.”

“I feel like I should be saying that to you,” Echo muttered, shaking his head while the other clone just looked between the both of them. He wondered who he was exactly and how he knew them. “I shouldn’t be surprised you are alive. The 212thalways had rumors about you.”

“Rumors?” Ben mused, an eyebrow raising curiously.

“Yeah. Some of them thought you were unkillable.”

Ben scoffed with several different and varying emotions running through it, some Luke couldn’t quite identify with any amount of certainty. “That is rather ridiculous but, I suppose, their faith in me is… it would have been nice, if things hadn’t worked out the way they did,” Ben said. “I hear you are chasing a bounty. On Luke and myself.”

Echo blinked and shot a glance at Luke before turning back to Ben. “Uh… yes sir. Although, in our defense, we didn’t know it was you.”

“No worries,” Ben shrugged and tucked his hands into the large sleeves of the overcoat of his robe. “And I think you can drop the sir. I am no longer your superior officer, much less a general.”

Echo just smirked faintly. “Of course, sir.”

“Hunter and I just wanted to make sure you and Luke didn’t kill each other,” Ben responded, his tone filling with a form of amusement. “Would you mind keeping him company or entertained while we speak?”

The trooper just nodded. As the two of them walked off to have their talk with the assurance that the clone and boy did not, in fact, kill one another or would for that matter, Echo turned back towards Luke and tried to smile, offering his good hand for Luke to shake. He did, of course. It was only polite. “Sorry about, ya know, hitting you in the face, kid.”

“You can call me Luke,” the younger boy replied but he forced himself to look at him. It was a bit difficult with the similar facial structure of his friend. They looked virtually nothing alike aside from that. Boil had more hair and a bit of a scowl, and his presence was oh so vastly different. Neither were bad or better, but it just kind of made Luke miss Boil. “I’m sorry for nearly busting your vambrace,” he added, gesturing towards the slightly sparking tech inside. Echo just winced but then shrugged and pulled up his other arm which…had a machine attached to it.

“I’ve got it,” he added as he started to poke at it. “Those moves looked familiar. Considering General Kenobi knew about the chips, I guess it is safe to say that you two came in contact with some troopers.”

Luke nodded.

“Anyone I might know?”

“I don’t know in particular if you knew them,” Luke replied as the two of them walked through the little marketplace, slow and steady. Echo continued to work a bit on his partially broken vambrace, and Luke kept his gaze on the varying items that were out for sale in the market. “Commander Cody and Sergeant Boil we found on Vader’s ship.”

The clone paused and stared at him, just kicking up as he stopped in his tracks. Luke paused enough to glance at him, a bit startled. “That…is a lot to unpack. I’m going to skip over the whole Lord Vader thing for now. Cody is alive?”

Luke hesitated and looked away. “No. He’s not.”

Echo sagged in disappointment, but they continued to walk. “Oh…so you…you learned some stuff from the other guy, Boil.”

“He was a part of the 212th, Ben’s immediate battalion,” Luke explained. He didn’t know if Echo knew in particular but he just thought it would be best to clarify. “He was with us for several months before Ben sent him away. He taught me some things and told me a ton of stories. About Ben and the 212th, about Cody, about him and his brother Waxer and all the others.”

“You like stories?”

Luke tried not to look sheepish when he nodded in affirmation.

Echo just grinned. “I have plenty of stories. And trust me, they are some of the most insane and fantastical stories you will hear. My brother, Fives, and I were amidst all sorts of action alongside our general. They called him the Hero with No Fear and he was…something else. His name was Anakin Skywalker.”

*

Luke barely got to hear a fraction of what Echo had to offer and it just made him even more upset when Ben told him they had to go their separate ways. He wanted more. He needed more. Echo was fun and his stories great and they were about his father! Oh, he wanted to know more!

But Ben was stern, and Hunter was anxious to get back to the rest of their party. Luke somehow convinced them to give the two jedi a ride to their destination, which Ben very reluctantly finally caved to. Luke had a few more minutes and he would use it to the best of his ability. Their destination, as Ben pointed out, was a fairly natural looking structure for Lothal’s environment and the two clones had left near immediately after dropping them off. Luke’s heart just felt heavy.

Ben explained that it was a Jedi Temple and that they would both have to use the force to make the entrance known. It took them a fair amount of time, possibly due to their conflicting feelings on the past events and Luke’s bitterness. But, eventually, it happened and the Temple unraveled to reveal its door way, coming up from the ground.

Ben didn’t say a word.

They walked in. It was musty and disgusting but there was a brief and faint scent of freshness, possibly from someone opening the Temple recently. At least before the last two hundred years. Luke voiced this out loud.

“I would believe so,” Ben hummed as he looked around, running a hand along one of the pillars with a kind of sad reverence. “This is a Jedi Temple and I do believe we will find some guidance here.”

“Guidance for what?”

“Whoever knows,” Ben replied, letting the torches light up in small flickers of flames that lit their way. There were a few skeletons around the floor near the columns. Neither of them tried to look at them, rather avoided them and kept walking deeper. “The Force may use the Temple for varying lessons for any one of us and it is a good place to be to learn something. I dare say you could use some guidance that is not from me.”

Luke just glanced away and swallowed.

It hadn’t been easy between the two of them, that was for sure.

“Are we…splitting up?”

“Your journey is your own,” Ben replied, calm and kind, although there was something underneath that Luke couldn’t identify. “Just as mine will be mine. Why don’t you start that way? It smells less musty.”

Luke glanced to where he gestured. “Okay,” he replied and looked back to Ben, but he had already disappeared. Even for someone at his age with as much grey hairs as he had, he was surprisingly quick and sneaky. “Okay,” he repeated to himself with a sharp exhale. He turned towards the doorway and took one of the torches before heading in.

He didn’t know how long he walked or how he lost his torch. For a while, he was in the dark. Everything was so silent it was eerie and rather disturbing, making Luke exceptionally uncomfortable.

And then. And then things changed.

And that change was so sudden and so real and the reason he was here seemed to mush in his mind. He didn’t exactly remember where he was or what exactly he was supposed to be doing. But he stopped when he felt it. Luke stepped into a gorgeous garden, grass tickling at his legs, soft and lush with the crashing of waterfalls bubbling over his ears. It was a sound he would never get bored of; ever since the first time he had seen one. There were walkways winding around the land, with patches of flowers and a few trees, full bearing of fruit and leaves, dotting the grounds. It was so beautiful.

He wanted to know off his boots and just…relish in the feeling.

It was warm here. Not the kind of heat that was oppressive and ongoing and just made one want to lie down in their room and not move, ever. But the kind that would come and go just enough for comfort, something of joy and kindness. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, taking in those good feelings and the brisk freshness of the air.

There was a joyful shout, and he opened his eyes. Ther were children running over a hill chasing one another and reaching out with huge grins on their faces and sparkling eyes full of laughter and playfulness. Luke blinked.

And then again.

There were…people here?

He paused and stared in wonderment. Maybe…maybe they were jedi. They were in a Temple. Right? That was where he was. Right, right, he and Ben had went into a Jedi Temple. Made sense, perhaps, that there would be remnants of jedi here…right?

Maybe there were survivors.

Survivors, Luke thought numbly. It sounded too good to be true. He had to find Ben. He had to tell him what he had discovered.

“Luke!” a voice called, cheerfully. He spun around and stared at the being, blankly as a he strode up; a Kel Dor if he wasn’t mistaken, walked to him, hands tucked into his sleeves, similar to the way Ben did when he was wearing a large cloak. “Initiate Luke,” he corrected with a chuckle and although his face was incapable of smiling with the mask that he wore, Luke was pretty sure he was grinning on the inside.

“Initiate?” Luke echoed, questioningly.

“Yes,” the being chuckled again and gestured to him up and down. “The step before becoming a padawan, of course.” Luke looked down at the light-colored tunics he was in. These…were not his clothes.

“I can be a padawan?” he murmured.

“Of course!” the Kel Dor teased but he sounded warm and kind, although a bit surprised on Luke’s questioning about his place here. “You have done very well in your classes. You are well on your way to becoming a great jedi.”

“There are no more jedi…besides Ben,” Luke replied numbly as his mind sparked. Of course, Ben. That was what he was supposed to do. He needed to find Ben, tell him about this, about these…jedi he had discovered. At least, Luke thought they were jedi.

“Nonsense, Initiate,” the Kel Dor said, with a light shake of his head, amusement filling his voice. He waved around the garden, gesturing to other beings that had now entered and were mingling around. There were so many, of different ages and appearances and species. Most were speaking to one another, in groups of two to several. “There are many,” he assured as he made Luke look. “And you must only choose.”

“Choose?” he sounded too much like an echo.

“A master.”

Sure enough, some of those around were speaking with children that were dressed like Luke. Some were hugging, being led away by the respective masters with their hand or appendage in the other’s. They were choosing and being chosen, Luke realized. Initiates being chosen as padawans. Initiates choosing their masters.

“I can choose?”

“Well,” the being pointed out as he put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. He nearly startled; only Ben and Boil had generally touched him. The Kel Dor didn’t seem to notice. “It is a mutual thing. However, I was hoping to ask you.”

“Ask me?”

“To be my padawan,” the master suggested and turned to face him straight on. “You are kind, driven and compassionate. You would do well under my tutelage. What do you say, Initiate? Would you like to be my padawan?”

Luke stared for an embarrassingly long time because that just…it seemed impossible. He had always wanted to be a jedi; especially a padawan, for as long as he knew what a padawan was. Ben never technically denied him outright or said no. Rather, he would just tell him how dangerous that term was, and they had better not speak of it again. Luke didn’t always listen. “I…I’m sorry, sir – master – but I don’t think so. I need to find my guardian.”

“Unfortunate,” the master hummed, shaking his head and he sounded genuinely disappointed. Luke hated doing that to him but something about this just didn’t seem right. Something else at play. “Good luck, I suppose then. I hope you find what you are looking for.”

“I’m looking for Ben,” Luke replied, glancing around. When he turned back, the Kel Dor was gone. It was like he had disappeared right out of the thin air. After what Luke had seen Ben do, he couldn’t be terrible surprised if the jedi had been capable of that, but he thought it was rather unlikely. “This is rather strange.”

“Quite not,” someone else said. Another master was behind him again and Luke turned around towards him. He was older, with long greying hair.

“Master…?” he questioned.

He frowned. “Master Drallig. Better work on that memory, initiate. A master will not want to train a child who cannot even remember their name.”

“Yes master,” he replied.

“You are up next.”

“Up?”

“The Exhibition match,” Master Drallig frowned deeper. “Come on, initiate! Get your head in the game! Prospective masters are watching.”

“Of course. Of course,” Luke nodded and jogged off to where the master gestured. Even though he had no idea where this was, what was happening or what exactly he was supposed to be doing, his body seemed to know, and he just moved with it. He spent hours in the exhibition, sparring and fighting against other students, moving on to next rounds as he won bouts.

It was like he had been training and readying himself for this for his entire life. And it was an amazing feeling.

Luke didn’t know if he won the exhibition match or, rather, if anyone had or could. He just remembered doing several fights and moving on until he found himself back in the depths of the garden again, away from the tournament itself and amidst other masters. He was having an increasingly difficult time reminding himself that this wasn’t real and his goal here.

All he knew was that this was his chance to become a padawan.

He just had to find someone that felt right.

So, Luke went through the garden, every so often someone asking him to be their padawan but none of them felt quite right. Or perhaps they felt too right to be true. It hardly mattered; something niggled in the back of his mind, reminding him he had a goal and a purpose. He just kept forgetting what that was exactly. He was getting desperate. Nothing felt quite right. But he was running out of time and options. It was getting harder to say no. By the time Qui-Gon Jinn came around with his request, there were barely any masters left. He was so kind and gentle and a familiar face. Luke wanted to wrap himself in the cloak like he did with…

Ben!

Luke stuttered and took off, leaving Master Jinn without an answer. Rude, perhaps, but Luke was running out of time. He had to find Ben. Because Ben. The light that appeared before him was blinding and devastating but Luke knew. He knew. It was his father.

“Hey kiddo.”

Luke swallowed. This…this was something he had always wanted. To meet his father. It seemed like an impossible dream. Because it was. Impossible.

His father began to speak and oh! Was Luke so starstruck! It was his father! The famous jedi! The hero with no fear! Ben’s friend, his brother…

Luke stopped.

Ben.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out. “I can’t talk. I have to find Ben.”

His father stared at him with a serious frown, his face perfect and smooth, with the locks of his hair framing his face that made Luke too easily calm. He looked right; perfect. Like Luke had always imagined his father to be. There was something missing about his face, but Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on what. He supposed, at this point, it hardly mattered. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? Your greatest dream? To meet me? To talk to me?”

“I have to find Ben before it’s too late,” Luke tried to reason, and he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from his father to look around for his guardian.

“So, he’s more important than me? I am your father!”

“And I want to be a jedi. Like you. Like Ben.”

“I can teach you, I can teach you much better than that insecure relic of an age long gone,” his father insisted, determined and strong. Luke’s brows just scrunched together with a deepening frown because that didn’t quite sound right. His father loved Ben, they were friends, brothers. He couldn’t imagine him saying something rather rude and disrespectful like this about him. “I am your father.”

“I know,” Luke replied with a hard swallow. So much was running through his head. It was so hard to keep track. “But this…I need to do this. I want to be a jedi and that means sacrifice. Letting go.”

His father reeled back and scowled, his eyes blazing with heat and color and lines scratching into the sides of his face, barely noticeable but it was almost all Luke could see. “You would trade this – everything you ever wanted – me, the jedi, this world, for him?”

“This isn’t real,” Luke responded, sadly as he forced himself to stare at his father, into his eyes. Direct and resolute. “And Ben…even if he wasn’t destined to be my jedi master, I would choose him every time,” he backed away, one foot after another. It had started out slow, but he knew he didn’t have a lot of time. “I will still dream of truly meeting you,” he said and then began to run. It was all he could do to keep himself from staying, from staying and losing everything else but the feeling of dreams. All he could feel was the heat burning into his back as he ran off. And he just kept running. His feet began to ache, and he tripped over them in embarrassing frequency.

“Ben!”

Nothing.

“BEN!”

Still nothing. There was no one in sight of the garden anymore.

“Ben! Please!” he begged, finally tripping to a halt. He nearly fell, exhausted and out of breath as he tried to catch up. He didn’t have much more time; it was running out. “Please. Please. I just…I just want to be a jedi.” His chest started to heave, and tears threatened to overtake his vision. “Please.”

There was a brief silence.

“Well, if a jedi is all you wanted to be, there were plenty of masters willing to teach you. I have no doubt you had plenty of offers.”

Luke scrambled to turn because that voice; oh he knew that voice. “Ben!” he cried, happily, tears coming out in relief as he caught sight of his guardian. He looked a bit younger, less weary. The bags under his eyes were less noticeable and the only real wrinkles around his face were that in the corners of his eyes from smiling.

“Hello, Beacon.”

“I want to be a jedi,” he promised as he got closer to him. “I hope you never question my commitment.”

Ben hummed. “You have made your desire to become a jedi rather clear. You had plenty of chance. Master Koon, Master Jinn, even your father.”

“You saw that?”

He smiled but shrugged. “You said no to all of them. Why?”

“Because of you.”

“I’m holding you back?” he asked, incredulously. He looked torn and almost offended, almost horrified at the prospect. It was laughable to Luke but apparently Ben had taken that very seriously. Luke wondered what that meant; why he would react in such a way.

Luke choked out a laugh and shook his head, rather vehemently. “No Ben. Never. I didn’t want anyone else. And I know it’s important. You are always my choice. You were always my choice.”

Present Past

Luke

Iyah, one of the slaves that Siri and Luke had freed from the little temporary quarters that the troopers had been held in had a hiding place for them until the group figured out what to do next. Siri still had her disguise of a slave trader and with all the traffic and bustle of the up-and-coming auction, it was easy to move and blend in with the crowds when Luke and Siri’s smoke bombs erupted upon Luke’s presence being found missing. Iyah’s former master had died as of recently and she was in the auction house because her master’s family was going to sell her. It would be some time before the rest of the family went through all of his things and house, so they had a fairly secure hiding place until then. Luke didn’t think that they would be at the house that long.

The smoke from their little distraction is noticeable, even to those out in the streets and far from the palace but they were practically harmless. Just enough to mask their presence and allow them to escape. Wrapping the troopers in cloaks, they moved through the curious crowds that watched as the smoke puffed from the palace windows and doors.

The house that Iyah brings them to is out of the way and not something that someone would come to immediately, as it is just a bit off the streets. The other slaves mostly huddled on their own, leaving the jedi and troopers to their own devices but Iyah just eyes Luke up, warily and announces her intention to make food for everyone as she comes back to bring them a first aid kit; probably one that she knew her master had on hand. Most beings had something of the sort.

“You don’t have to do that, ma’am,” Captain Rex tried to assure her quickly, in some attempt to convince her that she had nothing to fear from them; that she had no obligation to feed any of them.

Luke met her eyes for a moment, and she frowned at the trooper, but she doesn’t say anything. She just turned and nearly stormed back to the kitchen.

Fives was itching to speak, to ask for answers. Luke didn’t have to be force sensitive to know how eager and pressed he was for such things. He didn’t want to explain everything at the moment; he hurt, and he was tired, but he knew it was inevitable. Eventually, Fives could not quite continue to keep it all in. It hadn’t been long. Most of them were still trying to just catch their breath.

“I think it is about time you tell us what is going on,” Fives started, his jaw clenching. If nothing else, Luke had to admire his persistence and pursuit for answers and justice.

Luke sighed and tried to sit up further. They were all on the floor, mostly collapsed over themselves in their exhaustion but Waxer helped him and let him lean against his solid shoulder. “I can tell him about some things, if you want,” he suggested, gently.

The boy knew the trooper was being genuine. Boil had told Luke so much about Waxer in the months that he had with him, and he didn’t seem to downplay how kind and good Waxer was. Luke hoped he could keep him alive, if only for Boil’s sake but he couldn’t help but value him above and beyond. He hadn’t been around for long but trusting Waxer felt near like second nature.

“I knew you were keeping secrets,” Fives frowned at the Lieutenant, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Waxer, took it in stride, barely shrugging and projecting a show of simple acceptance. Fives kept going with a stream of questions and a demand for answers. “What do you know? What is going on? Does this have anything to do with what happened with Krell? Or why we were put under him and not ourGeneral. Or how about the fact that General Kenobi came back to the Resolute on a stretcher?”

“One at a time, Fives,” Rex interrupted, flatly with a tired sigh. It perhaps, wasn’t exactly the right thing to say at the moment.

“And you, you have been keeping secrets too,” Fives shot at him, his frowning deepening. He was so frustrated and scared; Luke could feel it. He couldn’t entirely blame the trooper; the situation was intense and strange. Sometimes with one’s most intense emotions, in the moment, they could not be shielded. It was easier for a jedi because they trained for that sort of thing, but most other beings didn’t even know the existence of shields; not really. “You know it as well but decided, hey, let’s not tell your troops. Maybe some of them would still be alive if you had.”

Rex’s jaw clenched and Luke lurched forward, ready to defend. It wasn’t his fault and Luke hardly thought it mattered knowing what he knew would have changed anything. Luke hadn’t known specifically Krell was a traitor or any specifics on the Umbara campaign but that didn’t make the losses they encountered hurt any less.

“Enough,” Master Tachi nearly barked. She was still standing for a moment and towered over the rest of them, coming back from getting some pillows and blankets from the others. They weren’t great, probably not even that comfortable, but it would do. “This is getting none of us anywhere. I am certain they all have good explanations for what information they have and the lack of flow of it.” At the very least, she seemed to believe it.

Luke shook his head, mostly to himself, and tried to organize his thoughts and what exactly he would say. He didn’t want to tell the 501st, only because of how close they were with his father and due to Palpatine being around his father all the time… secrecy was crucial. “Look, okay,” he started, trying to catch up with himself. It was not particularly easy. He didn’t even know if they would believe him. Others had taken it fairly well; the 212th’s faith in Ben and Cody’s reasoning was helpful, as well as Master Vos’s abilities. But most of these guys were from the 501st; Luke didn’t know if they had that type of faith or belief. “This is…the galaxy depends on total, complete and absolute secrecy. Absolute. You cannot tell anyone,” he stressed as best he could.

“Why not?” Jesse asked, genuinely curious.

“We have to be very careful on the flow of this because there are people we cannot trust and I don’t know all of them,” Luke started to explain, his voice nearly rocky as he spoke. He didn’t particularly want to because well, it was complicated and in all honesty, he had no idea what exactly all he would be revealing to these people. “I don’t know all the people I cannot trust in this time,” he tried to clarify with a bit of a wince. “Some of the 212th knows a bit of what I explained, but for the most part, only Master Vos, Commander Cody and maybe Ben…er Master Kenobi knows most of it.”

Rex tensed up a little, his eyes turning a bit sharper as he stared at Luke at the mention of his closest brother. Luke tried to ignore the shielded feelings Rex was hiding. They weren’t exactly the most positive ones and Luke’s heightened ability with the force let him see, even through some of the thickest of shields. It wasn’t something he particularly liked but sometimes it seemed too apparent for him to ignore. And in Rex’s case, he found out that one of his closest brother was keeping secrets from him. “Cody knows all of what you know?”

“I explained some things to him,” Luke confessed, not quite meeting Rex’s eyes. He barely got to know Cody at all in the future; as they were only with one another for an hour or two, but he had heard plenty from both Ben and Boil. “Please don’t get mad at him. It’s my family. I’m sorry. I asked him not to tell you.”

“Why?” Rex replied steadily, keeping his voice completely void of too many feelings that Luke could feel. “You seemed like you trusted me.”

“I do,” Luke insisted quickly and then, embarrassingly enough, his mouth ran off with him. “You aren’t the breach.”

“The breach?” Rex’s brows creased as he stared at the boy. “Who is?”

“If you act strange, Skywalker will know…” Luke drifted off, uneasily as his hands shuffled in his lap his gaze turning down. Speaking of his father was strange, especially when he was very strict on not letting anyone know what Anakin was too him. He still had to wrap his own head around all of this; he didn’t need everyone else’s opinions and thoughts on the matter yet.

“No way. NotGeneral Skywalker,” Fives insisted, nearly moving to stand up to make his point. Both Jesse and Tup pulled him down to keep him sitting but Fives was absolute. “He is loyal to the Republic; whatever happened… it is not his fault.”

Luke ignored him, fiddling with his hands. It wasn’t completely complicated he thought, at least, the line of who should and should not know the future, but it was complicated for Luke. Being in the era with his father, when he is so young and not completely evil and trying to kill him and such, it was strange. It would only be stranger when Ben came to get him, and he had to explain why he wasn’t geekingout over the fact he was getting to meet the man. “Look, a lot happened and a lot more that I don’t know. And then the Chancellor will get wind of things,” he replied, slowly, unsure how this would end up going. It was certainly an intense accusation and not one he was completely sure how others would react to. “He is not someone we can trust.”

There was a brief moment of absolute silence.

And then…

“You can’t be serious?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“This is absolutely ridiculous!”

“He’s the leaderof the Republic.”

“Why don’t you want him to know?”

“How do you know about this?”

“What happened?”

“What did he do?”

“The Chancellor…how bad is it?” Siri asked, her voice rising above the others; something stern but calm and solid. Luke wasn’t entirely sure if it was actually louder or just something he could hear better over the others. She looked over at him, believing and serious. It was hard to wrap his head around. She just…believed him. She didn’t even know who he was. He didn’t know how she had that kind of faith in him or why she did, but he was incredibly grateful.

“The worst you can imagine,” he choked out.

Siri paused and took a seat near him with a few moments of silence to mull this over. Everyone let her have the moment, trying not to stare as she took what time she was given to think about things and come to her own conclusion. “The Sith master,” she guessed, her jaw clenching as she said it and glanced up at him. He nodded. “How do you know this?”

He hesitated and glanced at Waxer, who nodded encouragingly, and then Rex who just stared, ready and knowing. Luke turned back to Siri, eyes glazing over the others while he could vaguely feel Waxer’s presence near him. “Well…” he started, shifting, still uneasy. He sighed and then took another breath, readying himself for actually saying it again and the fallout of what he was about to reveal. “I guess the simplest way to say it is that I am from the future.”

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Fives shook his head as an only partially amused smile stretched on his face, but he turned serious and partially irritated as he continued with a scoff. “That is your big secret? Some sort of sick prank? What was this? Some terrible plan convoluted to try and get Dooku’s attention or something? I have no idea what your plan or goal was but guess what? It didn’t work.”

“He’s not lying,” Waxer insisted, leaning towards Luke and forward towards Fives at the same time, protective and relentless. He calmed himself but continued, just as strong and solid and ready. “Originally,” he glanced over at the boy. “Luke was born a little over a year from now, right when the war ends.”

“We have a year left?” Checkerboard whined.

“Who wins?”

“The Sith win,” Luke pushed out because it was the truth. Everyone else had been losers in this war because even though the jedi and troopers did everything they could to protect people, it was still a trap. Mostly for the jedi of course, but for this, in this, it turned out just as horrible for the troopers as well. “No one really wins but him. Trust me. The galaxy after the war is so much worse.”

“The Jedi….” Waxer sighed and Luke took his hand, squeezing it, gentle and assuring. Luke hadn’t been around at the time; he hadn’t been a jedi. But Waxer, even though he was technically around, he had taken it even worse than some of the others. Even the prospect of this happening, to them, to anyone, was horrifying. But it was something that it appeared he needed to get through. “The Jedi are killed, virtually all of them. And we do it. There are…some kind of chips in our brains that make us practically droids and we kill all of them.”

The silence was palpable.

No one could even completely imagine the implications of what he was saying.

“It’s gotta come out,” Rex said suddenly, shuddering out of his stupor. Fives reached out for him, but Rex jerked out of the way, and he stood up, as if that would make some kind of difference. “I work closely with Commander Tano! She’s fifteen!”

“We have to wait until we get back to the ship,” Waxer answered instead, looking up kindly and understanding. “We can’t do it now.”

“I need it out,” Rex muttered.

“Can’t you just use your jedi magic to get it out?” Checkerboard asked.

“I…” Luke shifted. “No. I can’t. I have the power but not the precision. Me and Ben, we had to do it together when we didn’t have medical equipment. I did it by accident with Boil.”

“How did you do it with him?”

“I uh…kind of slammed him into a wall,” Luke replied with a sheepish look.

“If you and General Kenobi were able to do that, can’t you and General Tachi do the same thing?”

Luke winced. “No. Not that she isn’t capable, but we don’t know each other, not like that. It’s hard to explain.”

“General Kenobi will be here quickly,” Waxer assured. “And when he does, we can get out of here and you can get the chip out.” Afterwards, Luke got himself around to talking a bit more on what was going on, although not giving quite enough as he did in the first time around with those in the 212th that Commander Cody had brought with him. The troopers popped in with questions that Luke tried to answer the best he could, but Master Tachi stayed quiet, waiting and listening quietly.

“He lived through it,” Siri says, near inaudibly, shaking her head. The troopers were talking amongst one another, although he wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about; he just stared at the master. This was kind of amazing, he thought, getting to meet so many people that he had never thought he would be able to. His father, Master Vos, Master freaking Siri Tachi. “The genocide and devastation of the jedi; our people. Of course he did. As if he hadn’t gone through enough.”

Their gazes met and he tried to shoot her a small smile.

The door opened and Iyah brought them a few trays of food. Luke recognized the meal; he had seen it once in a while when Aunt Beru helped out fleeing or freed slaves back on Tatooine when he was a child. He accepted it gratefully with a quiet thank you in another tongue and they ate for a moment in quiet and peace, although the knowledge about the chips were still hanging over their heads. Every time someone tried to say something, they were shut down within moments.

By the time they were done with the meal, Master Tachi politely excused herself and Luke as well, to his surprise and pulled him out of the room. It was a flimsy excuse that Luke thought sounded rather ridiculous, but the troopers seemed to buy. Maybe this was a jedi thing. He hoped he would get to learn. She took the first aid kit with her and sat him down at a table away from the others.

“Come on, take off the armor,” she said.

Luke blinked but did what he was told.

“Dooku gave you some nice robes,” she murmured but barely waited a second for an answer. “Take them off please. I know you have a wound underneath there. You want to tell me how you got it?”

Luke continued to do as he was told and tried to wrangle himself out of the dark robes, after he carefully set aside the armor pieces in a pile nearby. “A lightsaber. He wanted to watch me fight Krell again.”

Her eyebrows creased. “Krell? As in Pong Krell?”

“He’s a traitor,” Luke muttered.

“Why were you with him?”

“We fought on Umbara. I…we almost won,” Luke replied, as she started to clean and disinfect the area around the wound. It hurt to move, most of the time, and he hated looking at it. Vaguely, he wondered if it would scar. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He explained how Krell had set up the troops during the campaign and how Luke had just barely stopped it in time, although not early enough it seemed.

“You were alone?” she noted with a frown.

“Ask. I know you want to,” Luke just smiled, faintly.

“You know who I was,” she continued, barely sparing him a glance.

“Yes. Ben…uhm… Obi-Wan talked about you,” he nearly ducked with the embarrassment. No one knew him as Ben around here, no one but him. He would have to get used to calling him by his given name. Or, if he was really lucky, perhaps Master Kenobi. Or something of the sort. Long had Luke wanted to be a padawan – Ben’s padawan – but things were doing so fast and so far, he tried not to cling to that type of hope.

“You can call him Ben,” Siri shrugged, lightly as she smiled gently at him. “I understand who you refer to.”

The conversation wasn’t exactly light at all times, but it bounced around a lot. Neither of them had a particular direction they were going through, although, of course, it would mostly be about Obi-wan. He was really the only thing they both had in common. What Luke knew about her wasn’t a whole ton as a person, as Ben tended to tell him the best and most amazing things about the people he loved, but Luke was not against getting to know her now, while he still could. He had no idea how long he would be able to stay in the past; if this was his present now or if he would have to return to his own. “He carried around your warming crystal every day,” Luke said instead, trying to catch Siri’s eyes. He did and she looked down at her necklace, a thin rope that wrapped around a near pulsing and slightly luminescent crystal.

She looked back up at him and stopped for a moment to stare.

Luke didn’t know what it meant but he knew what to say. “He loves you.”

Ben was full of love. It was something that Luke had known for a long time. How different it must be, as Ben in this time and place had so many people to love that were still alive. The entirety of the Jedi Order, the troops he had befriended, his other friends across the galaxy, those he had loved in a slightly different way… it was no longer the kind nostalgia and memory type of love that Luke knew.

These people were alive now; at the very least, some of them. This would change so much. And he couldn’t wait to feel that type of love in Ben for this time. He was kind, of course, even when they were on the run. Luke could feel it when they met people, especially those Luke knew. Any troopers they came across, Cody and Boil and Bail Organa. And Master Vos; oh, Luke had remembered how happy Obi-Wan had felt; the love he had projected. Luke rarely questioned Ben’s love: he tried to show it in many ways that may have not always been the most apparent.

“I’ve known that for a very long time,” Siri replied, her voice quiet and kind. She hesitated and smiled to herself, as if remembering something amusing but important. “He loves so many, so much. It often brings him so much pain.”

No matter what Obi-Wan lost, he still kept being himself, in the light, was still giving out his kindness. “He told me about you,” Luke confessed, his chest warming. He never really got to talk about this, as Ben was almost always the only person he could talk to. It just wasn’t the same.

“What did he say?” She couldn’t help her curiosity, looking up at him with an amused but cautious glance, her lips curling up just enough.

He matched her expression. “I can’t imagine you being unable to guess.”

She grinned, her smile widening into something more mischievous. “Indulge me.”

“He knew you well, the longest I suppose. At least, it seemed like it, out of the people he loved in that way,” he explained, his smile softening as he thought back to the things he had learned from Ben over the years and what he could pull out of the older jedi. There was times Ben was easier to get answers from and other times Luke had to beg for something; anything. He didn’t like to guilt trip, but it was easy sometimes, there was very little else to do when they were in hyperspace, stuck in the tiny little space that was their ship for so many years. “You knew him, well, perhaps better than most, I think. He seemed to think so. He’s sad a lot of things. How talented you were with a lightsaber, strong willed and independent; determined and so focused. He said you were beautiful and had short blonde hair and liked jumpsuits. And you know, the obvious, that you were amazing.”

Siri choked down a laugh.

Luke didn’t give her enough time to answer and continued, glancing down at his hands and stripped his gloves from them. “I asked him about those he had fell in love with after I asked about my mother,” he explained quietly. “I don’t think it was easy for him to talk about that, considering his past, but I was young. I didn’t understand and I…I wanted to know.”

“Who is your mother?”

He shifted around, suddenly uneasy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Master Tachi because of course he did. Even if he didn’t trust her just from what Ben had told him and such, she had helped him, had gotten him out of Dooku’s clutches and helped him rescue the troopers. But this was a whole different level and honestly, Luke had never had to deal with this before. His parents, they were alive, and he had to deal with that, eventually. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s someone Obi-Wan knew,” she mused, unfazed by his inability to give a straight answer. “Rather well, if he had such answers for you. If he could describe her and tell you about her in a way that would make you ask.”

“Master Tachi,” Luke warned, swallowing heavily.

“Senator Padme Amidala.”

Oh wow, she was good.

“How did you know?”

“I am rather observant,” she shrugged. “Comes with the job, I suppose. One has to be in my line of work. I’ve met her a couple of times. Obi-Wan has talked about her too, as he often is around her and working with her. At least, more than some others. Between those things and when you saw collars on the clones…” she drifted off, pointedly. He swallowed nervously, glancing down.

“Your initial anger was Skywalker. Something almost personal and hot; I could feel it through the Force; it burned through my shields, even though we do not have a bond. It was easy to know, and I know it well, as I have trained around Skywalker plenty of times before. The cold fury, however, was Obi-Wan. You didn’t scream and hit something; you weren’t exactly calm, but you weren’t crazy either; just furious. It is something I have seen him do to hide his anger when he was older and it is very cold. But how you handled it? With the righteous fury and reckless abandon, with making a snap choice with little plan? To free the slaves, you could and get them out of there? I’ve seen that kind of thing before when I have been in Senate meetings or hearing about them even. I’ve seen it before. That is all Padme Amidala.”

Luke looked up to stare at her in some kind of awe because he had barely told her anything about his parents. He had barely told anyone anything about his parents. Cody knew simply from knowing Obi-Wan and remembering a holo he had shown. Master Vos knew it from Luke’s own memories. But Siri, she simply deduced. Ben wasn’t kidding when he said she was amazing. It made the boy wonder about the others Ben had known as amazing and how great they were in their respective talents. “I…you are as good as Ben says,” he confessed.

“That’s nothing,” she shrugged, and Luke had to believe it. Or, at the very least, Siri herself believed it wasn’t that impressive. Luke couldn’t quite tell if it was confidence or ego or simple honesty; he didn’t know her or anyone else for that matter, like that. “Obi-Wan and I…our padawans were around the same age,” she explained, and brought back up bacta patches to put on his wound to help it heal up quicker and cleaner. “We did missions together. Trained together. I’ve known Skywalker as a teenager. You have his sandy blonde hair and unstoppable drive.”

He really hoped that was a good thing. He had only ever really had Ben’s perspective and thoughts on his father which were a bit skewed. It wasn’t that they were wrong, but Luke knew for certain that he didn’t tell him whole truths, not nearly as much about the faults. It had taken Luke quite some time to understand exactly why. The fact of the matter was Ben had wanted Luke to love his father, to know him as his best self rather than the faults and monster that he eventually became. It had been hard to swallow for some time and Luke still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it; it was something he continuously had to work through and was. “Wow…you really figured that out quick.”

“With your whole-time travel thing,” she leaned back a bit to get a better look at his wound and brought out the bandages to keep the bacta on, as well as clean alongside the wound itself. “And Obi-Wan knowing your parents so well to tell you about them….I was just open to any possibility. That is hardly the craziest option.”

“I’m not my father.”

She glanced at him, certainly a form of understanding in her gaze. He wondered what that meant. How she could understand such a thing, from which he was feeling. It was something he had to tell himself since he had learned what his father had become. Before that, he wanted nothing more to be like his father. Ben had told Luke some of the most fantastical things about Anakin Skywalker and how much Luke would have been loved by him. How much he was loved. Ben didn’t generally make comparisons between them like that; it was rather a seldom occurrence. But after learning Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, the beast that was constantly chasing and trying to kill them; it had taken Luke a length of time to come to terms with several different things that were connected to that. Whether or not Anakin Skywalker was evil or not, Luke wasn’t him. He shouldn’t be him. Luke should be Luke.

He was still trying to figure out who that was.

“Of course not,” Master Tachi assured readily. “You are Luke.”

“No, I mean…” he sighed. She was right, of course, but that wasn’t quite the point he was trying to make. But, as the moment passed, she seemed to understand still.

“I understand,” Siri nodded. “You are not Anakin Skywalker and similarities or comparisons between the two of you doesn’t mean you do or say the same things. Blood is not everything.”

He nodded and glanced away as she got up to start wrapping around his shoulder and torso, weaving between his appendage to get the best available lock for the bandages with the best range of motion. For some reason, the conversation skipped over again. He didn’t really want to talk about his father; he knew that would certainly be coming in the future. “I hope he came back with me.”

“A coma was mentioned,” she hummed but he could feel and hear the under currents of concern shifting through her voice.

“Yeah. He was in some kind of unexplainable coma when I…. left,” he said carefully. If she noticed his hesitation, she did not seem to be inclined to mention it or point it out. “I’m pretty sure he is awake now. I just don’t know if he came back with me.”

“He won’t abandon you.”

Oh, she sounded so sure.

“Perhaps,” he choked out instead.

“I will not either,” she nudged him, his good shoulder, from the back. He caught a glimpse of a ready and determined smile. “Would you like a partner?”

He chuckled, his chest softening as the conversation turned a little gentler. He quite enjoyed and appreciated the change of pace. “I think Waxer might get offended,” he pointed out. It was a joke, because of course it was. He didn’t know how Waxer felt, not exactly. But he did seem rather inclined to stay by Luke’s side and that was also something he could appreciate. He had plenty of experience with other clones, but it had always been so short, save for Boil’s time with them in the future…past? Luke’s past. But Boil hadn’t been allowed to stay. Luke had been rather upset with Ben for quite some time after that.

She laughed, completely unbothered and unoffended by the notion. “We can make a squad. How does that sound?” she asked, tightening the bandages a little. It was uncomfortable but he knew the pressure would be better in the end.

He grinned, trying to turn his head towards her. “Save Galaxy and Destroy Sith Squad.”

If anyone could help him destroy the Sith, he couldn’t be surprised if she ended up being one of them. Of course, there were others he would like on that squad too.

“SGaDSS,” she snickered as she finished up and came back to his front to tie it off. It was some kind of silent and mutual agreement and they high fived. Both of their hands were sweaty, from the heat and warmth of the planet but his heart was soaring that it hardly mattered. She was a jedi and he got to meet her. He got to meet another of Ben’s friends, loved ones. “You talk kind of like him,” she said after they stopped laughing and sat down, settling against the wall. She had brought over some pillows and blankets from closet in the corner so they could lean against them instead of just the hard floor and wall.

“Who? Anakin?”

“No,” she chuckled, waving her hand. “Obi-Wan. He could be so sarcastic, so quippy. He could verbally keep up with anyone. The way he jokes with and about his troopers. The way he follows those he cares about into the fires of Hell,” she glanced away and shook her head, once again almost lost in thoughts and memories. “Just… part of the reason he is a good person to be around, to be friends with.”

He and Ben had talked a lot about love and compassion and kindness. The different types and the roles they could play in life. But love was still love, in any form. No one was higher or more important than another. It was a lesson that Luke had found solace in. “He always told me that loving someone was enough. Time and distance don’t exist when it comes to love.”

“Apparently he is very wise in the future,” Siri hummed and suddenly he was leaning against her. He was tired, because of course he was, but this was easier, just leaning on her and almost ready to fall asleep or something. He had been tired a lot lately. He wondered if it was because of the time travel. At least he hadn’t been in a coma, like Ben.

“He doesn’t…” Luke drifted off, trying to find the words but his mind was starting to get heavy. “Always make sense but he tries.”

“That’s Obi-Wan for ya,” Siri chuckled and scooted a little closer to him, possibly to make things more comfortable for either of them, or both.

“This will be the longest I have been around a jedi that wasn’t Ben,” Luke muttered.

“It hasn’t even been a day.”

Well, considering he had only met one jedi before and that was for a very short time, it wasn’t exactly hard to compete. “I have met one other jedi and it was barely for an hour,” Luke replied with a huff. “I was in a galaxy so dark, so few jedi. But here, in this time, here I have been around Skywalker, Ahsoka, Master Tiin, Master Vos… I…”

“Quinlan was there?” Siri asked, suddenly interrupting and a bit surprised.

“He came to help Ben, I’m pretty sure,” Luke replied, his heart catching pace and moving a little quicker than normal. He liked Master Vos; he was very interesting and was the only other real jedi he had met in his own past. And Ben seemed to really care about and love him too. But if he was a danger to Ben… Why? Is that…bad?”

��No, not at all,” she shook her head, blonde hair swaying a bit. “They just haven’t hung around each other for a while.”

“They’re friends.”

“Yes. Very much so,” she paused and studied him, glancing down at her shoulder where he was resting near her. “You should take a nap.”

“What? Why?” he snorted but even he knew it was obvious. He was tired.

“You heal when you sleep,” she replied bluntly and then paused before continuing, like she needed to have some sort of explanation and clarification. “We have a medic friend.”

“Bant,” he hummed. Another person Ben knew and loved and talked about. He wondered if she was still alive; he didn’t remember when she died. If she was still around; he would like to meet her. They could probably exchange notes on their caring regiments for Ben.

“Yes.”

“She’s right,” a new yet soft and familiar voice creeps into Luke’s ability to hear. Both of them glance up in the door way where Waxer was standing, partially void of armor with his arms crossed against his chest, frowning disappointedly. He shook his head and was very clear about expressing how he felt. “And I’m not happy you didn’t say something about being hurt.” He barely gave them a moment before he walked over and asked for permission to sit next to them. Luke practically took his arm and dragged the trooper down to their level. He was so warm, and kind and his presence just curled around his. Even though there were only half a dozen troopers, it was an overwhelming sense of good feelings and warmth that Luke wasn’t used to.

Luke didn’t talk much, his brain becoming heavy and tired as the moments passed on until he was barely conscious. At some point, another trooper came in, but Luke’s eyes had already been closed as his mind started to move towards sleep mode. There was talking and footsteps. Luke tried to reach out into the force, towards that warm something that had entered, and he heard a door shut. A few chuckles.

By that time, he is sound asleep and knows nothing.

Fives

The second part of the explosion was what woke them as it was very audible and even shook the ground what they were laid upon. It shook them awake for certain, even before one of the former slaves – the woman that made them a meal before – ran in started spouting hurried exclamations in a language that Fives didn’t actually understand.

The younger jedi, Luke, was practically draped across any trooper he could get close to, as well as the other, older jedi, practically clinging to them. He was embarrassed when he awoke, tucked near Lieutenant Waxer but no one said a word. Only silently untangled themselves from the boy and got up as the woman continued to babble.

They were on their feet within moments, although Jesse’s legs were tangled in the scratchy blankets, and he fell over himself. Tup couldn’t help but chuckle as he and Checkerboard, from the 212th, helped untangle him and get him up.

“What’s happened?” Captain Rex asked.

The woman continued to speak but the Captain just glanced around helplessly. He, like the rest of them, didn’t know the language that she was speaking and apparently, she didn’t have a translator either; hand held or implant.

General – Master – Something Tachi stared at the woman intently and nodded. “She said that something has exploded; she is fairly certain that it was the palace.”

“Did you explode the structure?” Checkerboard choked out.

Master Tachi just scoffed. “No. The devices that Luke and I planted were of the smoke variety and they have long gone off. There is not a way that ours could have brought even part of that building down,” she insisted.

“Do you think it was the Republic?” Jesse asked, catching his breath after his battle with the blankets and pillows.

The jedi frowned but thought about this for a moment. “I doubt it. It isn’t generally the jedi way to just explode entire government buildings, even if they are the headquarters to a slaver queen,” she paused and said a few things to the woman. After an exchange, the woman left, although Fives wasn’t entirely sure what was said. “Get ready and get dressed. We have to figure out what is going on and how to get out of here. Or, at the very least, contact someone.”

Everyone nodded, readily. She had nothing to get ready about herself and said a few things to Luke, quiet and under her breath. He started to grab his robes and armor pieces and started to put them together as she strode out of the room.

Lieutenant Waxer glanced at the boy, curious with a silent question. “She’s going to try to see if she can get contact,” Luke replied as he worked with surprising efficiency. He did stumble over some pieces of the armor, not quite used to such things, but the 212th Checkerboard, quickly moved to help him.

After a few minutes, they were all ready to move and they excited the room towards the door in the front of the building. Master – General – ugh something (Fives had no idea what to call her) Tachi was messing with some radio, working intently. He didn’t dare to ask if she was having any progress with it.

Luke stopped at the door, keeping it closed, and reached out, with his eyes shut and taking a deep breath. After a long moment, something sparked, and the boy started to bounce on his feet. “He’s here!” he cheered, chattering excitedly as he continued to repeat the phrase.

“What are you talking about?”

The boy’s eyes were shining so bright, Fives almost felt like he was blinding but he bounced around the room, nearly flying outside of the door before holding himself back and spinning around towards them again. “He is here! I can feel him! Ben! Ben is here!”

“General…Kenobi…” Lieutenant Waxer tried slowly.

Luke nodded, vigorously. “Master Tachi! Siri! Ben…Obi-Wan is here!” he called out. The jedi glanced at him with a blink.

“I’ve got some lines,” General Tachi said, instead although she smiled faintly at him. “There are reports of slavers getting injured and stealing slaves. Someone with a light saber.”

Luke paused and frowned. “But I have his saber.”

“I’m sure he borrowed someone else’s,” General Tachi assured as she stepped closer to him. “You did say Quinlan was with him and well, Quinlan works just fine with a blaster too. So, I’m sure you are right, and it is Kenobi.”

He nodded. “We have to go.”

“Luke…”

“No! We have to get back to him!” Luke insisted as he started to move again. “We have to get to him as soon as possible. There is so much to do, and danger and I have to help him!”

“Iyah said it is chaos out there, we need to be careful,” General Tachi tried to reason carefully.

“I can’t wait,” Luke shook his head and before any of them knew it, he was out the door.

General Tachi cursed in a language Fives didn’t know but both the 212th boys had raced after Luke without a moment’s notice. The general groaned. “I have to get my equipment and pack it up. Can you…”

“We’ve got it sir,” Captain Rex nodded, curtly and glanced at the others left. “Let’s move boys. Cover the padawan commander’s back. Jesse, stay here with the general…”

“Not a general!” the jedi called back.

“Give her any help and protection that she needs,” the captain finished. Fives clasped his hand with his brother before Jesse tailed after General Tachi and the other ran off after the runaway jedi padawan youngling person.

It was chaos in the streets. So many were fighting. There were pieces of debris that had fallen even as far as they had gotten and some, slower, still falling yet. Ash and dust billowed everywhere, obscuring the skies. Luke and the 212thboys were already a bit far ahead, but they were rather easily noticeable to the eye in the off white and battered armor of the troops.

“He’s just as bad as Skywalker,” the captain muttered under his breath and ran full speed through the crowds in attempt to catch up.

Fives just grinned at Tup and pulled on his helmet before following.

Oh but those were the best kind.

*

Fives didn’t know when it happened but eventually droids started showing up. Getting through towards the palace is more difficult than expected and eventually, they even get a chance to catch their breath when they run into alley ways and abandoned houses and structures. Everyone seems to be fighting everyone, from droids fighting slavers to slavers fighting slaves to slaves fighting droids and slavers. It is a whole mess, and it is easy to get off track.

Which they do.

They end up out of the way of the palace which made Luke very frustrated. They could all feel it. Perhaps it was a jedi thing, Fives thought. He trusted Skywalker with a lot; he was a good man. There were times, however, Fives felt as though he could feel his emotions in any given situation. Well, he shouldn’t say that. In any high stakes or near-death situations. Or anything that involved Senator Amidala.

Luke’s frustrations are practically palpable, and it nearly makes Fives feel that way too. He is fairly certain it must be a jedi thing because no way is he normally feeling like this, even with the situation that they are embroiled in. He’s panicked and scared and desperate.

It is a lot more chaotic than even Umbara and often times, the group keeps losing one another for moments or even near hour at a time. There is no battlefield, no ground to take. There are no real sides. It is just unbridled and intense chaos.

Rumors begin to swirl around about lightsabers and the jedi. Some slaves from the palace running with panic, screaming about several men in light sabers fighting one another and the death of the queen. Fives didn’t think Luke could get anymore worried and desperate.

He was very wrong.

Fives wouldn’t blame Luke for what was to come next.

Brothers died in battle no matter where they were. It was a fact of their lives, and he knew that the jedi did their best. They just couldn’t save everyone and even then, sometimes they could – and did – lose their own lives in the process. This was a battlefield of a different breed, Fives thought. He almost thought they would survive this.

He should have known better.

Fives didn’t really know Check but that didn’t mean his death didn’t hurt.

And he knew it had hit Luke pretty hard too.

The moment he saw the trooper go down; they both knew it was over. There was no way the soldier could have survived that shot. But even though Luke had fought in the battle on Umbara with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon, a group of soldiers that included Check, his reaction was not something any soldier should have advised.

He stopped and stared, frozen in place. Shocked and unmoving, as if unable to comprehend anything going on around him in the world. Captain Rex shouted something, possibly for Luke to get a hold of himself, possibly for one of them to get him out of the line of fire. Fives, of course, couldn’t do anything about the former as of yet, but he could do the latter. Running across the field from his cover, Fives literally tackled Luke down to the ground and behind a stack of crates near a door. Without a word or anything, he practically dragged the boy into the house.

They were lucky, no one was home.

Leaning Luke upright against the wall in a sitting position, Fives closed the door to give them a few minutes and gave the rest of them a short brief on the comms. As of currently, Luke was in no shape to keep moving. He asked for the jedi, perhaps she could help him, but General Tachi was a bit off with Lieutenant Waxer and Jesse. It would be quite a few moments before she could get to them. She simply ordered for them to find cover and stay put. They needed the break, possibly a nap, and for Luke to come back to them before anyone could make another run for the palace. It always seemed so far off; it would still take quite some time.

“Luke,” Fives tried with a frown, pressing a hand against the boy’s shoulder on his pauldron. Tears were starting to come from the boy’s blue eyes, steadily and finally, the first emotion finally came up. It wasn’t much but it was something. “Look, I know this is tough. Losing someone you care about, no matter how long you have known them, it’s…it’s heart breaking. And in war, where people die it’s even worse because you don’t…you don’t have a moment to stop and grieve. You don’t have a moment for burial or saying goodbye. It’s something you try to prepare for but… you can’t.”

He was in front of him before sitting down himself next to the jedi-in-training, or whatever he was, and sighed, taking off his helmet and setting it aside.

“I’m not trying to scold you or anything, but this is war, and we are going to lose people,” Fives tried, unsteadily. “And we don’t… it often happens so fast. There is no time for goodbyes and even less time for grief, in the moment. I lost…I lost my brother really fast. He did something…. something that I would have been the one to do and it just…one moment he was right by me and the next he was gone. Explosion and we had to move, there wasn’t a second to spare.”

Luke’s face started to scrunch up and Fives counted that as a win, although his feelings were mostly tied up in the memories. The boy blinked and stared at him, like he wasn’t completely sure. “Echo?”

Fives stared right back at him, his head whipping around, eyes wide. Because…he hadn’t said his name. “How did you…”

An explosion went off and the glass of the window above them shattered, spraying the contents and other debris into the house and over them. Luke threw himself over Fives in an effort to protect him from the flying debris which Fives, absentmindedly thought was a little amusing and ironic.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fives muttered without his permission. The door busted through and both of them startled, soon to be relieved as it was only Tup and Captain Rex that came through.

“You guys good?”

“Yessir,” Fives grumbled as he got out from underneath Luke. The boy responded but Fives’ ears were ringing and he couldn’t quite make out what he had said.

“General Tachi wants us to wait for her, get some rest and so we can regroup,” Tup relayed.

“I heard,” Fives sighed and glanced around. “The place looks pretty abandoned, at least for now.”

“Most people who aren’t fighting are hiding in their homes,” the captain responded, also taking a look around. He gestured to Tup, who went to make sure and secure the perimeter. “So, my guess is that they are still out there fighting or dead. General Tachi shouldn’t be too long, but she also said we don’t have to wait up for her. Take a nap she said.”

Fives scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I guess I’ll find some blankets and pillows and a good large room to hole up in.”

It wasn’t that hard. The place wasn’t very big and eventually he found a living room space where the hard furniture could be moved to the walls, reinforce them and barricade any windows and doors. Unless someone came in with a full tactical team, it should hold out for at least a few hours. By the time General Tachi got to the house, flanked by Lieutenant Waxer and Jesse, Luke was half asleep but tried his best went they came in.

The Lieutenant was holding Check’s helmet and Luke burst into tears again.

They left the two of them alone for a moment. Well, it was a bit longer than a moment. Fives explained a bit on what happened with Check and Luke’s reaction. Luke may have been used to running and fighting and even conflict, but he wasn’t not used to the realities of war. Not like this.

They came back in after quite some time. Luke was already lightly snoring and fast asleep against Waxer’s shoulder, who was half asleep himself. And so, they made a perimeter around one another for moments of rest over the next several hours.

It is barely an hour in and already Luke is tangled up and cuddling with several troopers, as if reaching out and trying to be in contact with as many of them as he could.

“If no one else is gonna say it,” Jesse started, keeping his voice rather quiet as to not awake the young’un. “I ain’t gonna lie, is it strange that he is all…touchy and cuddly? I didn’t think jedi were…really like that.”

Everyone looked over at General Tachi, who frowned and took a breath, her lips twitching. “He is…touch started but not quite either. It is difficult to explain because jedi are very different. But one of the reasons the jedi start so young, adopted young and raised together is so they can form bonds with others like them. It is often necessary for healthy development.”

“But Luke…he wasn’t raised like that,” Waxer realized, glancing down at the child before looking back up at General Tachi. He looked quite worried and concerned. After only a few days of knowing this child, he was already so attached. Fives wondered if that was normal for him. “So he doesn’t have those bonds.”

“Luke’s presence is latching onto other jedi and connected beings,” General Tachi continued. “He has several fledgling bonds which help his… starvation but considering Obi-Wan and him were constantly on the run, Luke probably didn’t get much time with them and so they either faded or remained very thin; barely there. He’s already formed some type of connections with you.”

“All of us?”

“Luke’s presence in the force is starving for connections,” she added, and Fives could tell there was a hint of concern in her voice, although she mostly kept emotions out of it. “It won’t interfere with you or anything and if left unattended, it shouldn’t grow.”

“It helps him?” Waxer asked.

General Tachi nodded, a bit gravely. This was a rather serious topic, Fives realized. “It is partially why he is even more cuddly than normal, even for a jedi.”

Waxer held Luke close, as if that would help. The boy just huffed into his shoulder. “And…if the bond…if it does grow stronger? Is that okay?” he added, looking back up at General Tachi, eyebrows scrunched together as his concern became more and more evident on his physical features.

General Tachi just nodded.

“Even from a clone?”

“Especially from a clone.”

“What does that mean?”

“Obi-Wan could explain it better,” she confessed with a small sigh. Luke’s arm sleepily touched hers and she moved a little closer to him. “I don’t have a clone attachment or much experience with you.”

“Can you try?”

“I’m not sure if anyone, you or anyone really understands how well the clones and the jedi connect with one another, fit together, how easy it is to share bonds with,” she started, making sure to look between all of them. “Your warmth and light in the Force…as Obi-Wan tells it, although different individuals, is clicks very well with our own. This is rather quite unusual for non-force sensitives. Obi-Wan told me once it’s like we were made for you, that we were meant to be together in some way.”

“They used to say on Kamino,” Rex said quietly. He hadn’t been speaking a whole lot as of late, listening quiet and with purpose and the mention of Kamino brought both nostalgia and bitterness to all of the troopers. Their brothers were still there but it was not generally a good place to be. “We were made for the jedi.”

General Tachi thought about this and hummed. Perhaps it was agreement or disagreement or neither, Fives wasn’t sure. She was hard to read and hard to understand, much more so than their own general. “Perhaps. But I don’t think it is one sided,” she swiped Luke’s bangs to the side, gently. He exhaled again. “Many of the jedi will continue to choose you. Obi-Wan continues to choose you. It is a new galaxy and things are changing. If you will have us, we will gladly stay with you.”

“I don’t know anyone except the jedi who have cared anything for us,” Lieutenant Waxer confessed. “And I can’t speak for everyone of course, but I think we would rather be with you than any other people in the galaxy, if we had to choose.”

“You should get some sleep,” General Tachi said instead, glancing over towards the window that Fives and Tup had already blocked.

“We should set up watches for the next few hours,” Rex replied, leaving the previous conversation with ease and picking up the new one just as easily.

“Do not worry. I have it covered.”

“You can’t do it by yourself.”

“Oh yes I can. Just….trust me on this one,” she winked.

Luke

When Luke wakes up, he is drowning in a clone cuddle pile and practically has to claw his way out, his face completely red and flush with embarrassment. He is sputtering by the end of it but tries with all of his skill and work not to wake them up while trying to get himself out of the pile.

Master Tachi glanced at him from the side of the pile, out of the sleeping troopers and smirked at him, amused. “Sleep well?” she snickered.

Luke just blushed and glanced away, moving towards her as quietly and gently as he could.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Luke. You are an empath and crave connections naturally,” she pointed out. It wasn’t something that Luke didn’t know, in particular, but it was different here and now. Things were still dark but still so much lighter than the time he was from. There were others to connect to so close and actually around. It was so much. “It just seems so extreme now because you have never had so much before and now, there is much to have.”

“It…it’s been just Ben and me for a long time,” Luke confessed as he sat down next to her, hugging his knees. He glanced over at his armor piled over in the corner and reached for the closest pieces. “Before that it was just Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru but I don’t think they quite…understood.”

“Many do not,” she hummed.

“I love Ben,” he added, quickly. It was the truth; Ben was the only person he had with him, everyone else was gone forever or deceased. “He…he is pretty much all I have. It is hard without him around. I…I just have never been around so much….”

“Light, warmth?” she suggested.

“Hyperspace is cold, and we are not planet side a lot,” he explained. He tried to talk about a bit on their situation, in the future, past, whatever. It was easy to talk to her. Maybe it was because she was a jedi. Perhaps it was because Ben knew her and told him about her. Maybe she just was easy to talk to for him. “Ben is very warm, but this is different.”

“Everyone feels different, especially jedi,” Master Tachi assured. “You have been starved of that. It is why we raise out children in creches, together.”

“Ben told me about creches,” Luke hugged his knees tighter as he clipped the shin guards to his lower legs. He didn’t look at her, rather thinking about so much all at once. “I think I would have liked it.”

She nodded and the outer wall shook a little. They both glanced towards the little window on that side of the room. The conversation was over, Luke thought to himself. It wasn’t long; he wished he could talk more with her, but it was clear. “The fighting is getting close again,” she pointed out with a frown. “We should move.”

Luke nodded. “Any ideas on where to go?”

“I have been working on establishing communications with Obi-Wan’s ship,” Master Tachi explained as she grabbed some of her own gear and began putting it on. Her radio was in the corner, and she glanced at it as some kind of gesture to guide his gaze towards the appliance. “They are being pretty tight lipped, and I don’t have his codes.”

“Probably don’t want Dooku to get any information,” Luke added. Whether or not this was the truth, it made sense anyways. He wondered where the Count was now and if he was making problems for Ben and the troopers. “Do you think they have troops on the ground?”

Master Tachi paused and frowned again. “Not sure. This place isn’t Republic friendly or even wants to be,” she replied as she stood up, finishing putting on her own gear, so different from what Luke and the other troopers were wearing. “The Jedi have taken out the Zygerrian slave empire before but…everything was different then.”

He didn’t know exactly what that meant, in particular but he followed her, putting on his smaller pieces and Master Tachi helping him clip on the gorget. “If they take out the enemy ship, I think they can drive the Separatists away,” Luke said. “I only saw one up there, I don’t think they were planning for an invasion.”

“I think you are right.”

“I have no doubt the palace is in chaos, but I don’t think there is any order for power players. No one seems organized. We might be able to get there. That is probably where Ben would look since he was following Dooku.”

“That level of chaos could mean lack of leadership,” Siri murmured as she messed around a bit with her portable radio. “The queen may be incapacitated or dead, meaning there would be a power vacuum.”

“That would also mean less guards, we could probably slip through. No one is giving orders,” he added.

“Or too many are for any type or organization.”

“Even if Ben is done looking through the palace, he would still be around that area,” Luke said.

“He is not going to just give up,” Master Tachi nodded. “Especially not with Quinlan with him.”

“So, we head towards the palace then.”

“The closer we are, the easier it will be to get communications with the Republic – or better yet – Obi-Wan’s fleet,” Master Tachi added with a grin growing on her face.

“The closer we are, the more likely I will be able to feel Ben better,” Luke added with a matching grin as he brightened up, significantly. He just needed to find Ben. Things would be okay if he could just get to him. “Don’t try to lie to me and say you don’t have a pretty strong bond with him too.”

“He is one of my closest friends,” she admitted.

“Look at you two,” a new voice piped in with a chuckle. Both Luke and Master Tachi glanced around. The troopers were all at least awake with vaguely amused expressions. A few were even moving towards their armor piles to get ready for moving out at a moment’s notice. “Makin plans without us,” Jesse added.

“Thought you could use the extra beauty sleep,” Luke grinned, cheekily.

“You little brat,” Jesse teased.

They talk a little while everyone gets ready and dressed. Master Tachi gave them a short rundown of what they were going to be doing; moving back towards the Palace. There was some apprehension, going back to that horrid place. Luke completely understood, even just thinking about made him rather upset, skin vibrating for the need for justice. If it was his choice, no one would have to go anywhere near it again. But he had to find Ben. They had to find Ben and they needed to get off of this planet.

The little group had left soon after, quiet and out of the back door, away from the chaos outside. The fighting and struggling had not ceased exactly, as there were still slavers, slaves and droids still fighting amongst one another. Luke kept Check’s helmet clipped to his belt and no one said a word about it.

They couldn’t exactly avoid the fighting and conflict and eventually, they had to move towards the more main roads to make their way towards the palace. They avoided them, of course, whenever they could. By the time they had to get to the main road, which was a straight shot to the palace, they were about knee deep in conflict.

It kind of amazed him how easy they worked together. Master Tachi had never really worked with these troopers before barely – if any – either. Luke himself had only fought alongside Waxer and only for a few moments, the other troopers as well. But the five boys they had with him and Master Tachi, they had quickly adapted to the way they moved and the way they worked. Moving with the troopers was easy, even though there weren’t many of them. They didn’t a fairly good job keeping up with him and Master Tachi and although neither of them were actually used to working with troopers, they seemed to blend well together when it came to helping each other out and having each other’s back.

Master Tachi had a blaster on her, and he knew she wouldn’t bring out her lightsaber unless it was absolutely necessary. Ben had been the same way during their travels. It often times brought unwanted attention.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t have another weapon and he had a much larger and passionate need to fight and protect. He made arcs with Ben’s light saber like he was born for it. Perhaps, in some ways, he was.

The loss of Check was a heavy weight, but they kept moving.

The young boy from the future wouldn’t let anyone die on his account, not with this. There were six others with him – he could keep them alive. He had to keep them alive. He did not leave them and kept them within his sights the best he possibly could. It was hard to keep them together as they seemed to have the same idea about one another. Luke caught a blaster shot with the force that came too close to Jesse’s face for comfort. Tup shot a slaver that was coming up on Luke’s six.

Getting so close to the palace, they stayed tight knit until the courtyard was in place. They paused in an out-of-the-way alley to come up with a plan, right outside of the palace perimeter. “It is absolute and complete chaos out there but I can feel Ben,” Luke said hurriedly, his voice rising in excitement and plenty of eagerness. “I can sneak in and since I can sense him, I’ll be able to find him quicker. I’ll bring him back.”

“I don’t think that’s a good…”

“Look, I got this, okay?” Luke insisted and didn’t wait for an answer. He ran out of the hiding place and leapt on top of the building nearby, racing across the rooftops up and away from the fighting crowds down below. Eventually he had to get back to the ground as he got inside the palace courtyard where the battle started to thin out a little.

He reached out in the Force and tried to concentrate. He could feel Ben. He knew he could feel him.

And then…

“Luke!”

The yell was raw, screeching into the stormy chaos of the battle, as if his voice alone was desperate enough to demand the person of his desire to be returned.

“Luke!” it tried again, near at the top of his lungs.

“Ben?”

Luke couldn’t help but perk at the sound of his name. Oh, how he hoped that it was real, that it was his voice and not his wishful thinking or the screams of another being. The being that he so desperately wanted it to be.

“Luke?” the voice called out tentatively.

It was real! It was Ben’s voice!

The youngster jumped back into the fray of disorder and conflict without a second thought. “Ben!” Luke shouted back as he fought harder against the chaos, clawing his way through anyone and everyone. His saber was off now, clipped to his belt. Because now, he didn’t need it. He fought through the crowd with his hands and the undeniable power of the force, forcing his way through them with enough strength to make others even jump out of the way.

Then he saw him. Because even though it had been fifteen years and Ben’s appearance was so different; not that weathered and oh so greying older man that Luke knew; he could recognize him. It didn’t matter that his hair was a brownish ginger instead of the grey and white. It didn’t matter that his skin was younger and smoother instead of washed out and wrinkled. It didn’t matter that he was in armor pieces and under robes rather than the larger cloaks and well-used clothes. It didn’t even matter that his eyes were bluer now, had more color instead of the tired and older gaze Luke knew.

None of that mattered. Luke would know him anywhere, no matter how much of his physical appearance may have changed. He would never forget. He never could.

Tears were pricking at his eyes then, but they weren’t quite clouding his vision. He choked out the name before charging towards his guardian. Ben may not have known what Luke was going to do but he quickly figured it out. Luke ran and leapt at him with no small amount of abandon, with all the excitement and relief coursing through him and all of the desperation and fear washing away, out from his bones.

He was pretty sure that he was crying, and it did not matter. In that moment, nothing mattered but him. Because Luke was no longer alone. Whether or not everything was real, whatever Ben knew or did not know, it hardly mattered. Luke was no longer alone and all he wanted was to be wrapped up in Ben’s robe in the way he did when he was younger. He wanted to tell Ben of all the things that he had been through and all the things they could do now. Now that they had this chance. This chance to change everything and save so many.

“I know you can catch me, old man! You don’t have any grey hairs!”

And he does; Ben catches him and wraps his arms around Luke so tight, he doesn’t think the older man will ever let go. He doesn’t really want him to. Because in this moment, he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Ben is here. It doesn’t matter if he remembered Luke or not. It doesn’t matter what Ben knew or what he didn’t. He held Luke like he always held Luke, with strength and love and compassion. Like Luke had nothing in the world to worry about ever.

“You remember me.”

He didn’t know if he was right or not. Rather, it was a guess, but Ben just chuckled and curled his arms around Luke, secure and tight. “I could never forget,” he whispered, and Luke held on even snugger, wrapping his limbs around his guardian and locking his face in the crook of his neck, brown ginger hair tickling his face. “Foolish child, running off into war,” Ben mumbled with a fond huff.

“I had to try and save Waxer,” Luke said, exhaling the best he could. He felt out of breath and like he may never get it back. “I’m not sorry.” He wasn’t, he couldn’t quite be. He just wanted to help them in any way he could. He couldn’t save Checkerboard and that was going to haunt him, but he tried to make sure he remembered about all the other ones that he had helped. He had kept Waxer alive. He helped stop Krell’s massacre. He had tried and tried and tried.

“I’m not upset,” Ben assured quietly. Distantly, Luke could hear a small explosion go off. He was glad that he had found his guardian in a spot where there wasn’t blatant battle going on. “You just scared me near to death. I’m an old man, Beacon, my heart can’t take such things.”

“You’re over 15 years in the past you dummy,” Luke choked on near tears, but his chest was bubbling with laughter, something of relief and amusement. “You aren’t even old,” he paused and snuggled just a bit closer, so thankful and unable to let him go at the moment. He would, soon, of course. There was a lot of work to do but he would keep the minute. “I’m so glad you are okay.”

“I will never abandon you.”

Something in his chest loosened which helped him loosen his grip, even if only a little bit. That reminded him, Luke thought as he gave out an actual audible chuckle. “I have the very best present for you,” he murmured with a smile, amusement swelling.

“Oh? How fortuitous,” Ben rumbled, just as entertained as him. Luke didn’t know if anyone was watching or around, but it didn’t matter. Not to him. All there needed to be was Ben and him. Even if only for a minute. “As it so happens, I have a gift for you as well.”

“You got me a present?!” Luke cheered, surprised and excited as he perked up and leaned back to look at him. Luke could see the smirk that was forming underneath Ben’s mustache and beard, a twinkle so apparent in his eye. “What is it?” he asked.

“You will have to wait until we get back to the ship,” Ben chuckled as he let Luke down back to the ground.

“I bet my gift is better!” Luke boasted, his smile sly and knowing as he leaned back on his heels with the slyest grin he could muster. He didn’t think there was anything that could be better than bringing Ben back a loved one and he knew it.

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in that way Luke had seen so many times before. “I don’t know…” he drifted off with the shake of his head. He sounded very sure of himself. “My gift is pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.”

Luke’s eyes sparkled and he took Ben’s hand, firm and secure. He was just getting more and more excited. He couldn’t wait to see Ben’s face when he showed him the person that Luke had come across because oh! He had brought back someone Ben cared about; someone he hadn’t seen in over a decade and half. “Come on! I left her with the troopers.”

“Her?” Ben echoed, questioningly, but Luke wrapped his hand tighter and practically dragged him across the courtyard, through some of the sides of the conflict before he brought him back to the little structure that his team was hiding in. He got down the alley and called out to the troopers. Waxer was the first to turn, the others following close behind as they realized who was coming up to them and putting their weapons down.

Waxer tore of his helmet and all Luke could see and feel was near absolute relief. “General!”

“Master!” Luke called out as Ben finally stopped, unable to move forward.

Because he saw.

Ben was staring, Luke noticed. His glanced between the two of them, uncertain about what would happen next, but he couldn’t help but feel excitement nearly overcome him. The female master grinned at the sight of them and walked, firm and with purpose, her face scraped up and dirty from fighting and finding rest in the little, out of the way places they could. As she came up to him, Ben reached up, hesitant and rubbed some of the light layer of dirt from her cheek.

“May I?” he murmured under his breath.

Luke’s own caught.

“Of course.” Even though she was expecting it, Luke could tell she was surprised by Ben’s hug and how tightly he wound around her. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Kenobi?” she hummed as she relaxed a little into the embrace.

“You have no idea.”

“I do. At least a little. Luke told me.”

“Tachi!” a new voice cheered, and Luke glanced around. It was Master Vos, and he was jogging towards them with a couple others, a mix of troopers and jedi. Well, one jedi. He hadn’t even realized that there had been troopers and the jedi master around when he found Ben, much less of them following the two of them. “I knew it had to be you,” he snickered, turning to lean against the wall, as if he needed a brace to prevent himself from falling over with his laughter.

“Vos,” Master Tachi replied in a mock flat tone but even Luke could feel and see that she wasn’t nearly as unimpressed as she made herself out to sound. “At the very least, you kept Obi-Wan alive.”

“Hey! You weren’t there when I was trying to convince him this was time travel and not a Sith trick or torture,” Master Vos shot back, grinning wide. Neither of them was actually upset or mad or anything negative really at one another, but it was rather amusing to watch them all interact. It was funny; Luke had a bit of a hard time seeing them as such close friends with Ben.

“Well, you seemed to do that at the least,” Master Tachi huffed with a smile as the two of them leaned back and she crossed her arms over her chest for some kind of effect.

“Is everyone here?”

“We lost Checkerboard in the fight,” Waxer stepped up for a short report as Luke glanced away, his chest heating up in grief and shame. Ben put a hand on his shoulder, warm and soothing. “The other troops that were taken are accounted for.”

“Commander Cody went back up to the ship to help Sergeant Barlex fight off the Separatist ship and it appears they are doing well,” Master Vos explained, pointing upwards into the sky where they could just make out two ships, mildly obscured by the clouds and atmosphere. There may have been others, but they couldn’t be seen from the ground. Luke didn’t know.

“The Zygerrians are winning the fight with the droids too,” Rex mumbled as he looked between the jedi masters. “But they are an absolute mess. There is no organization; just fighting for fighting’s sake.”

“We have a lot of work to do,” Luke added in, firm and determined. He wasn’t wrong. Beyond this, with their chance, there was so much to do if they were going to save the troopers, the jedi and the galaxy. “We should convene with the Jedi Council, create a plan and get to work on saving the galaxy from the Empire and the Sith.”

Ben chuckled, lightly as he shot Luke a glance, a single eyebrow raised a bit curiously but Luke could feel his shields tightening a little more. “Oh, should we?”

“We do need the help,” Luke pointed out, red with embarrassment as he looked away as he realized what he said and how he said it. “R-Right.”

The jedi master just kept snickering. “Yes,” he glanced back at the others and got a look at the other jedi behind him. Luke hadn’t even noticed him come up and his breath caught in his chest. Ben perked and looked back at Luke, looking so genuinely kind and nice. Luke’s heart fell a bit. “Luke, I’ve heard you met your…”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Luke interrupted, rather loudly, in a rare show of disrespect. He tried not to let much of anything slip past as he tightened his shields as best, he could, staring at his father with his jaw set. He had to figure out how to play this. Honestly, he had to figure out how to deal with this, especially now, in the time and situation that they both were in. Ben didn’t know that Luke knew. Knew who Anakin Skywalker, his father, became. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

Ben turned confused and it was so wounded and genuine that it near physically hurt Luke to see him respond like that. “Luke…you…know who he is,” Ben said, his response slow and measured, deliberate. Cautious.

Luke hated it. “I do,” he nodded, staring just barely at Anakin.

“I am rather, confused, Luke, why…”

“Could we talk about this, later? Perhaps in private?” Luke fidgeted, glancing down at his gloved hands, his voice quieting into something that others, unless standing right by them, wouldn’t be able to hear. Luke never thought he would have this change, to have to be in this type of scenario. Luke never thought that he would meet his father as Anakin Skywalker, not after knowing what Vader had done and how many times, he had chased them, nearly killing the both of them. He had to figure out how to deal with and what to do with the change and knowledge that he had.

Ben’s brows were drawn but he nodded, solemn. “Of course. Later,” he responded, still careful and curious and worried. “But we will talk about it. This is most unlike you.”

Luke sighed, inwardly in relief. This was not the time or the place or in the right company. He couldn’t talk about this with his father actually in the vicinity. He didn’t know how he would react and there was so much more to do. “I know,” he flipped the hilt of Ben’s saber towards its owner. “This is yours. I’m sorry I borrowed it without asking.”

“Keep it for now,” Ben replied, pushing the hilt back towards him. “I’m glad you did. My crystal is willing to work with you, as always. Hopefully, in this time, you will be able to create your own.”

Luke perked subtly.

They all caught it.

“I think it is about time that we got off of this…. planet,” Ben said, carefully, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

“Agreed,” came a chorus of voices in near unison.

“Commander Cody can get a ship down here within a few minutes,” Master Vos announced, already messing with his commlink. “But we have to get to a nearby landing platform.”

“Shouldn’t be toohard,” Luke replied. “We’ve got four jedi, a handful of highly competent troopers and a guy who is not half bad with a lightsaber.”

“That…is how you are describing yourself?” Ben said, an eyebrow raising curiously. Luke shrugged as the troopers made a quick perimeter around them, ready to move out whenever given the order. “You know, with where and when we are, the Jedi Order is still around,” he pointed out.

“I want to help you keep it that way.”

“I know,” Ben nodded, solemnly. “I am fairly certain I can convince the Council to let you in the Order, if, of course, we happen to stay here. You’d have some catching up to do but you have been trained quite a bit and I think you have enough training to be picked up as a padawan.”

Luke felt his entire body freeze. “Picked up?” he choked out.

Ben kept his gaze completely void of any telltale emotions or thoughts; his shields as tight as they could be. “Of course. You are very talented, Luke. Kind, compassionate, determined and so eager to learn. If this is still what you want.”

He just stared back at him because…because he inferred that he wouldn’t be Ben’s padawan. That just…he wanted to be Ben’s padawan. Luke remembered the vision and trial he went through in the Lothal Temple. This was…it was always supposed to be them.

He would just have to prove himself. “I still want it,” he stated, firmly.

Ben nodded.

“We should get going,” Master Tachi popped in, speaking slowly, glancing between them with a varying range of emotions screaming across her face. They agreed and without another turn of phrase, they ran off.

Getting to the landing pad was easy. There was Luke, four incredibly talented jedi and a handful of insanely amazing troopers that could practically carve a path without hardly breaking a sweat. And it was right in time. The gunship landed just at the moment they came into view. They jumped in and off they went up towards the flagship which was beating down at the lone Separatist ship it was battling.

Commander Cody was waiting for them, along with a few others, most of which Luke recognized. There was Kix and Helix and…

“Boil!” Luke grinned with all the happiness and eagerness and relief he could project into the name. The trooper always looked surprised when Luke said his name like that and sure, this Boil didn’t have the same experiences with and without Luke that the older one did but he was still Boil. It didn’t matter.

He smiled though, warmer than most would expect with his shoulders sagging just a bit. “Hey kid. Sportin’ the armor pretty good.”

“I’m sorry I took it, but I had to sneak onto a gunship,” Luke shrugged before practically bowling the trooper over, Waxer hot on his heels. He was laughing and clasped Boil’s shoulder in greeting as the latter tried to get a handle on the squid-like hug that Luke gave. “I had to keep Waxer alive.”

When he got back to the ground and stood back, Boil’s brows were furrowed, and he frowned in realization. He glanced at Waxer, and they exchanged looks. Luke wasn’t entirely sure what they meant.

“All of you are going to need a check up and scan,” Helix butted in, Kix right at his side. They looked almost like twins. Well, really only for the fact that they had the same displeased expression on their faces. Luke tried to hush down his laugh.

“I will hand them all over to your capable care,” Ben assured as he walked closer to the group. Master Vos was whispering to Master Tachi which ended in them both snickering, almost uncontrollably. “But I do have a gift for Luke, if you don’t mind waiting a moment to take him.”

Helix shrugged. “Fine.”

Ben glanced around at the other troopers. “Did Gearshift come with you?” he asked as he got closer to Luke and wrapped a thin cloth around his eyes, making sure he could see a thing. Luke just scoffed good naturedly.

“Gearshift!” someone called out.

There were footsteps from a human and…something else. A clacking noise. A lot of them actually. It stopped and there were a few other quiet noises. “Can I loooooook??” Luke’s voice came out in a near whine. A few chuckles erupted from those around him.

Ben was standing next to him as someone untied and took off the blindfold. And in front of Luke, in Ben’s hands, was the cutest little BD explorer type droid Luke thinks he had ever seen. Washed in grey and gold, it’s little head looked up at him and squeaked in a binary Luke wasn’t entirely sure he understood but the meaning was clear. Plenty of curiosity.

His heart practically stopped. Could it be? No way.

No way.

“Is this…” he drifted off, unable to form words. He glanced at Ben, eyes wide and near pleading. “Are you serious?”

“I happened to have found her on the ship that we hijacked on our way here,” Ben explained with one of the fondest smiles Luke had ever seen up on him. “I helped fix her up, Anakin helped fix her up and she needs a bit more tweaking and probably a program update, but I thought you might like her. We talked a bit and she claimed she will give you a chance. She’s had a bit of a difficult time and would like a memory wipe, but I think you two will get along.”

“You got me a droid?!”

“I’m not sure if I would say got. I didn’t exactly pay for her or anything. Rather…liberated, in a way,” Ben pointed out.

Luke reached out his hands to let the little droid hop into his palms. He nearly felt like crying. “She’s so cute,” he whispered as she beeped at him, quick and excited. “I…can’t understand what she is saying though. Not fully.”

“It’s coded binary. Don’t worry, that can be changed in the programming.”

“Can we keep both?”

“Yes? But why?”

“I’d like to learn it. I think it would be fun. What’s her name?”

“Her designation is BD-42, but she claims to be amendable for changes.”

Luke hummed and stared at his new little droid friend. This was just… a dream. There was no other explanation. “Hmmm. We will have to brainstorm, won’t we, girl? I’m sure we can come up with something fantastic that is very you.” He looked up at Ben and he knew his eyes were sparkling because, well, they had to be. “Thank you, Ben.”

“I did promise you a droid at some point.”

“I think…. I think we might be a good team,” Luke agreed. “And we have a lot to do with an uncertain amount of time to do it.”

[babygirl-diaz]

Caught Up and Confused- Part 2

(You can find part 1 over here)

TW: Implied Child Death

***

Sam drops on the edge of the hotel room bed and pinches the bridge of his nose. I hate you so much and I love watching you suffer. Bucky's words ring in his ears repeatedly. Sam takes out his phone from his pocket and browses through the few photos of Bucky and himself he still has on there. He stops on the one where they were at a bar. Sam had his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and the two of them were talking about something while broadly smiling at each other, lost in their own world.. That was one of the last times they were genuinely happy.

***

One Year Ago

“Daddy! Noooooo!!!” Riley squeals as she runs through the park, her mop of curls bouncing, as Bucky chased after her.

“I’m gonna get you!” Bucky could easily catch her, but he was deliberately running at a slower speed to let the 3-year-old win.

Sam watches them in awe and takes out his phone to capture the moment. The collective laughs of his husband and his daughter make his heart melt.

“Awwww what a cute family!” Sam hears someone say, which makes his smile grow even wider.

“Wait… isn’t that--”

And just like that, he was recognized. It isn’t long before a group of 20-something year-olds come over to him and ask for autographs and selfies with him which Sam graciously provides.

“You done, Superstar?” Bucky asks, walking over to him with Riley in his arms. The toddler has her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “This little Superstar is falling asleep.”

“You guys make the cutest family, Sam,” says one of the Captain America fans with a smile that makes Sam feel a little uneasy. There was something eerie about that man. Sam’s sure he’s seen him quite a few times before.

“Sorry,” Sam whispers when the fans are out of earshot. He knows Bucky doesn’t like being hounded by fans when they are out having family time, but Sam was bad at saying no.

“It’s okay,” Bucky shrugs as he walks around with Riley, gently thumping her back as he tries to put her to sleep. .

“Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.” Sam packs up their stuff and gets up kissing both his daughter and his husband on the head.

***

Sam was supposed to be recuperating at home after breaking his arm during the last mission, but his PR agent called and claimed that Sam just had to do a few last-minute interviews with the other Avengers and Sam couldn’t say no. Again. The interview ended up being longer than Sam would have liked and by the time he got out and turned his phone on; he noticed there were 20 missed calls.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat, wondering why his husband would call him so much. There are also calls from an unknown number, but Sam ignores it and calls Bucky. “Buck, what’s wrong? What’s with all the missed calls?”

“Please tell me Riley is with you,” Bucky replies.

“Of course, she’s not with me. I was in interviews the whole day. Is she not with you?” Sam’s hands and feet suddenly become icy cold and his heart pumps hard in his chest.

“I left you a message earlier, asking you to pick her up because I had to reschedule my therapy session today. I thought you were at home!”

Right at the moment, Sam gets another incoming call, but he ignores it.

“Did you check the daycare?” Sam asks

“Of course, I did!” Bucky yells. “They said you sent your PR agent to get her. Isn’t he on the approved list of people to pick her up?”

“Yeah… but Kevin has been here at the interviews the whole day. He didn’t go anywhere.”

There is a beep on the other end, indicating another incoming call. It’s the same number from earlier. Sam doesn’t know why, but he feels like he should answer it. “Bucky, I have another incoming call.”

Ignoring what Bucky has to say, Sam answers the call and the first thing he hears is “Papa!”

“Riley.” Sam gasps

“Hello, Sam,” says an unfamiliar voice on the other end.

Sam’s heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. “Who is this?”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I have your daughter.”

Sam’s hand shakes and as does his voice as he asks, “Wh-- what do you want?”

“To meet you. I’ll send you the address and instructions. Follow them exactly and you will have your daughter back.”

***

Present Day

Sam goes back to Bucky’s apartment and tries the buzzer, but no one answers this time. Either Bucky knows it’s him and he’s ignoring him or he is out, Sam figures. Deciding he has no other options, Sam makes the call he hoped he wouldn’t have to. “Joaquin, hey,”

“Sam? Where have you been all day? I was worried sick!” Joaquin answers.

“Joaquin, I— I need a favor,” Sam replies nervously.

“Yeah, of course, anything for you.”

Sam hates taking advantage of him like this, but he was the only one who could help him. “Can you trace Bucky’s phone for me?”

There is silence on the other end, and Sam wonders if Joaquin has hung up.

“Joaquin?” He calls out

“I’m here…” Joaquin replies slowly. “Why do you wanna trace Bucky’s phone, Sam?”

“He won’t talk to me. I need to know where he is’”

There’s another pause before Joaquin says, “Sam, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Joaquin… please,” Sam begs

“Is this about the divorce papers? You do know there are other ways for you to get him to sign them, right?”

“I can’t afford a lawyer,” Sam reminds him. “And neither can Bucky. This is the only way.”

“Sam--”

“Joaquin,” Sam interrupts him. “I just--- I also need to know that he’s okay. We had a fight earlier today.” Telling Joaquin that he worried about Bucky probably wasn’t the best idea, but he just wanted to be honest with the man.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Joaquin asks, sounding worried.

“I don’t,” Sam answers without missing a beat. It was true. Sam didn’t have feelings for his former husband anymore. He just cared about the man somewhere deep down, but that’s as far as it went.

Joaquin sighs and Sam can hear him typing something away on the other end. “He is in Hell’s Kitchen. At some bar called Josie’s. I’ll send you the address.”

“Thanks, Joaquin. I owe you one,” Sam says, gratefully.

“And Sam?” Joaquin calls out in a tender voice.

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Sam assures him and smiles to himself before hanging up.

***

When Sam arrives at the dingy hole-in-a-wall bar, he scrunches up his nose. Why Bucky would feel the need to come all the way out here to get drunk was beyond him. Sam finds the place empty when he enters, and it doesn’t take him long to spot Bucky. He’s hunched over at the bar, nursing a bottle of beer. He isn’t alone, though. Sam spots a familiar face next to him and slowly approaches the two.

“Misty. Bucky.”

Both of them look up at him with equal looks of surprise on their faces.

“Sam!” Misty greets. “Wow, what are you doing here?”

“How did you find me?” Bucky demands, his voice rough and accusing.

“You knew he was in town?” Misty asks. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“Didn’t think it was important,” Bucky grumbles.

“Your ex-husband, my friend, is in town and you didn’t think it was important to tell me.” She smacks Bucky upside the head before jumping out of the stool. She pulls Sam into a tight hug and Sam returns her hug with as much enthusiasm. At least someone is happy to see him. Sam looks at Bucky over her shoulder. But the man doesn’t even acknowledge him. Sam doesn’t know why, but that hurts.

When they pull apart, Misty keeps her hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Lemme take a look at you. You left New York 7 months ago and pretty much disappeared from the face of the Earth.”

“And that really surprises you?” Bucky scoffs, keeping his gaze on Misty.

“Bucky--” Misty says as a warning.

“Ask him if he visited her.”

Sam feels his throat tighten up at that.

Misty gives him a sympathetic look, which makes Sam want to cry even more.

“I didn’t. I can’t,” Sam lets out a choked reply.

“Oh, Sam.” Misty places her bionic arm on his shoulder.

“Well, imagine living here then.” Bucky snaps. He throws cash on the bar and gets out of his seat. When he tries to walk past Sam, Sam grabs him by the arm.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” He apologizes desperately. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”

[satsuki2406]

OPEN SKY  Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"...And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that'll help you fly."

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others' expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all...

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: Failure

Chapter 2: Sometimes the Greatest Hero of All is a Good Friend

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

3-Her Start

The weekend you spent with your best friend was full of good memories and laughter. You recovered your self-trust and conviction to keep going. But as blissful as it was it quickly came to an end. Before you knew it, it was Monday again, which means school, fortunately, this was the last week before graduation, even if you mom forced you to go to that insipid private academy in Tokyo, you'll keep chasing your aspirations no matter what. It was still I little bit cold but the weather was slowly changing as the spring got closer. Over your school uniform, you were wearing the school uniform’s coat that had their logo embroidered and your fluffy (f/c) scarf to keep you warm on your way to the school door.

In the blink of an eye, you and Momo already got to the shoe lockers to change into your respective uwabaki.* While changing your shoes a thought came to your mind, you wanted to touch the matter but didn't know how without making things awkward. "Hey Momo, your test, for the recommended students, you already had it right?"

A little taken aback by your comment Momo hesitated a little before answering unsure. "Y-Yeah, that's correct, I wasn't sure if I could tell you, you know..."

"Please don't feel bad about sharing your successes with me, I would be more than happy to hear how it went for you, you're my friend and I feel happy that you're one step closer to your dream, after all, you also want to be a hero, just like me. You were nice enough to spend the last weekend with me to make me feel better I didn't even ask you once how was it for you, I'm a pampered brat, aren’t I?"

Momo smiled sweetly at you in understanding. "What about if I fill you out on the details of my day at U.A during lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan."

🍱🍱🍱

"Alright ladies this is all for today, there are another 5 minutes before the bell rings. So, you're allowed to socialize in the meantime, please let's keep things calm and low volume please."

"Hey, Momo!~ I've got an idea! They are showing a really good movie right now! Do you want to see it with me?"

"I'll love to, but my mother requested my presence at home as soon as school is finished, my chauffeur is already waiting for me outside, so, unfortunately, I see myself unable to go. But aren't you still grounded?"

"Oh, right, I forgot it..." You puffed off your cheeks in annoyance.

Just in cue, a small vibration came from your skirt pocket adverting you of an incoming message.

'Oh, is Nobu-san, I wonder what happened?'

Good afternoon (Y/N)-sama, I wanted to notify you beforehand that this morning you received two letters; one of them is from the Tokyo's Science Academy, probably respecting your upcoming enrollment.

'Ugh, of course...'

Regarding the second letter, the U.A’s crew is way competent and faster than we thought, I made sure to put the envelope under one of your bed pillows, please make sure to check it out as soon as you arrive home so Xiù-sama won't notice it. I already sent the chauffeur to pick you up as soon as possible.

"."

".."

"..."

"...."

"....."

"WhAaAt?!"

"(L/N)-san! I strongly urge you to refrain from shouting in class!"

"S-sorry, Tanaka-sensei" The slight giggles of your classmates could be heard, but it was short-lived thanks to the shrill sound of the school bell announcing the end of the school day.

"(Y/N) are you ok? You look a bit pale. Something happened at home?" Momo asked, but unfortunately for your friend the last of your worries was explain yourself. Without giving it too much of a thought you took your school bag and burst out the class."SorryMomonotimetoexplainseeyoutomorrowbyeeee!!"

Before she could even understand what you just said, Momo couldn't do anything more than see you disappear among the crowd flooding the halls.

"What in heaven just happened?"

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

After sprinting to the school gate, you could spot in the distance a black limo, Sasaki-san, the same chauffeur that brought your mom to U.A that fateful afternoon one week ago, was waiting outside the car, straight as a lamppost with a serious almost bored look on his face. After you finally approached him, he lightly bowed his head and greeted you. "Good afternoon, (Y/N)-sama, I hope you had a pleasant day" His tome was monotone and robotic, almost like he just repeated a script that had learned out of habit at this point. "Good afternoon Sasaki-san, I did thank you, and yourself?" 

“Lovely indeed” he said almost sarcastically and opened the car's door for you. You quickly made your way in and he closed the door behind you.

Lost in your thoughts time passed faster than you imagined. Before you could notice a glimpse of your house appeared among the trees. The imposing structure made its way through the vast gardens that adorned its surroundings.

You wanted to just get there and finally get the closure you needed about this whole situation, leave your guilt and disappointment behind so you could start over again and move forward to your goal in a more positive note. Up to your room was a blur, you think that maybe a couple of maids greeted you on your way but you were too busy to notice or care, did you even take your shoes off at the genkan*? Who knows, who cares.

You opened your door desperately, closing and locking it to avoid being interrupted. Fixing your eyes on the exact place your fate laid made your heart race like never before, you started walking there slowly, almost cautiously, to sprint with all your might, throwing yourself at the bed and tossing the soft obstacles in your way to find in the middle, a crisp white envelope with a red wax seal, with the iconic logo printed on it. Dread and uncertainty invaded you, were you ready for this? What if they think you were not hero material after all? ‘No! let's just rip the bandit off at once and get over this already’. With a surge of newfound courage, you opened the envelope, tearing the seal apart in the process. Once it was open you could find a letter and a round metal object inside, you took it in your hand to analyze it closer but suddenly a bright light was shooted from its center, startling you and letting it fall obstreperously on the floor.

"Ahhh!"

The light then elongated and shaped itself into some kind of screen, showing what looks to be some kind of small white animal. "Greetings, young lady! My name is Nezu, the one who could be a mouse or a dog or a bear but the only important thing is...I'm the Principal!"

"T-The Principal?!"

"Very well then, I assume that you would prefer me to go right to the point, you must be anxious right now" You gulped nervously and nodded your head as he could see you. "In your written exam you got an outstanding score of 87! Well done!"

'At least I did something right' You thought melancholically.  

"But..."

'Here it comes'

"...Unfortunately, you weren't that successful during your practical exam, in the end, you only earned 31 points, that, as you must know, is not enough to approve this test, since the minimal score is 45"

'I knew it...'

Your vision started to get blurred due to the fat tears that started to accumulate in your eyes. You knew this would happen, but that didn't make it less frustrating.

“However, there’s something that especially caught my attention, and although I’m not a doctor or any medicine specialist by any means I noticed you looked a little off, sick perhaps.Your movements looked sluggish, your breathing seem even more labored than it would have been in the situation you were in not to mention you passed out in the middle of the exam.”

“You’ll see, here at U.A we take special care of the whole process involved in our admission trials, not only to make sure that every single step is performed correctly, the rules are followed and the safety measures compiled but also to prevent the usual improper practices like fraud and cheating, reason why we had installed thousands of cameras with the propose to keep a close eye on all of you.”

'Wow, U.A really goes over the top about everything' You sweatdropped.

"That's the reason why after analyzing your performance carefully, the teaching staff and myself were awed when we notice that indeed you were straining yourself and even managed to save one of the applicants of the attack of a three-pointer, with the last of your strength you pushed him far away from danger knowing the little time you had and your deteriorated condition, you sacrificed yourself for the wellbeing of a stranger, without hesitation"

"Save? But I thought I could do anything at all!-"

"There's a phrase that says that we rise by lifting others, thanks to your selfless help, this young man you saved could complete his test and also had the time and strength enough to get your back after you blacked out. He was also nice enough to handle you to Recovery Girl's capable hands. As you could see, you received some extra points in your final score, these were Rescue Points, a panel of judges conformed by the teachers watch closely these battles and award this kind of heroic gestures, which boosted your original score of 14 points."

"And is because of your heroic spirit that I'm here, in front of you, to make you an offer.” Your breathing hitched, your eyes opened like saucers and you could swear that your heart stopped for a second. 

“We of course never do this kind of exceptions, a once in a lifetime opportunity per se, but I, the Principal, had decided to give you a chance to start again, it may be more competitive than the first test you took but, what is the life of a hero without a good challenge?"

"A-A second chance?!" Your teary eyes widened at this revelation. Was U.A, the U.A High School, not only seeing the potential in you but also wanting to give you another chance?!

'This is so crazy!' You thought tearing up.

"Usually some students, as a precautionary measure apply for both the Hero Course and the General Studies Course, in case they fail to get in the first one, if they meet the necessary requirements could hit a spot in the latter one, with the hopes of competing internally for one of the coveted positions in our prestigious Heroism Department...."

"God! What I didn't think of that?! Like a security net that will catch you in case you fall, clever..." You pondered

"As you well know you did not opt for this, but we had decided unanimously to make a space for you in the General Studies Course as your second chance and a fresh start here, at U.A."

"As I mentioned before, the competition is more ferocious internally because of the really small quantity positions, sometimes there's only one transferred student or not transfers at all, so you must work hard because you need at least 85% of approval from the teachers to get into the Hero course."

"So, I need to make merits to get in, I wonder how though-"

"You must be wondering, how to get that approval and enter the world of your dreamed career?!  Let me enlighten you then! There are several ways to do this but the most common and effective is..."

"...Is?!"

"Is...!"

"The U.A Sports Festival! The annual competition that Japan is so crazy about that forgot about the Olympic Games and where everybody can take a look at the future and witness the rising of their future heroes! And of course the perfect place for you to show what you're made of! The U.A Sports Festival not only is a great chance for the Hero Course pupils to show their abilities, but for the ones who were left behind, that they also have a lot to offer, and a chance that I'm sure you won't waste at all."

"I won't!"

"So please, let us know what you think, We already see inmense potential on you, we think-no, we believe that you will not disappoint. All the important information, forms and consent letters are attached and listed inside the envelope, if you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact us at our website www.uahigh.com.jp/newstudentexperience to chat live with one of our representatives or call us at 1-800-UAHIGHJ (1-800-824-4445) or drop by at our headquarters in U.A. Remember that the due date to send the forms with your parents' authorization and uniform measurements and specifications is March 25th!"

"Oh my God, I got in... I GOT IN!!! Yes, I did it!" You then started to jump on your bed carried by the excitement, then a little detail crossed your mind. "Crap! My mom would never sign the authorization form! She'll rather take off her own eyes than do that! I don't want to involve dad in this, he's been receiving mom's colder shoulder lately and he looks kinda depressed, just remember the fight hey had that night give me the hives. What can I do? How can I-"

"This device will self-destruct in 10 seconds!"

"...What."

"10!"

"9!"

"Oh God, Oh God No! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!!"

"8!"

As best as you could you quickly jumped off your bed and hid inside your walk-in closet closing and locking the door behind you. "Was it that necessary to make it explode?!" You closed your eyes and covered your ears as waiting for some kind of impact.

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Just kidding! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"..."

"WHAAAAT?!"

"Excuse me (Y/N)-sama? Are you ok?" One of the maids asked while knocking your door. You ran out of the closet and threw all evidence of your recent conversation with the fury Principal under your bed.

"Y-Yes! I'm fine! P-Perfectly fine!"

"I heard some screams and voices inside; do you have any guest? Do you want me to bring some refreshments?" Immediately you opened the door and were faced with the maid that you liked the least, she was a middle-aged woman who always drove herself in a hypocritical and double-face kind of way.

You could see from pretty far away that she didn't like you the least, looking her in the eyes was enough to know, the resentment and indifference were palpable. For her, you were nothing more than a spoiled filthy rich brat and that was more than enough to hate you. She also was a notable gossipmonger and was of general knowledge among the service crew that she could not keep a secret for dear life, which your mother took advantage of to monitor you and the house in general when she was absent. All in exchange of a juicy bonus in her weekly check.

"There's nobody with me Uwasaki-san, I was watching some YouTube videos, and an ad came out, a really loud one." You opened your door a little more to show her, she peeked into your room a little to look closer, everything was in order, except for the dropped pillows and a panda plush, it was just like you said, all she could find was a flat screen with a paused video showing in it.

She gave you a skeptical look first before convincing herself you were saying the truth and gave you one of her infamous fake smiles. "I see, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let me know, I'll be close by fixing one of the guest's rooms."

"Oh, who's coming?" You asked, half trying to diffuse the awkwardness, half out of truly curiosity.

"Kaguya-sama, she asked Xiù-sama for advice in one of her university projects, Chemistry I think"

'It makes sense, with the kind of quirk she has, chemistry was always one of her strengths'

"I see."

"Alright, if you excuse me, I'll be taking my leaving."

After this, she turned and walk in the direction of the guest's rooms mumbling complains about how slow this day has been so far, with nothing interesting to report, not juicy scandal to uncover and how she hoped that the rest of the week could deliver something better. As you heard her steps get lost in the immensity of the hallway, checking she was gone for sure, you closed your door leaning your back on it while you slowly slide to the floor.

'That was close!, I've never been happier to forget to turn the tv off before going to school, I must be careful, I have to find a way to convince them to let me go, after the second chance I received, I can't back up, I don't want to. It's decided then! I’ll go to U.A no matter what.'

"Hmm... So, U.A? Maybe get you out of my way would be easier than I thought, dear cousin."

*Uwabaki (上履き): They are a type of Japanese shoes worn indoors at home, school or certain companies and public buildings where street shoes are prohibited.

*Genkan (玄関): are traditional areas for houses, apartments or buildings. It is usually located inside the building directly in front of the door. The primary function of the genkan is to leave your shoes before entering the main part of a house or building.

-The word 'Uwasa' (噂) means gossip combined with the kanji 'Ki' (機) or machine forms the word Rumor or Gossip Machine (噂機) Uwasaki.

-I'm learning Japanese on my own, so I thought it could be interesting and fun to try to construct some (Last)names inspired in the oc’s quirks and personality just like Horikoshi does. As I said I'm a beginner and all the feedback is welcome! If you have suggestions or corrections let me know! I'm open to learning! 😊 

🏷Taglist

@alex-sulli​  Hope you like it ~\(≧▽≦)/~

[bonavia32]

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to keep bad luck away. For John Bonavia

On top of learning the language, John Bonavia visited Mt. Gox, the world leader in Bitcoin exchange at the time. Inspired, he got back to playing with the golden crypto-coins but intended to save as much as he can.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to keep bad luck away.

In 2012, John Bonavia ran out of dollars and decided to get back to work, but his job hunt took longer than expected. As a result, the young software developer sold most of his remaining bitcoins at the available rate — which was a tiny $5 per coin.

In total, John Bonavia blew 55k bitcoins worth a total of $2.2 billion as of January 2021. Though he secured an apartment and kept some crypto-change in his digital pocket, it was nowhere near enough to make him a millionaire over the years.

Bonavia mentioned he is happy with the modest gains he’d made and shared a few lessons he’d learned. Below, I listed Bonavia takeaways and backed them up with insights from other sources.

1. Value is shifting

Yuval Noah Harari defined money as “anything that people are willing to use in order to represent systematically the value of other things.”

When you look at dollars and bitcoins, remember that both currencies are representations of values. John Bonavia misfortune shows that the financial value of the digital world is exceeding that of the material one. Read that again.

2. “Money matters: more is always better than less.”

We can easily agree that Bonavia’s words make sense, but why exactly?

“ [Money] is an all-purpose tool, which means: it’s much more like a resource than a tool per se,” wrote Roy F Baumeister from Psychology Today. “Money thus makes the person less dependent on the goodwill and social approval of others.”

Whether you’d like to f-bomb haters on social media using Ferrari pictures, build a stupid $42 million clock, or spoil your loved ones, money gives you freedom.

More money, more freedom.

3. “You don’t need to be rich to lead a perfectly good life.”

This second phrase from Bonavia seems to contradict the first. Except, it doesn’t.

‘The more money, the better’ works to a certain point. Psychologists tried to calculate that certain point and found that a yearly income of $95,000 in the US provides a good amount of emotional wellbeing and satiation. Obviously, these numbers are scalable and vary from one person to another.

Maybe you want more, maybe less. The point is: pick a number and chase it but don’t forget to actually live while doing so.

Because hey, what if you die today?

4. Still — Save, please

In 2012, the year Bonavia ran out of cash before finding a job, he was sitting on 10,000 bitcoins. That’s $400 million today. Gone.

The idea isn’t to swing pieces of wisdom with the luxury of hindsight. Rather, the idea is to learn from people’s experiences, so you might want to listen to Warren Buffet.

“Do not save what is left after spending, but spend what is left after saving.” Because hey, what if you’ll also live to be 90?

5. Mistakes are also an investment

Bonavia story reminded me of a movie titled 21. Here’s the plot. Brilliant student John met the requirements for Harvard Medical School but couldn’t afford the $300,000 tuition. John had two options. One: get a prestigious scholarship where to get selected, he needed to dazzle the director.

Except, John had nothing to impress with, let alone dazzle; that’s why he went with option two.

The kid joined a group of fellow math geniuses who excel at cheating in Blackjack. Together, they hacked a casino and looted tons of cash before a mistake backfired and took away every cent they’d won.

Though the young gambler ended up broke, his crazy story did dazzle the scholarship’s director.

Just like John’s misfortune got him a free ticket to Harvard, I’m sure Bonavia’s loss will also bring him something — if it didn’t already.

Mistakes are also an investment.

[scintillating-galaxias]

Love Notes: Chapter 2

day 2 of thunderrod week! today’s prompt was ‘build’. i have come to realize i fail at actually using these as prompts. instead, they just become words i include in the fic. oh well. enjoy! -

Rodimus sets out to find a second note.

(read it here on ao3!) -

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

Rodimus stopped in his tracks and frowned at Blaster. “What gave it away?”

“You walked in without moaning and groaning about how much recharge you could be getting right now,” Blaster plainly informed him without once looking away from the communications console.

“I don’t do it that often.”

“You do it every time,” Doubletap deadpanned from the navigation consoles. “Also, you were practically skipping a second ago.”

“You do,” Blaster said. “And you were.”

“Well, it’s true. I could be getting a lot more recharge,” said Rodimus, electing to ignore the skipping comment. Captains didn’t skip. He didn’t skip, at least. He had no idea what Megatron got up to in his free time, but—

Blaster stood up. “Well,” he said, yawning, “I dunno about you, but I’m ready to catch up on said recharge. See you around, Captain.”

Rodimus nodded and sat down in the newly vacated seat. Right. Communications watch. Why did he put himself on communications watch, again? It was dull, mind-numbing work. You sat there in front of the consoles waiting for any incoming signals from any nearby planets or ships, and you occasionally made announcements. That was the most exciting part of the job in Rodimus’ opinion, and therefore his favorite part. But he always got a note from Magnus reprimanding him for improper usage of the ship’s intercom. At least he wasn’t Siren. He swore he could still sometimes hear his audials ringing if it was quiet enough, and it’d been weeks since the last… schedule mixup.

But the Lost Light was thousands of miles from any immediate planetary body. Not a single ship blipped the radar. The consoles were utterly still now. The only signals they would be receiving were radio waves produced by nearby stars. That left Rodimus plenty of space leftover in his processor to be filled with thoughts of the note. He furtively glanced around the room; no one was looking at him. As quietly as he could, he opened his subspace and discretely brought the note out to stare at it. Last night, he’d been curious about the sender. An amount of curious any reasonable mech would have after receiving an unsigned love note on their door. Now, though, he was absolutely dying to know. The need itched along his plating, worming its way to nip at his very protoform. The long game had never been one he’d been any good at.

You put the brightest of stars to shame. That was—That was sweet. That was tender. That something someone infatuated with another would say. Rodimus had no idea what to do about it.

“You look mighty concentrated on that there, Captain.” Crossblades voice cut through the silence as easily as his namesake. “What is it?”

Rodimus shrugged, suddenly cagey. “Just a note,” he said offhandedly. “Someone left it on my door last night, and I’m trying to find who.”

“What’s it say?” Hound piped up.

All optics in the room were on him. Rodimus opened his subspace and put the note back. “Nothing big, just some… request for a private meeting.”

“What kind of meeting?” Crossblades asked with a particular twinkle to his visor that Rodimus did not like at all.

Hound frowned. “Is it not signed? Doesn’t that make it pretty redundant?”

“Yeah, and why would they need a paper note to do that? We all have your frequency.”

“Dunno. I just know they’re trying real hard to remain anonymous.” Rodimus shrugged again. “To each one’s own.”

“And that isn’t the least bit suspicious to you?” asked Sunstreak. Bob chirped in agreement.

“Nah, it’s nothing that serious. Unless there’s another mutiny underway”—more than one mech in the room flinched slightly—” and someone’s trying to trick me into getting killed—points for creativity—I don’t think it’s anything malicious. It’s just a little weird is all.”

The mechs in the room made noises of disengagement, and the air returned once again to a sleepy quiet. Huh. That’d been easy enough. Rodimus brought out the datapad he’d snagged from his desk before leaving for his shift this morning and crossed out a few more names. Surely, if someone here had been the sender, they’d have had more of a reaction.

The note floated away entirely from the forefront of his processor as the day went on. He finished his shift on the bridge, then went and got his morning engex. He poked Drift, who didn’t respond (meditating), and then after that… A usual blend of meeting, meeting, squabble with Megatron, squabble with Magnus, write up the next shift schedule, approve a few requests for materials and new viable experiments, squabble with Megatron again, renew Swerve’s bar license, another fragging meeting (how in the Pit was there so much stuff to meet about?), his evening engex. Then, just like that, the day was done.

Drained how only a day of talking could make one drained, Rodimus dragged himself back to his hab suite. He pressed his thumbs against his jaw joints to chase away the aches that had somehow managed to settle in there. He’s looking forward to merely collapsing into his berth and zonking out for the next twelve hours. But first…

He scanned the doorway for any sign of another note. Nothing. His spoilers sank in disappointment, far further down than he expected. That couldn’t be… it though, could it? No. They’d probably only been brave for that one day. Maybe tomorrow, they’d try again. He entered his hab suite, set the note on the nightstand, and fell into a deep recharge filled with dreams of sparks and smiles.

But the next few days came and went with no sign of the sender or of another note. He and Drift met up a couple of times, only to run into the same dead ends over and over again until Drift, brilliant Drift, suggested, “Maybe we need a change of scenery. Why don’t we go to Swerve’s for the night?”

“Please,” grumbled Rodimus. Sick of looking at the note, he left it behind on his desk as he and Drift meandered towards Swerve’s.

“We can ask around while we’re there,” Drift said. “Perhaps more than one mech is involved.”

“Ooh, maybe. Do you remember how many of us it took to get Toxin and Aquastar to just talk to each other?”

“Not our finest plan ever.”

“Hey, it worked, so it’s a win in my book.”

The sound of chatter and laughter grew louder and louder as they drew closer to Swerve’s. Ten spotted them from his usual spot at the doorway and waved at them.

“Hey, buddy,” Rodimus called as they approached. “Been holding up alright?”

The dents that were Ten’s ‘eyes’ curved into a smile. As Drift handed off his swords to him, he idly said, “Perhaps they’re shy.”

Rodimus snorted. “They’re shy, so they decided to take a shine to me?” he asked incredulously.

“Hm. Fair point. But we can’t always control our feelings.”

“Tell me about it,” Rodimus muttered against his better judgment. Drift’s optics lit up with a dozen questions. But before he could start drilling Rodimus with any of them, an enormous weight shifted the floor just in front of them.

“Captain Rodimus! Drift,” Thunderclash exclaimed with a polite nod in Drift’s direction. “Good evening. I wasn’t expecting to see you—either of you—tonight.”

Rodimus flashed a grin up at him. “When did you ever think you could predict me?” he said, placing one curled servo on his hip.

Thunderclash chuckled, biolights turning from a sparkling red to a pink shade that could have almost been red if one didn’t have an optic for color. “Fair enough,” he said. “Oh, but I really did have a question for you, Captain.”

“Shoot.”

Thunderclash’s chest swelled in a motion that could have been mistaken as him steeling himself if Rodimus didn’t know better. “Could I get you a drink?”

“Uh.” He glanced at Drift, who nodded encouragingly with a mischievously sharp grin. “Yeah, sure.”

Thunderclash beamed. “Wonderful!” he said, clasping his servos together. “It’s my treat, of course.” Drift waved his digits teasingly (what was up with that?) at Rodimus as Thunderclash led them to a table where a half-finished drink had been clearly abandoned. He pulled the seat back and gestured for Rodimus to sit. “You usually get a Solar Sweep, correct?” Thunderclash asked as he waved down a serving droid.

“Yep,” Rodimus said as he sat. “How’d you know?”

“It’s, er, a hard drink to not notice. You—it caught my optic more than once.”

Fair enough—the drink in question was a garish cocktail of neon purple and glowing orange. Swerve was a genius for somehow figuring out to keep the two from mixing into a muddy brown.

“Shame we don’t get to catch up more often,” Thunderclash began easily as he placed his shanix on the serving droid’s tray. “Though I suppose your duties as captain far outweigh your free time.”

“Everytime,” Rodimus sighed, “everytime, I think, ‘I’m done with today’s meetings!’ And then I’m not! And then I’m not!” he repeated, his voice straining in a slightly hysterical whisper. “I genuinely have no idea how there’s so much time in the day that can be spent in damn meetings!”

“Goodness.” Thunderclash rubbed the bridge of his nose between two digits. “Believe me, I can more than sympathize. Forget a life support machine, they should’ve just turned the Vis Vitalis into one enormous board room.” Rodimus snorted into his drink. Thunderclash’s smile grew. “But meetings aside, how have you been?”

“Eh,” Rodimus said with a shrug accompanied by a tilt of his helm, “you know.”

“Neither here nor there?”

“Pretty much. Oh, something weird did happen a couple nights ago…”

Thunderclash went oddly still. “What was it?” he asked carefully. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course. I’m simply curious.”

The serving droid returned with Rodimus’ drink then. He picked it up, tilting the contents to and fro and watching the colors flawlessly shift into one another. “Someone left, like, a love note on my door.” Thunderclash’s optics went wide. “I know!” Rodimus exclaimed, mostly into his drink. He swallowed before continuing. “I have no clue who it sent it, though. I’m trying to figure out through pure sleuthing skills, though. It’s kinda hard. No clue how Nightbeat does it all the time.”

“You’re plenty clever. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Thunderclash said warmly. But the warmth vanished beneath a suddenly cool, serious expression. “Did you find it at all… odd? Discomforting? If so, you ought to tell someone.”

“Not really. I—Primus, this is sappy,” Rodimus huffed, lazily tracing his glass’s rim with a digit, “It’s the definition of corny, but also kinda sweet?” Too focused on keeping his smile from growing too large, he did not notice the strange tension vanish from Thunderclash’s shoulders. “I just wanna know who wrote it and talk to them, ’cause I mean, this stuff is… I’d feel bad if I just ignored it.”

Thunderclash hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps it’s more than a note,” he said mildly.

Rodimus furrowed his brow. “What else could it be? A clue? What is this, a treasure hunt?” His optics blew wide with a hot rush epiphany. “A treasure hunt!” he shouted, causing a few mechs to turn his way. “Wait, wait, hold on, I gotta—” He fired out of his seat, knees clunking the bottom of the table hard enough to nearly upset the drinks. He snatched up his Solar Sweep, downed the rest of it, and set the cube down as quickly as he could without shattering it. “Thanks for the drink!” he called over his shoulder, leaving a faintly bemused Thunderclash to stare at his spoilers as he dashed out of the bar. He transformed in the hallway with an excited roar of his engines, neatly dodging Rewind, who yelped as he went blazing past.

The note had mentioned stars. So maybe Rodimus was meant to find the next note in a place to do with stars. He slowed as he rounded a corner into a less populated hallway. The Lost Light was an interstellar spacecraft. Everything about it was meant for space travel, and by extension, the stars. How was he supposed to find one specific spot on the ship that had to do with stars? Maybe the observation decks? Lots of mechs liked to head up there just to watch the void of space roll by. Personally, Rodimus never really saw the appeal, but to each one’s own.

There were ten main observation decks on the Lost Light. He had half a mind to page Drift and ask him to come and help him look, but a quick look at his messages with him revealed he’d put himself on Do Not Disturb. For Drift, that very literally meant to not disturb him unless it was urgent. Resigning himself to an hour or two of his time possibly being wasted, Rodimus made his way to observation deck one.

There were a few mechs on duty when Rodimus arrived. He could feel the inquiry in their fields as he scrutinized the doorways, searched the tops of the desks, even looked underneath the chairs and benches. Nothing. Onto the next one.

After the six observation deck, Rodimus was beginning to suspect his initial guess had been incorrect. He was tempted to start looking somewhere else, but if he had to come back here and finish looking at all of the observation decks after all, then way more time would be wasted. Then again, he really didn’t want to have to answer ‘what are you looking for’ for the seventh time.

He slowed to a roll, engines rumbling in thought. After a moment, he pulled up the Lost Light’s diagrams and began picking through it level by level. He had no clue if this place even existed, but he had to try, right?

After a few seconds, his efforts were paid off. There, on the fifth level, was a huge circle labeled “PLANETARIUM”.

“Why do we even have a planetarium?” he muttered. This was a spaceship. It flew through space. Why would they need some more fake space inside of the ship when one could just… look outside? “Whatever. Worth a shot.”

The drive up to the planetarium was uneventful. Rodimus flipped to a stop in front of the doors, scanning it up and down for any sign of red. When he didn’t see anything, he stepped forward, the doors smoothly gliding open before him. He stood in the doorway for a moment, squinting into the empty darkness. Perhaps there was something further inside.

The second Rodimus stepped in far enough for the doors to automatically close behind him, the projector switched on with a hum, and the heavens of Cybertron glittered to life over his head.

Rodimus whistled. He walked out further inside the room, one slow step at a time, until he was in the center of the viewing platform. He craned his helm back, drinking it all in. He’d become familiar enough with Earth’s skies after his time there in the desert, working to build his way to freedom alongside the Decepticons. But Cybertron’s skies? His home? He had no clue. It was difficult to imagine. He only remembered neon lights in a city of noise and movement; bristling, dark clouds of engineered acid storms; smog from smoldering ruins of recent immolation. He took a step backward, only to freeze when something made a soft shuffling sound beneath his pede. He looked down.

There, poking out from beneath his pede, was an orange piece of paper.

Grinning, Rodimus knelt to pick it up. He opened it, and in words lit by starlight, he read:

To build the greatest empire is nothing compared to the honor of being by your side.

The hunt was officially on.

[neshabeingchildish]

League of Extraordinary Geniuses || The Prologue

The Girl with the Purple Hair AKA The Smartest Woman in the World 

Author’s Notes

‘They just GAVE her this honorific! The Smartest Woman in the World? How insulting! I didn’t spend the entirety of my life working beyond my hardware and having to remodel and upgrade frequently for some normal human girl to get a few degrees and just RECEIVE status as my female counterpart!’ 

Chase Davenport was in a very bad mood, and currently stuck in his own head. Davenport Industries was donating a dozen high quality, top grade androids to one of its employees, for an assignment in Dystopia, on which she would be attempting to deconstruct and rebuild the city to make it a Davencity - one of the many cities where basically all of the income and resources fit into an ecosystem created and maintained by the success of a Davenport driven economy. 

Chase felt like it was gentrification and colonization, but as long as Mr. Davenport saw to it that the people in the communities selected were allowed to stay and contribute, then at least, they wouldn’t be completely taking away people’s homes and lives. 

So… more of an occupation of sorts, but… Dystopia was one of those places that was such a mess that ANY change had to be for the better, and it was very close to this lady’s heart, apparently. She’d worked there for many years, traveling back and forth on charity missions between semesters in her academic career, ‘until she ingeniously swindled universities into giving her degrees.’ 

Chase pulled up her information in his bionic system, something he had been doing quite religiously ever since finding out that he was expected to be a part of these shenanigans. Mr. Davenport lauded this woman as “the person most fit for this job,” and as a condition of Chase’s current position in the company, he would have to shake the hand of this person in front of the world and approve of that sentiment, ‘thus endorsing the so-called “SmArtEst WOmAn In thE wOrld”’

Feeling that she “swindled” universities was unfair, but he was still pretty raw about all of these plans and mostly about that ‘COMPLETELY UNFATHOMABLE TITLE.’ Secretly, he admired her audacity and her follow through. He would never be able to admit it, as long as she was considered his intellectual equal and a high priority for Mr. Davenport.

She began a little challenge that she called "The Degree Collection Challenge." She would contact the Deans of Ivy League campuses and basically profess that she would be able to complete certain degrees in (some unprecedented amount of time), with their permission. Initially, they would agree, out of the pride and certainty that she couldn't do this. It became her brand - doing all of the work possible to earn an official degree in what should have been not enough time. Organizations began to try to monitor her endeavors and make sure she wasn't somehow cheating, hacking, doing SOMETHING illegal to yield the results that she was yielding, and eventually androids were utilized. Universities paid Davenport Industries A FORTUNE to basically stalk this woman with the intent to prove that she was unfairly gaining elite degrees from their institutions. 

She kept fairly earning her degrees, racking up work, experience, and notoriety as one of the smartest people in the world and her new title as the Degree Collector, ‘a title she can be worthy of.’

It was on her verified social media, and whenever she went to do interviews and speak at colleges, it would always be on the caption or the headlines. He was fine with that. In fact, after a mention from a fan who said that they would LOVE to see her have a conversation with Chase Davenport, the bionic smartest man alive, she confessed that she was a HUGE follower of his work and would also love a conversation with him. He was flattered. She was famous, in her own right, and smart, as well. Also, she looked pretty in all of the photos and footage he saw of her, so finding out that she was a fan was highly favorable.

Her announcement led to Donald arranging the meeting AND giving her a job in one of his places close to her Alma mater, Harvard. She was already earning him money with the android monitoring systems from several colleges, and he wanted someone that popular and smart under his umbrella. Chase would be her “introduction to Davenport Industries” in her biography, even though he didn’t actually have the opportunity to meet her. In fact, his brother, Leo wound up having to pick her up and getting her settled into her new Davenport provided space, because Chase was out on missions. 

She understood. As a self proclaimed huge follower of his work, she knew he went all over the world to tend to various threats, and after a while, the prospect of having a conversation with him became lost and he forgot all about the girl with the purple hair who Donald used as a publicity stunt a few years ago. ‘UNTIL… She became lauded as “the Smartest Woman Alive.” 

For THAT to be true, she would need bionic access to all of the world’s information, to computer connections, satellites, etc. She would have to be extraordinary. She was just some woman with a bunch of degrees that she did get impressively quickly for a typical woman… but still… She was just a typical woman and he got frustrated every time he thought about the fact that her title pretended to rival his! 

“Mr. Davenport?” He heard from behind him and he cleared off his research and cleared out his eye before turning and seeing a slim, petite, far more beautiful in person than in any of the publicity photos where she was typically working. “Hi!” She said, excited and extended her hand, “Charlotte Page. I know that I’m early, but The Dom said that I could let myself in with my access permissions, and I really wanted to be able to speak with you outside of all of his… panoply.” 

Chase shook her hand. It was soft and her handshake was firm. She had on a cream colored pantsuit that fit her form, but was sleeveless and her arms indicated someone who took great care of her body. In fact, her body indicated someone who took great care of her body. And her face, her hair, and so on. 

She didn’t look distressed, disheveled, with a mound of purple hair tied up in a puffy, messy bun. She wasn’t to her knees in an assignment or charity work, or in protective gear in her lab, and she wasn’t online, in a dimly lit room, speaking tired, because of the lack of rest she had. Her hair wasn’t purple either, or curly or puffy... It was... they call those goddess locs, if he remembered correctly from having seen the hairstyle before, and hers were a mixture of browns, with golden accents and charms in them. 

He saw several superhero emblems - Captain Man, Kid Danger, the Dystopian Defenders, ‘So, she’s a superhero fangirl’ some African symbols and cutesy stuff too, a few lightening rods... She was staring at him and he wondered if he was studying her looks too long.

This was the first time he saw her face to face, and it was an amazing sight. “Well… Nice to meet the…” He paused. He realized at that moment that he had never said it out loud and also that he could not.

“The Degree Collector?” She said, saving him the discomfort of calling her the smartest woman alive. She folded her arms casually and said, “Although, my degrees can’t really be at all impressive to you, with the educational catalog that you’ve got. And for what it's worth, I never actually refer to myself as the other thing, either. When there’s someone like you out there and nobody else comparable, that would seem gauche. Not to mention the fact that my life has been teeming with privilege and opportunities. There’s probably a woman out there right now that might have mollywhopped me in the degree collecting challenge if she had more access and wealth, so… I’m good with being Charlotte Page. Charlotte Page is amazing.”

He relaxed a little and felt secretly justified in his silent protest of her being called that. But, now that it was out of the way, he did have other questions and interests about her that he would have already addressed had he not been simmering in anger. He began with, “What is it about Dystopia that makes you so passionate about it?”

A twinkle sparkled in her brown eyes and she was the prettiest and softest thing he could ever remember, in that moment where she thought about Dystopia. She unfolded her arms and began to move her hands around as she talked, “I think it’s because it was my first chosen home. I decided to go there and try to make a small difference. I brought along the two most important people in the world to me and together, we made it our home, for a little while, but made a big difference in a small span of time. Whenever I had to leave, my heart stayed there. My friends didn’t come with me because there was just so much to do and they felt more needed there than I might have needed them with me.” She called over one of the water boys and grabbed a fresh bottle of water from them. “I was working on a Biological and Biomedical Sciences degree and after only one year of doing that, realized that it would take too long for me to do everything that I wanted to do in Dystopia, or even in this world. SO, I took a note out of my friend’s little sister’s book… She managed to graduate high school early because she had to take so many summer classes. I shot for the same basic principle, but on the college level and once it began to be a thing that I just do… I continued and I use everything that I can to try to make Dystopia better, for my friends and for my fondness of it as the first home that I chose for myself.”

“Wow. I’ve actually never chosen a home, so I don’t know this attachment. Mr. Davenport has orchestrated where I go for all of my life,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Well… Because, he’s the one in charge,” he said and shrugged his shoulders, slightly embarrassed. She studied him for a while and he felt mildly uncomfortable under her watch, but simultaneously enjoyed the attention.

“At least he’s a genius. The gods know I’ve worked under the control of complete idiots before..” She thought for a little while longer, then added, “But… not genius enough, I would say.” She finally commented and averted her eyes to glance around the room. “He’s definitely probably smarter than me, but nobody’s smarter than you. You’re Smartie GOALS. It doesn’t rationally make sense to me that you’re in a room with someone, but you’re not the one in charge.” She shrugged and called over a recycling collector to pass off her empty bottle. “You know?” She punctuated the thought, hoping she wasn’t completely out of line for speaking it.

He placed his hands in his pockets and said, “I’m always the smartest man in the room… but not necessarily the wisest person, and definitely not always right. There has to be some humility to make our dynamic work, and if there are these gods you speak of somewhere, they know that HE’S not going to have any. I’ve challenged his authority a couple of times, but it never works in my favor. He really has an infrastructure that calls for his leadership.”

“Maybe you need to separate yourself from that infrastructure to reach your fullest potential,” she said. He looked at her, startled and she laughed and shook her hands and head, “Sorry, sorry! I realized after I said it that I totally sound like an up-and-coming supervillain trying to get the smartest man alive in her corner! I’ll shut up immediately about that. It’s just...my parents weren’t really that involved in a lot of my decisions… They did this thing where they raised me from the first moment I seemed cognizant to learn to do for myself. I don’t always understand those of you who have a more codependent situation with your parents. I think that I expected less commitment, since you refer to him as “Mr. Davenport. I don’t even refer to him as Mr. Davenport!”

He just laughed a little. It wasn’t really her business how he was raised in a capsule in a basement, that his biological father was someone else, etc. She was just making conversation, and you don’t spring heavy things on pretty girls in the middle of conversation. That’s how you never get pretty girls. One of the many ways, at least. His list was still growing at this stage in his life.

After a while, Donald Davenport came through with the camera crew and the dozen androids. He and Chase presented Charlotte with the supplies and she gave a thank you speech to him, and to Chase, although with all of the emphasis that she put on Chase in this thank you, she noticed that The Dom took it as a slight against him. 

That was one of the reasons she called Donald Davenport, “The Dom,” instead of Mr. Davenport or even Donald. That man would honestly be completely comfortable with total submission from others and she often wondered and worried about his wife with these habits, though his brother, Douglas, told her that the wife “wore the pants” at home. A likely story!

She liked Douglas. He was usually her means of contact. While she did bond with Leo upon her first meeting over their shared experience of limited bionics (and hers being even LESS accessible than his, at the time), it was Douglas that she could count on for fun experiment approval and such. She wished that he was here today, but he had some things to do in Centium City, so he had to miss it. He did promise to help her get settled with the equipment in her Dystopia office, whenever he  finished.

After the speech, Chase escorted Charlotte to the shuttle, hating the thought that when this conversation ended, he’d never see her again, and resenting himself for not being able to meet her sooner, or at the very least, to appreciate her for who she was and seemed to be. “Well, thank you for indulging me,” she said. “I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, and now that dream has been achieved!” Her smile was bright and her eyes were hopeful. “Should… we exchange info, or would that be weird for you?” 

“NO!” He said, too excitedly, with a chaotic smile, then followed up with, “I mean, no, it wouldn’t be weird! Yes, to we should!” 

She laughed uncomfortably and handed him something, “Here’s my contact info.” He looked at the  chip inside of the palm of his hand. “New tech that your Uncle Donald and my mentor Schwoz have been working on. It’s an information chip. It basically lets you, as a bionic have access to a normal that you would have to the other bionics.”

“Like… I can track your GPS?”

“On my devices. I don’t have a GPS system in me, but, you definitely have all my numbers, email addresses, etc, and contact with my devices. So… If you don’t get in touch with me this time around, I’ll know that you just didn’t want to.”

“What if I were a stalker?” He asked.

“You aren’t. You’re not the only person who can do extensive research, Mr. Davenport.” She winked at him and he practically melted. ‘Charlotte Page IS amazing.’

.

Three Years Ago...

She heard an electronic alert in her inner ear and uncovered her forearm to check the notification. She tapped the side of her face a few times in order to translate the message, then delete it. “The drop off is here,” she told Henry and Jasper, over the comm. 

“What? We can’t go now!” Henry complained and punched one of the henchmen.

“I know. WE can’t. But, I’ll rendezvous with the supplier and we’ll reassemble at the base,” she said. 

“No! That’s too dangerous.”

“Danger is our brand,” she reminded him.

“Defense. Defense is our brand. That’s why we’re called the Dystopian Defende- Cha… Dystress!” He called out loud. But, she was already barreling her way passed the automatic gunfire being aimed at her and dived behind a collapsed statue.

On the comm, she said, “Deflector… Focus on your mission, and I’ll focus on mind. Catch you when we get back.”

“Dystress, you do not have a forcefield and there is gunfire!”

“T-Force is here with the shipment and if they have to leave it at the drop off, you know that everything will be pillaged. The kids need those supplies.” She adjusted her metal glove gauntlet, pressed some codes on her forearm and groaned as she lifted the biggest piece of the statue and flung it at the shooters. Two were crushed and two ran for cover. Henry and Jasper fought with other henchmen as she made a run for it and slid beneath a pulled up piece of gate to get off of the site.

She notified her contact to beg them not to leave, because she was on her way, then proceeded to run for 15 minutes, dodging curious onlookers and maneuvering through sporadic waves of people. Whenever she reached the drop off, her contact was still there. “Max! Thank God you stayed,” she said and rushed to give him a hug. 

He smiled, “For you? Of course.” They slapped hands and he shook his in pain and hissed. She was quickly apologetic. She still had on her metal glove gauntlet AND her strength was still enhanced. “Were you in a fight?” He wondered. They were usually the contact and coyote for the charity that Charlotte worked with to get quality supplies brought in - everything from seeds, food, school resources, and hygiene products. Sometimes, they couldn’t even PAY for them in the city, because their charity put a dent in the business of too many crime lords depending on child trafficking, child soldiers, and other exploitation of the impoverished kids of Dystopia. But, Max always seemed far more concerned about how Charlotte was doing than the kids he was helping. She had a feeling that he might have had a crush on her.

“Yeah. I had to leave Deflector and Dogwalk in battle to come collect. Supply theft is one of the few crimes that has INCREASED since we got here. We’re causing such a dent in the organized crime, some of the well kept criminals are turning to petty crimes, and some of the bosses are trying to hit our shipments personally. We need an entire goddamn redo with this place. I’m supposed to be leaving after a short while... I didn’t even want to leave them today for this. I hate that they’ll be fighting crime here, probably until they die!” she complained, knowing that she was exaggerating, but also that Max would let her complain to him.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, “Hey. You get this stuff to the kids and don’t worry about your team. Give me their coordinates,” he said. He was already in his super suit and mentally prepared for a fight.

She tapped on the screen on her arm, sent the coordinates, and he opened a portal, “This one will bring you and your supplies to the base,” he said. Then another opened beside it, “I’m gonna go make sure that your dudes don’t die.” She covered her heart with both hands as he stepped into the golden light and it evaporated with him going to Henry and Jasper’s aid. Charlotte collected all of her things and stepped into the light. Workers would meet her on the other end. 

She came through the other end right outside of the camp, tapped her face twice and her outfit morphed back into regular wear. Her purple hair was even tied up. She took the handle of the trolley and moved towards the base. 

And that was exactly what she thought about whenever she walked back onto base with supplies and resources, from Davenport Industries, ready to execute her most ambitious plan ever.

“Is that Charlotte?” Someone asked. She turned to see the director of the charity and was going to go greet her, but “CHAR!!!” from two very eager big boys came roaring towards her as Jasper and Henry ran up to hug her. 

Jasper lifted her into the air and spun her around. Henry yanked her down and bear hugged her painfully. “Ummm… Are you two trying to incapacitate me?” She asked. They put her down and she shook the director’s hand. Everyone was talking to her at once, but whenever several jets landed nearby, she grimaced and promised, “I’m sorry, but I have to touch base with T-Force and with my deconstruction team,” she pointed a thumb at each of the jets. “I’ll definitely regroup and do stuff with you guys later, though.” She turned to go towards the jets, and Henry and Jasper frowned.

Though, Henry squeezed Jasper’s shoulder and said, “You know her work is very important.”

“And we’re not?” Jasper wondered.

“Yeah, but… I’m sure she’s on a tight schedule. And that’s millions of dollars of support that she has to oversee. Come on. Let’s start on dinner!”

Charlotte’s heart rate sped up the closer she got to the T-Force jet. She had gotten word specifically from Max Thunderman, himself that he was going to be heading up this mission (which was basically to guard the Davenport staff as they set up operations for the project, personally vowing to guard Charlotte with his life. She didn’t need it, but the sentiment still made her all giddy inside. He’d never know it, though. 

Whenever he got out of the jet and approached, advanced and new black super suit with an emblem that rotated fire and ice around a lightning bolt; she dipped her head courteously and said in a calm voice, “Nice to see you, Thunderstrike. How’s the suit working out?” He smiled and pulled her into a hug that she returned, but quickly ended, lest she get caught up in her feelings. 

“It’s working out wonderfully. The best fashion designer that I know designed it and the best biological technologist and engineer that I know made it.” 

Her face warmed up and she couldn’t believe how after not even seeing him for years, the thought of being around him already had her semi floating. “So, you ready to help me to create a whole new Dystopia?”

“I’m ready to watch your back while YOU create a whole new Dystopia,” he said, with his hands held out.

“That works!” It was a good day for her. She had been able to see her favorite people in the world, and set out on a journey that would maybe rightfully earn her that title that made Chase Davenport cringe. 

Throughout the deconstruction, The Defenders kept working Dystopia and with T-Force nearby, Charlotte’s work was able to be done without attacks and theft, AND, she set up daily feeding cycles to discourage stealing and establish healthier diets for less privileged Dystopians. One of the first buildings that was worked on was the high tech, maximum security prison. The other one had been overcrowding since she, Jasper and Henry first came to Dystopia, and Henry had told her that a lot of the lower level criminals were simply released because the courts couldn’t ethically put or keep many of them in there under the population conditions. Charlotte named the place for Max. The Thunderman Super Max Penitentiary of Dystopia. He liked having his name on something and all, but he was more concerned about rehabilitation and reformation. So, she got with an architect for designing a rehabilitation center for criminals and villains who could be redeemed. That one, she put his full name on.

She was working on her favorite thesis during that time on the necessity of superhuman and nonsupers relations for the balance of global inequities and her rapport with Max became a better gateway into the supers world than she previously had, while her relationship with Swellview’s finest gave her the down home and small scale hero angle. 

As things became more functional, and more Davencentric, T-Force was reassigned to other missions and the Elite Force would be rushed in for any emergencies in Dystopia. Charlotte was sad to not be able to see Max as much, but it was kind of nice that she got to see Chase sometimes. Unfortunate that it was usually during a crisis, but they actually worked well together in those. The last visit that the Elite Force (his team) came to assist, she was able to show him the Chase Davenport Reference Library of Dystopia. He was honored, though shocked that “Mr. Davenport would approve this.” She laughed about that. She hadn’t gotten approval on anything and as long as the statistics she sent him kept improving, he wasn’t bothering her for it.

In her time there, jobs had been created with the nearly constant building, the pollution problems had been addressed, littering and waste disposal rectified, plant life and trees planted, wastelands beautified, and the corrupt government and laws cleaned up. The head of the charity was now the Mayor and Henry and Jasper inherited the charity and renamed it Budding Flowers. The base was fortified and remodeled, while The Dystopia Defenders’ lair, the Defender Dome, was erected nearby. 

Dystopia became the most flourishing Davencity in the world. The Dom loved being “the most” something “in the world,” so she was pretty much set for life and the Defender Dome was the lair that Henry and Jasper had both always dreamed of. She had revived the ecosystem and the economy - not on her own of course, but as the leader of the project, she would get the credit deserved of her work and announce additional credit while in her spotlight. She loved Dystopia, and now, she could always be proud of it... But... She didn’t necessarily want to just quit while she was ahead and rest of the fruits of this venture. Charlotte Page was amazing. One city was absolutely an accomplishment for her to save. But... how much more of the world could she save if she kept pressing forward?

“Charlotte Page is amazing,” she said, looking out of the Defender Dome at the city below that was unrecognizable from all of the before photos taken via satellite and from the place that she lived a year and visited on “breaks” from school. It was a new place. She was capable of possibly molding an entire new world.

[varibean]

figuring out how to fit

ch 1 of a multi chapter fic! 

It had taken them a few days to get back on their feet, the thrill of the Chickeraffe chase slowly leaving their systems only to be replaced with the dread of figuring out what to do next. There were many things that they wanted to do of course, but as was the way of the world adventure cost bruckles and the only way to get them (legally that is) was with a job. 

Sam, as charming as he was, had never held down an honest job before. His energy and smile were infectious, everyone who came in contact with him could agree that no matter what he decided to do, he would do it with a spirit that couldn’t be beat. However that itself was a problem. Though he was a Who of many skills, none of those skills could technically be considered among the legal variety. He had the charisma, but not the work experience to match. 

Guy on the other hand had the experience and the know how, it was getting through the front door that was the problem. Though inventing was his passion, he was well equipped to do just about anything the market called for; whether it be paint watching, flubberhorn polishing, vipperyvip repair, or filing. But even after his adventure, he lacked a certain level of charm that could dazzle an interviewer and set him apart from the hundreds of other applicants. 

In their short rut period Michellee had, of course, put them up at her house for a while, something both of them were eternally grateful for. Sam would cook breakfast in return and Guy helped E.B with her homework and pandog catching inventions. It was a nice set up for a few days, but there was a limit to how long a couch and a lounge chair were comfortable and even without that fact in mind, both Guy and Sam were a bit restless. 

Michellee constantly insisted that they were both fine to stay for as long as they needed, even going as far as to joke that they could stay forever if that’s what they desired. But they both knew they could never do that to her, couldn’t abuse her kindness in such a way. Sam had never stayed with so many people in one place before and even with the constant job hunt Guy felt like he would become an unspoken burden to the kind hearted Michellee.

Luckily, the question of how long they would need to stay was answered faster than anticipated. The worry and festering feelings of becoming a nuisance were lifted when, two weeks into the search, Guy found a job. 

He discovered that, while all of his own inventions exploded, repairing other’s inventions seemed to be a success. It was a fact that came as both a relief-he would get to work in the field he loved-and a bit of a blow to his pride-the thought that maybe it wasn’t his inventions that were wrong, maybe it was just him. But steady work was steady work and if he was meant to be an Domahicky Repair Man, then so be it. 

One week and his first paycheck later, Guy and Sam found their own apartment a city over. E.B had been upset that her friends were leaving but still smiled a teary goodbye as she hugged Sam goodbye, making him promise to visit on the weekends and to call her with a report of all the new adventures he was sure to have in the city. Michellee insisted that they could stay longer, save up a bit more money, but in the end she too relented on the Weekend Visit condition along with the frequent phone call. 

“Remember, we’re just half an hour away if you need us.” Michellee said as Guy finished loading his and Sam’s matching briefcases into the taxi.

“I think I recall you saying that once or twice in the last ten minutes.”

“I mean it Guy, if you need anything at all just ask. Bruckles, home decor, someone to talk to…”

Michellee’s voice trailed off at the end as she looked up at Guy with a smile. They’d both decided a few days after Mr. Jenkins went home that they were better off as just friends, but Guy had been telling the truth when he said she made him feel safe. Something about her calmed him in a way that few other people could. She’d become his confidant and in return he was her’s. It was a comfortable friendship, an easy going understanding that they shared between each other. 

“And good luck with-” Before Michellee could finish, she was interrupted by Sam sticking his head out the taxi window.

“Come on N.A.B-New Apartment Buddy-we gotta hit the road if we want to beat lower Sneetch Town traffic!”

Guy rolled his eyes and gave Michellee and apologetic smile before hugging her and climbing in the back of the taxi with Sam.

They both waved behind them at Michellee and E.B until the two Whos faded into dots in the distance. 

Sam threw his arm around Guy and pumped a fist excitedly in the air.

“Onto the next adventure!” 

___________

It hadn’t been discussed beforehand that Sam would move in with Guy, it had just been a given like so many other things in their relationship. Guy didn’t even question Sam’s correct assumption that they would be moving in together when the news dropped that he found a job and a nice little place to live in the lower Whoville area. He even brought Sam to the place a few days before moving just to get the other’s approval.

The apartment was small, the front door leading right into the tiny living room, the kitchen attached to that, another door leading to the bedroom, and a small bathroom on the side. It was fine for them, they both agreed. Guy didn’t need much space and Sam spent most of his days outside as it was. 

The first week after moving in there had been a period of adjusting, of making the area their own. Sam stocked the fridge with green eggs and packaged ham, leaving Guy to follow up behind him and put actual food in there as well. 

Sam also seemed to have a knack for decorating as well. His decor wasn’t exactly tidy, but it wasn’t sloppy either. It was an endearing sort of messy; splashes of colors everywhere with trinkets placed on all available surfaces. It only took a few days for the cookie cutter apartment to become an area that felt almost like home. A month ago, Guy would abhor the bright painted colors, the various useless things decorating the wall, the odd additions to the counters and side tables. But now he looked at them with a certain level of fondness that he hadn’t felt in a long time; the crowded living area wasn’t crowded at all, in fact, the more Sam added too it the easier it was to breathe. 

It was as if the life given to the room was radiating out and infecting him with his own splashes of color. When Guy came home, it was with a smile and a fond sigh as he looked around at the area that was slowly shaping to become theirs. 

Sam was also more than happy with their arrangement. Still struggling to find a job and give up his past life, after the decorating was done in the first few days he threw himself into helping around the community. By the end of the first week he had introduced himself to the neighbors, walked around town acquainting himself with the locals, and familiarized himself with the best diners in town. He wasn’t bringing in an income yet but that didn’t matter at all to Guy. Seeing the little Who exhausted and smiling from a day full of social interaction and free of crime was enough to give them both a sense of peace. 

Of course, there were slight drawbacks. The job Guy found was nice, but he didn’t get paid an extraordinary amount. It was enough to keep them both content, but there were certain things they had to cut back on. 

Their dishware was bought second hand, the pieces they were missing replaced with reusable plastic. Organic eggs and ham were out of the question, along with eating out for anything that wasn’t take out. Couponing became a must and Guy was always on the lookout for a sale. Most of their furniture came mix matched from thrift shops and online marketplace sales. 

But there was one thing that stood out the most among all of the little cutbacks: The apartment only had one bed. _____________

The first night they spent in the new apartment Guy was only mildly surprised that there was only one bed. The landlord had assured him that sleeping accommodations would be included with the down payment, but staring at the bed and thinking back to the conversation Guy realized that he hadn’t specified that this single bedroom would be shared by two people. An oversight on his part. 

“I guess this makes us Same-Bed-Buddies too huh?” Sam joked, but there was an unusual tension to his tone, as if he were more upset with the arrangement than Guy was. 

“After being shipped in a box with you this might as well be a California King.” 

Sam laughed in response and then threw himself onto the mattress, giving it a good bounce. 

Guy thought that would be the end of it and prepared himself to get nuzzled to near death in his sleep, but later that night he was surprised to find how reserved Sam was.

The little Who would toss and turn, inching closer to Guy, then suddenly catch himself and scoot back as if he were in trouble. It was odd, considering how touchy Sam was during all other aspects of their life. Guy mused that maybe he was trying to give him his space; they’d learned a lot about each other on their adventure, including how to be more considerate of each other’s boundaries. It was a sweet thought if true, even if a bit misguided.

An hour was spent with Sam tossing in a restless sleep and Guy, eyes wide awake, growing more and more frustrated as each minute passed. There was sadness mixed in there as well; the realization that this must’ve been how Sam always slept, twitching and alone and desperate to cling but being unable to find anything (or anyone) to hold.

The tossing and turning got to such a point that Guy’s nerves just couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Oh for the love of yip, just come here.” 

A groggy Sam slowly opened one eye, trying to take in the dark surroundings, but before he could respond to what was going on, Guy pulled him into his arms.

The little Who was still for a moment, the shock of being woken up and pulled into an embrace rendering him silent for a rare moment. After a minute or two, he wrapped his arms around Guy and buried his face into the soft ring of fluff around the Knox’s neck. 

“You’re kinda chubby.” Sam said sleepily, voice muffled by fur. 

The Who must’ve felt a rebuttal coming because he soon followed his words with a content sigh and pressed his body closer against Guy’s.

“I like it…’s comfy.” 

There was nothing Guy could say to that. Sam seemed to drift off into a now much quieter sleep, warm and contently pressed against Guy’s weight and soft fluff. 

Guy had to admit to himself that he didn’t hate the scenario. Quite the opposite in fact. He found that he enjoyed the feeling of Sam wrapped around him, the other’s little body tucked perfectly against him as Guy adjusted his arms so that they wrapped around his friend in return. Something about the feeling was...safe. Secure. The only drawback in his mind was that at some point in the morning, he would have to let go. 

That night they both slept with more peace than either had felt in a long time. 

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 2)

Summary: Arthur falls off a cliff and lands in the past. Hellbent spoilers.

Part 1: here

Part 3: here

Arthur slipped into the garage, inhaling the lingering smell of oil and petrol. It's strangely comforting. Lance is standing with his back to him. He’s motioning to his assistant Darrel, leaning over an open car engine and pointing at something of interest. Around them, spare parts and various tools are hung in their places along the walls and stacked neatly on selves. The mundane sight is a balm to his completely shot nerves.

“Arthur,” his Uncle greets jovially, eyes still fixed on the car, “There you are. Get over here and take a look at this beast,”

Arthur automatically takes a step and hesitates. He’s is in his pyjamas, a lose faded t-shirt and shorts, and completely barefoot. Definitely, not workshop approved attire.

Lance steps back off the low foot-bench, used to reach into the tricker parts of car engines, glancing back, “Poor bastards broke down a few miles up.  New-fangled electric hybrid engine so I’ll get ya to take a look at it before anythin.”

Their eyes meet and he trails off, giving Arthur a once over. Lance immediately frowns and Arthur can practically hear the lecture on workshop health and safety forming in his Uncle’s head.

He quickly steps back into the doorway and blurts, “Sorry, um, could I borrow your phone for a second?”

Lance crossed his arms unimpressed, “Ya know that crap about shoes in the workshop is there for a reason, right.”

“Sorry, Sorry,” Arthur rubs the back of his head with his left hand. It’s nice to be able to do so without getting the strands caught in metal panels, “I, uh, forgot….”

“Hey Arthur, catch,”  Darrel, thankfully, interrupts his muddled excuse, tossing his phone from across the room.  Arthur spends a good few seconds fumbling the item, trying to adjust to his heightened levels of coordination. Mercifully, he doesn’t drop it. He shoots Darrel an appreciative glance.

“The password’s 1234,” Darrel grins and Lance gives them both an unimpressed stare.

“Thanks, Darrel. I’ll just go and…uh…get dressed?”

He starts to turn and beat a retreat. This is obviously not the time for attempting conversation, his was mind fumbling for sentences worse than usual. He hesitated mid turn because finding another phone had not been his objective when coming down here.

“Could you tell me the date real quick?” He asked, forcing himself not to fidget. Lance is now looking more concerned than annoyed, squinting at Arthur like he’s trying figure something out. His Uncle is blunt and to the point, hiding his inherently perceptive nature under a layer of grumpiness. He probably knows somethings up. Hopefully, it would be attributed to a poor nights sleep.

“It’s the 4th”

“and the year?”

Now Darrel is also looking confused, “2014?”

“Right. Thanks,” Arthur spins on his heel marching away, avoiding any incoming ‘are you okays’ and ‘Is something wrongs.’ It’s not the smoothest of exits but he honestly wasn’t feeling up for any more conversation. Not when his mind is buzzing with impossibilities.

Arthur walks straight back to his room. The old lock on his door is back and he fixates on it briefly before pushing inside.  His room is warming, morning light still spilling through the window. It catches on the peach-coloured wallpaper, giving everything an orange glow. It’s comforting and Arthur seats himself at a surprisingly sparse desk. There’s a small stack of notes filled with calculations and he puts Darrel’s phone down on top of them after quickly checking the date. Then he turns on his computer and checks there as well. It’s all the same. 2014. He glanced around for Galahad who was nowhere to be seen. Neither is his cage or tricked-out running wheel. But that makes sense. He had bought Galahad a year ago, meaning it would be a year until he saw the hamster again. Confusing and disappointing. He could really use a Galahad right about now.

So… date confirmed. 2014. He doesn’t know what it means and part of him still wants to grab his keys, drive into town, and question more people. The how’s, what’s and why’s circle around his head, leaving him at a loss.

Was he suffering a mental break? Was this the afterlife? One minute he’s falling and Lewis is…Lewis is… and the next minute he’s in bed and all the evidence is pointing to it being two years earlier. Only, that’s impossible, because time travel is impossible. Just like ghosts were supposed to be impossible. Arthur frowns, massaging his head. He had learnt that lesson the hard way. Answers, as par for the course, elude him.

Reluctantly, he dredges up recollections of The Cave. In his mind, it’s a muddled mess of twisted horror and agony. For the last two years, it had been a clouded nightmare, drawing him down into sharp teeth and pain. He was loathe to revisit it, especially now, when his mental facilities and energy were a few moments away from a complete meltdown. Arthur poked at the memories anyway, trying fruitlessly to dig up answers. He remembered entering the cave, walking down into the dark. Lewis’ form up ahead, torch in hand.

Something sliding into this mind, ripping him open. He was trapped in shadow. There was no way out. Ahead of him, Lewis walked, touch light dimming. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Nope. None of that. Arthur refocused, chocking off the worst of it. A few seconds of breathing exorcizes and re-centring later and he tried again. He remembered entering the cave. Losing sight of Lewis. Mystery. Losing his arm. Vivi’s panicked face before passing out. Then he had awoken in a hospital to lots of questions and no answers. Everything useful twist away, out of reach, taunting him. Police investigations had turned up nothing. Lewis was just gone. Not even a body left behind. The only one who probably had any clue was Mystery but the dog fluctuated between cagy to annoyingly vague on the details.  Arthur had never pressed for more. Maybe he should have. If Lewis had died that night and Mystery had known. Had known all along. Then Mystery had watched as he and Vivi drove from one side of the country to the other, searching fruitlessly. No… Mystery had watched Arthur searching. Vivi had just been along for the ride, humouring his chase, all memories of Lewis gone.

Unsteadily, he ran both hands through his hair, pulling lightly at the strands and taking solace in the sensation. If that ghost was Lewis. Then Lewis had died. He had probably died in The Cave, making Lewis the purple ghost who had tried to…in the same cave…had succeeded…in…killing…

His left-hand sparks, sending small shocks through his shoulder. It's beyond trashed but the sensation gives him enough awareness to move it up in a jerky action. In his desperation, he manages to hopelessly cling to the ghost’s arm.

Arthur rests his forehead down against his desk, curling up around his restored arm. Phantom pains run up and down its length. He’s breathing heavily again, gasping for air.

Suddenly it's Lewis. Lewis is there but his face is twisted and hateful. 

It takes a lot more than a few seconds but eventually he succeeds in pushing the memories and fear away, finding an equilibrium again.

Why?

The question hangs uncomfortably, weighing on his mind. With the information he has he doesn’t understand. There’s a lot he doesn’t understand now.

Arthur sits up and uncurls, leaning back on his chair to stare to the ceiling. Shakily, he wipes his face, rubbing the damp from his eyes. It doesn’t matter. Mystery. Lewis. If he was two years back in time then none of it mattered. Just more fuel for the nightmares, which would now be returning with a vengeance. He had been doing so well up until the mansion, managing a regular sleep schedule with seven full hours a night and everything.

For now, he leaves the conundrum alone, looking around for a distraction. There’s nothing of interest and he can’t for the life of him remember what he should be working on at this point in time. When had he finished that online engineering course? 2013? Arthur gets dressed and heads down to check out the hybrid engine his Uncle had mentioned before his abrupt exit.

Lance gives him a look when he returns but doesn’t mention Arthur’s odd behaviour. Darrel is there and he returns the guys phone, waving off another greeting. He slots back into the workshops routine without issue, listening to his Uncle and Darrel talk over their a recent acquisition as he examines, dismantles and reconstructs.  

Just as he’s feeling some sense of normality, relaxing into the work, there’s a familiar yell of greeting from outside the garage. Through the open roller doors, on the other side of the chain-link fence designed to keep out the general public, Vivi is waving to catch his attention.

“Hey! Arthur! Hey! Can you let us in the front! No one’s answering. I told you, you need a better doorbell!”

Uncle Lance straightens, shaking his head.

“That girl,” he huffs, turning to Arthur, “How about ya go let your friends in before someone decides to climb a fence. I think I got this covered.”

Arthur stares at Vivi who is still waving, attention shifting. Next to her is a familiar purple-clad shape. He’s standing, hands tucked casually in pockets, watching Vivi yell with a fond smile. Any form of relaxation instantly evaporates.

It's Lewis.

Note: Because people seemed to like the idea I decided to continue. I do have a part 3 planned but it’ll probably take a few days to finish. 

[larissaloki]

Planet Platypus 1

This is a rehash of an old ask I received that year. I decided to redo it in a more fic like format to put onto Ao3.

Xeno porn ask again, but this is only if u feel like answering, cos I doubt you wanted to go that deep with porn, how did they meet? How did they fall in love? Do their friends approve? Is Steve a oomen or a yautja (I learned their name cos of you thanks)

Since humans managed to develop the technology to be able to go further out into space, exploring the infinite galaxies and stars that are scattered among the dark space, filling it with many wonders and mysteries to be discovered. Despite being an Omega, Tony promised himself he would be one of the first to explore the new places out there. Looking for other lifeforms.

Tony loved his group consisting of Bruce Banner and Janet van Dyne, the scientists that were there to take samples of the plants and dirt to analyse, using tech that Tony made to safely do so. He was happy that the other two never scoffed at his creations or tried to change his designs behind his back. They instead often marveled at his creation and praising his intellect and design.

Thinking that the world isn’t inhabited by many species that could pose a major threat if they were careful, the group set about doing their jobs. Carefully collecting samples of plants and the dirt in different areas to analyse back at camp later, sweating in their protective suits they elected to wear when collecting samples from possible dangerous areas.

Bucky and Steve saw from a distance a new craft come into the atmosphere of their hunting preserve planet, hunting season was over for now and they were just cleaning up their trophies and camps; when they saw this mysterious craft. Not one they recognised.

Together, they volunteered as elites of the clan to check it out and find out what has arrived at this planet, something worthy of a hunt? Another similar species that used this planet that they didn’t know about? Swiftly they made their way through the jungle using their knowledge of the layout to their advantage to get through as fast as possible. Soon they arrive at the landing site of the new craft and decide to observe for a while, decide if the new comers are worth their attention.

Hiding in the trees as they watch the oomans; much to their surprise, they didn’t think humans had this technology yet; make camp and explore the surrounding area, using small unfamiliar devises to take samples. Seemingly so far harmless stuff, the oomans they could see didn’t look like fighters either. Thin and smaller than the ones they prefer to hunt.

As they observe silently from the safety of the trees, they notice that the smallest one, an omega, seems to be the one in charge of the group. Often showing the other two scientists the new stuff that the smaller one was familiar with, possibly the one to have made it? (their close, the equipment was designed by Tony and Helen Cho they later find out) As well as the improved perimeter and defense systems. A series of well placed sensors that will alert them of incoming creatures silently, on a monitor they will see what it is and be able to decide of it needs chasing off or can be left alone.

When Bucky and Steve see these they can’t help but be impressed by this human and its creations, since the last time they saw human tech, it has advanced greatly. Something to perhaps bring up with their clan and look into doing more worthy hunts on earth again, now that they may prove more of a challenge.

They decide to keep an eye on this group. There are a few armed guards that keep watch that they are itching to hunt but restrain themselves, not wanting to give away their position.

As time goes on, the Yautja managing to keep out of sight the entire time using their camouflage tech, they use this chance to learn as much as they can as well, sending updates to their clan who had decided to stay away.

They always found humans biology weird but intriguing, many times the Yautja have pondered over the sub genders of human beings. What makes an Alpha and distinguishes them from the Beta’s and Omega’s. The Los Angelos clan had studied these in much more detail, even working out how to use them to their advantage.

Over time, Steve also watches as Bucky becomes more and more enamoured with the small omega of the group, who’s name they learnt was Tony. Seemingly attracted to the small Omega and trying to get closer to learn more about him, hiding by the tents to listen to their conversations, storing away as much as he can. Steve thought it to risky to get so close, opting to watch from a distance instead, but he couldn’t help the concern he felt for his comrade.

Steve made it his mission to keep an eye on Bucky more so than the humans, he doesn’t want his friend falling for someone that had a high possibility of rejecting him. The species were very different biology wise, they had no idea if the could even procreate with each other, none of this however, seemed to deter Bucky from his interest in the omega.

The first meeting between Bucky and Tony doesn’t happen until a month into being on this new planet; which Tony had declared its name as Platypus 1. No one took him seriously of course, but it was hilarious to document, Bruce could not wait to see Hank Pym’s face when he read the report.

Tony took a trip out to a small water source, just a small walking distance from the camp, he was in charge of studying it and making notes of the waters ecosystems. Bruce would but he was analysing flower properties. As he bent over to take stuff out of a case with his back to the water, Bucky caught a good view of that pert tight ass through tight as sin shorts that made Bucky’s mind short circuit. Hands loosing their grip as it slackens, Bucky fall’s from his perch in his tree, landing into the water with a massive splash.

Jumping as he spins around , Tony gets his first glimpse of Bucky’s form as his camouflage crackles, sparks and ultimately fails due to the exposure to the water. Large, broad and muscular in size; much taller than most humans on earth, easily hitting past 7 ft tall. From the glimpse Tony catches, he can see dreadlock like strands coming from the head that’s a shiny metal in appearance. The skin he can see, looks dark yellow, beige and brown in colour.

Stunned, Tony is frozen still as he watches this hulking form scramble out of the water and run off into the jungle.

That night, Tony keeps it to himself what happened at the water; as he puzzles over what species he had seen. Was it a threat? Was it something sentient that they could make contact with? Deciding to test this theory and throw caution to the wind, Tony goes back to the water the next day and the next and the day after that, sitting by the water and peering into the trees and taking food with him in hopes of luring the being out.

On the third day, Tony accidentally dozes off on a blanket under the warm sun. Bucky finally then gets the courage to come out of the safety of the trees and get a closer look at this alluring ooman sleeping recklessly out in the open. Bucky himself had returned each day but kept himself hidden, weary of showing himself to the ooman incase of a trap.

Deciding to look at the contents of the open basket at the ooman’s side, which Bucky had seen him take things out of, he explores quietly and looks over each bottle and wrapped food. As Bucky was inspecting some cheese, Tony wakes up and watches him silently, trying to keep still to not be noticed.

“So you’re who i saw in the water the other day?”

Jolting Bucky nearly flees right then. God this clan would be embarrassed by all the running away he’s been doing lately. Steeling himself Bucky forces himself to stay where he is, turning to look at the ooman and nods silently, Bucky is nearly 2000 years old and he knows some Human language from hunts in the past, enough to understand them at least.

One look at those molten brown eyes and Bucky was smitten.

From here they start to communicate more, learning about each other and even some words from the other language. Bucky is careful to hide these secret meetings for as long as he can. But after two weeks, Steve finally catches him and has a stern talk with him to be careful, to be sure that these ooman’s won’t try and capture Bucky for study. Their species secrets cannot be revealed to outsiders.

It takes some convincing for Steve to approve of this secret meeting between the two but after Bucky personally introduces Tony to Steve; well lets say Steve only knew the small bean for like 30 minutes but he would personally kill anyone that upset the lil lamb. Including Bucky.

They quickly learn that Tony is a clumsy, reckless genius as Tony keeps coming back with cuts and bruises from experiments, but always with a smile on his face as he succeeds in his latests experiments.

Tony’s friends all have a mixture of emotions when they learn of the predators. Of course Tony would make friends with a species that could snap them in half without a single ounce of effort. Of course Tony would think their adorable when they are snarling at each other over territorial disputes. Bruce often questions if Tony hit his head as a baby when Tony coos over Bucky’s real face after it’s revealed- scaly looking skin with mandibles that flares out in four ways with even an inner mouth, reminding him of some vampire like things in one of the blade movies.

Bucky also took to wearing anything Tony makes him with pride once the courting officially starts. Often showing off anything tech wise to his Clan with a smug click of his mandibles, many who are confused about why Bucky would choose a human but accept it because Bucky and Steve have always been the odd ones.

Steve often punches Bucky in the mask for his smugness. The prick.

[clevernewdimension]

Polaris Part Nine

Parts: Preview, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten (Coming soon!)

Genre: Action, drama, romance, sci-fi, etc.

Paring: Jongin x Character

Word count: 7.1K

A/N: After a long time, and update! Please enjoy the part and feel free to message me your feels!

Minjung felt her heart race as she walked. Everyone around her running towards ships and fighters for the incoming attack while she seemed eerily calm in the middle of it all. She wasn’t, though. Her vision getting blurry as she blinked, noticing she was crying. Fear. A feeling that could cripple her. For so long she worked to have the power and respect so that people feared her, not the other way around. She hated being afraid. Minjung grew up being afraid for hours, like her brothers. One wrong answer meant a beating. One hair out of place meant she was locked in a room for who knows how long. No food. No water. No light. That wasn’t even the worst of it. She knew that Minseok and Jongin got punished the worst. Minseok, because he was supposed to be the heir, and Jongin, because he was to be trained to be a weapon that felt no pain. The faint scars on their body a testament to that. The branding burned into their flesh all the proof needed. It was funny, how their father shows his favoritism. Part of her envied her brothers, because she wanted to be the one their father felt proud of. It wasn’t all she envied about them. They were braver than she ever could be. She would rather be a coward and be intelligent than a brave idiot. Fear is a feeling she hates. It makes her weak. It forces mistakes from her.

So, because of that, Minjung surrounds herself with power, keeping people weak beneath her as she did what had to be done for her mission. She hungers for power like nothing else. Desperate for her father’s approval. The only weapon he has left after the other four abandoned them. The best one, he tells her. She was a glittering gem while her brothers were shattered glass of what could have been. The only loyal one. The strongest one. The smartest one.

Or so she thought. Being moved around like a doll by Jongin made her feel uneasy for the first time in her life. She was never meant to be a fighter, but she was trained nonetheless. Better than many that faced her and yet it wasn’t enough. All those years of Jongin being trained to be the weapon made him intimidating for the first time in her eyes. Her resolve and bravery cracking. Then, hearing him like that over the intercom made her want to shatter. He scared her, because she knew he meant those words. Jongin has a soft heart for those he cares about. A sense of what’s right and wrong and wants to help. She knows Jongin feels like he owed Lang his life, and she pulled on that thread waiting to see them fall apart only for it to come together and get even stronger. It takes threatening a person he deeply cares for to make Jongin act like the weapon their father always wanted.

But he wasn’t coming after her yet…

“She’s still alive,” She mutters to herself. If she would have killed herself like instructed, Jongin would have sacrificed whatever it took to come after her. He would have turned his back on his piloting duties and came for her like an avalanche of certain doom. She remember growing up and watching her youngest brother fight off people after people. His skin covered in cuts, all given to him by Father. If Jongin let’s go of his integrity and his will to be a good person, he can be the most destructive person in this and any other universe. He was trained that way, after all. She remembers watching a seven year old him snapping bones of grown men like it was nothing. The look of cold and cruelty in his eyes. To be an unfeeling machine. Somewhere along the way, he broke out of that. He, to his core, was a good person. Their mother instilled that within them. Minjung ignored it. Jongin didn’t. He was also trained to go after people for revenge. For her… for Lang, he would give into that feeling no question if she had died. But he didn’t. Minjung isn’t certain if there was anyone in her life she would fight for like that...

And now she’s at a crossroad. Does she got after her, finish the job? Or does she turn tail and run? The thought of facing her brother if she did come back to try and end Lang life rattled her. She felt the dread and fear down to her bones. Deep down, Minjung knew what kind of person she was truly.

Jongin rolled Aryl with practiced ease. Most fly worse when their emotions are getting to them, but not Jongin. It’s like he’s moving even quicker. His fighter shooting down more enemies than ever before. Their ships turning into infernos of death as they crash into the water. The sea gathering those dead and dying in it’s cold depths. If it was any other pilot, he’d have an earful of being too flashy. But his skills are known. He flies like he needs to in order to do his job. He sees Sehun’s flyer trying to get two off his tail before he moves to help.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” His brother’s voice says over the comms. Junmyeon’s calm voice a comfort to Jongin. The only one he had right now. The third eldest in their family was calm and composed in times like this. It’s what Jongin needed right now.

“I thought you were in Singapore,” Jongin mutters, focusing as he did a quick turn, firing on the person who was chasing him.

“Turns out a fighter flight between the two is barely a minute. They showed up on their radars and I left,” He hear his brother say, “Someone has to watch over you. Baekhyun is helping Kyungsoo, so he couldn’t.”

Jongin’s heart hurts, “How is she?”

“She woke up once. They had her arm out and there was a screwdriver. Almost stabbed it into herself before Kyungsoo could knock her out,” Junmyeon mutters, “They’re getting that shit out of her arm as we speak.”

Jongin let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He nods to himself. “Dae? Chanyeol? Xing? What are they doing? Are they ok?”

“Dae and Chanyeol are helping civilians get into the underground shelters. Yixing will be out there in a minute. Don’t know where he was hiding, don’t want to know just in case he needs to hide again.” He says Junmyeon tapping away at the console in front of him. “Kyungsoo told me what you said,” Junmyeon calmly says over the comms. It was nice, having his calm voice there to talk to while there was nothing but chaos around him. “What they made her do. I’m sorry. You must be hurt.”

“I…,” Jongin starts, after one of the Kryton’s ships she was fighting is finally shot down by him. “I really believed it, Jun. Minjung was right to choose that, because I barely noticed anything was wrong. I was so happy that she…” Jongin shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter, though. Not now.”

He hears someone plug into their conversation. “There’s a ship leaving from the base. High ranking insignias,” Jongin hears Sehun say. “I’m going to try to shoot it down before it gets too far gone.”

Junmyeon gasps, “I switched to a non recorded feed. Sehun, that’s high treason-”

He could hear Sehun just laugh, though he could tell it was from stress. “Well, add that charge onto my murder of Iscar Rhys. Turns out high treason is something I good at,” Sehun say so casually.

Jongin’s eyes widen as he turns his ship to where he sees the escaping one. Though the window he sees his father and sister, along with someone piloting them. “Sehun, you really-”

“I overheard them. Yixing and Lyra,” He says, “They talked about that man before their marks were off. And then again, as they were getting removed. I’ve never seen them like that…” Sehun laughs, “Besides, I can’t help but want people like that asshole to rot. Reminds me of my father.”

Jongin knew exactly what he meant. Sehun told him once, about his life before the Syndicate. His father an ambassador for Etherion and his taste for young children, including his son. A man many respected, who took trips to Tribal frequently. That was, until Ambassador Oh fell ill, and no one knew why.

“How,” Junmyeon asked, “You were getting ice, and there was no evidence-”

“Chemical spill suit, the cleaner that was on the maid’s trolley outside his door, and a time manipulator,” Sehun says, calmly.

“Time manipulator,” Junmyeon asks, “Those are astronomically expensive. How did you get one on a Syndicate pilot salary?”

“It was your fathers, right,” Jongin asks, as he moves his flyer in front of his father and sister ship, making them stop.

“Yeah,” Sehun says, “He-”

Jongin cut himself from the feed, moving the radio over to the frequency of the Higher Syndicate line, surprised it wasn’t protected. Sehun will just have to excuse him on this. He sees his father look at him, seething in anger while his sister tooks terrified beyond belief. He made sure to flip the switch next to the radio, just in case. Even if the Fighter is blown up, the recording is remotely being saved to Junmyeon’s control computer.

“You tried to have me killed,” Jongin says, feeling his throat tightened. The anger and betrayal he felt finally coming to the surface.

“Yes,” His father says, his words stabbing into Jongin’s heart. For the first time he could remember, his father was disheveled. He didn’t like like a picture perfect higher up. Instead, he looks like a sad angry man.

Even know, knowing the kind of monster he is, Jongin still feels the need to make his father proud. Years of brainwashing would do that, he supposed. The tears fell from his eyes in the helmet, as his hands were shaking a little bit. Here it was, the truth. His own kids are expendable. His father a man who never cared for them as people, just as tools.

Jongin could feel himself burning with anger, “You made Krytons. From your fucking experiments.”

His father looked at him, unflinchingly. He stands tall, as if he’s done nothing wrong. “Yes,” He says, staring without a single ounce of regret.

Jongin gripped the steering lever tighter, gritting his teeth for a moment. “You’re a bitter evil man,” He says, “All this because you want to live forever?” His eyes move to his sister, though he knows she couldn’t tell with his helmet. “And you. You have to try to ruin everything in the most painful way possible because it makes you feel powerful when you’re the weakest person I’ve ever known, Minjung.” Jongin shakes his head, “Cowards, the both of you.”

“If you don’t go, we’ll shoot you down,” His father says over the radio.

“You already want me dead, so do it. Or are you all just scared of actually having to get your hands dirty? To be around to see what your decisions cause,” Jongin practically growls at them, glaring at them. The burning hate in their eyes, but mostly, he sees fear. “I’d love you see you try to shoot me down,” Jongin says with a laugh. “A fighter verses this transport pod? We both know who will win.” He looks at the pilot, “Does your pilot really think he can out maneuver me? I’m the best pilot in this and any galaxy. We all know it. If he’s brave enough to try, I welcome the challenge. You’d have to be a hell of a pilot to be able to do it in a slow ship like that.” He looks at his father. Moving and taking of the helmet. The tears still falling from his eyes as he could stare his father directly in the eyes. “Look me in the eyes, then. If you’re actually going to try to kill me, the least you owe me is that.”

Jongin watches as his father moves, slamming his fist down on the trigger button for the huge laser cannon on the front of the ship. Instantly. Unfeeling and unflinchingly. Jongin quickly rolls to the side, as the blast goes past him along with the transfer pod. The helmet held tightly in one hand. He glares, feeling his heart finally shatter. After everything, the person who’s approval he sought after for so long just tried to kill him directly. The Transfer pod moved slowly, giving him time to put the helmet back on. Jongin just simply turns, looking at the wings and seeing the eight thrusters. He locks onto one of the sides, shooting it. Four of the thrusters exploding instantly. He just stops a moment, watching as they go up in flames. The ship, without enough thrust to keep in the air, starts to glide down.

Jongin turns his radio back, “The transerpod is down on the South side of the island. It’ll float there until we can get someone to extract them.”

He could hear a small gasp. “Jongin,” Junmyeon’s voice says, soft and worried. It made Jongin happy that someone was there for him today.

He looked, seeing a ship explode as a Kryton ship moves in. The barrier stops them from getting in, but it was flickering. “The barrier-” He starts, racing off to keep fighting.

“We have someone working on boosting the power to it,” Junmyeon says, “Go. Do what you do best.”

Jongin nods to himself, before taking a deep breath. His heart racing from the encounter. The pain, knowing that his father hated him enough to actually try to kill him just them with his own hands hurts. The pain of knowing his sister was enough of a manipulative bitch to use the person Jongin loved against him. The haunting sight of Lyra trying to kill herself. After the hell he’s been put through, he needs an outlet.

“If we can take out their bomber, the overall threat would go down,” Sehun says to him.

“Let’s get going then,” Jongin says, shoving all his emotions out of his mind while he could. The threat trying to kill innocent people will have to be his punching bag for the moment.

I wince, looking and seeing Baekhyun holding my arm down while Kyungsoo was looking over what seems like a control panel.

“We’re done,” Baekhyun says, looking at Kyungsoo. “You can turn it off!”

He looks at me, smiling. “Here, all done!”

Everything that happened before slams into my mind all at once. The tattoo, Minjung, the knife… Jongin and the kiss… then ruining it all by being forced to try to kill him.

“I need to get to HQ,” Baekhyun says, looking alarmed. “Kyungsoo, you’re going to be needed at the ER. Lyra, things are going to need to be repaired, and I know you just woke up after a whole ass event just happened to you, but we’re being attacked and we need all hands on deck!” He glances around, moving to the part of the garage and seeing radios. He takes two, getting two pairs of ear pieces and hands them to the both of us. “So-”

“SHIELDS AT… 27 PERCENT INTEGRITY, POWER DIRECTED TOWARDS SHIELDS CRITICALLY LOW.”

I take the earpiece, putting it in my ear, “I’ll go see what I can do to help there.”

“Channel One is for high Syndicate officers only. Two is the HQ line. If you go to three and spin the small dial below, you’ll be able to talk directly to some pilots,” Baekhyun explains quickly. “Jun is handling the pilots, I’ll talk to all ground forces and emergency personnel. The room that controls the barrier is basement three. It’s one large room and there will be a control panel close to the entrance.”

I nod, before turning and taking off into a sprint towards the elevator. People running to do their tasks, some new recruits looking like they’ve seen a ghost. I get to the elevator, people trying to get in. One person practically shoving me out the way in order to get in.

I shove that man out, “I’m working on fixing the barrier, you can wait!”

He glares, pointing to his uniform, “I am a high ranking offi-”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I yell, “I care more about the lives of the people on this island than whatever the fuck you’re about to do, now get the fuck out!”

I slam my fist on the close door button, before finally hitting the BASE 3 button. As he just looks at me shocked, I roll my eyes, letting the elevator go down. It felt like it was taking years, and all I can think of was the pain I saw on Jongin’s face. How his bright smile quickly shifted to a look of betrayal. Thankfully he told whoever came in after he knocked me out that I needed the mark removed. I shake my head, trying not to think of that while a whole fucking battle was happening. I didn’t even want to think of what it looked like outside. The carnage that was happening...

When the door opens I see the entire machine barely flickering. I go over to the control panel, looking around. “Power’s low,” I mutter, running a quick diagnostic. I glare, seeing one of the power sources has been unplugged.

“Baekhyun,” I say over the radio, moving and walking to where the diagnostic shows where on the machine the thing has been unplugged. “Someone unplugged one of the power sources,” I yell into the radio.

“The shield being messed with, the plan to kill Jongin… seems to me this attack was planned,” He says, and I could hear the anger in his voice. “On top of the fact that we don’t have a lot of Fighters, Bombers or evac ships. This was the plan all along.”

I pick up the power plug, using every ounce of strength I had to push it into the shield machine. “The power should make the shield stronger,” I say, moving back to the control panel. “I’m going to make the emergency operations be the primary focus of the power. This should add more power to the shields. Power everywhere but the hanger, HQ and the hospital won’t be functional until someone comes here and turns it back off.”

I side my fingers on the screen, watching as it moved to Emergency mode.

“YES,” Baekhyun yells, “Shields now at 87 percent!”

I move to the elevator, seeing it was working still, but the lights were off. “I’m going back up, what and who needs help?”

“There are some laser cannons that popped up after we went into a state of emergency,” Baekhyun says, “If you want to take out Kryton’s that get too close…”

It felt like a blur, running to one of the cannons outside. People screaming, children crying as I hope into the seat and look at what was happening. I vaguely remember passing by Jongdae as he was directing people into a shelter. The chaos going on as I see Fighters racing about. I feel my heart in my throat when I see one speed by with a bear painted on it. I see a massive bomber, coming towards us.

“Baekhyun,” I mutter, “Is the bottom of the bomber open or not?”

“It’s closed,” He says, “Seems like they want the shield down first.”

“Fuck,” I shake my head. Looking at the ship. I look at the gun, seeing a sight folded down. I flick it up, seeing it magnify as I point it at the bomber. I smirk, knowing exactly what it was. “Patch me into Jongin.”

“Alright,” He says, as I hear a quick buzz as the channel changed. I hear Junmyeon speak.

I completely cut him off. Any other time I could get court martialed for that, but not now. Not that Junmyeon would mind. “That bomber is an older version of the Syndicate’s,” I say, “It has a weakness! Beneath the wing is VERY thin layer of metal between it and the top of the bomb storage. If we can just hit it, the whole thing should be done for.”

“How large an area,” I hear Jongin say over the radio. His voice meaning business. I could tell he isn’t even thinking about anything that’s happened before now.

“As long as the wing and less than a third of a meter in height,” I say, shooting a ship that flew buy me. I frown, “It’s going to require a precise shot.”

“Fuck,” Jongin yells, “I’m not that great of a shot.”

“You could kite it towards me,” I say, “I’m on the canon closest to the hanger. I’m a better shot, but the range on these things are not that great.”

“It would have to get too close,” Jongin, and I could tell he was angry. “Not worth it. The explosion would heavily damage the shield and risk you.”

I could practically feel my heart in my throat at him saying that. “Then I don’t know what to tell you other than try to shoot it,” I say, seeing a Flyer racing towards me. I manage to shoot the driver easily, turning to try and shoot down fast Kryton patchwork Fighters.

“I have an idea,” Jongin says quietly. “Jun… Is Yixing out and about doing his thing?”

“Yeah,” He says, as I manage to hit a Fighter. The sky is full explosions and lasers. Shrapnel raining from the sky, some coming my way as I cover my eyes with my arms. I hiss, feeling some cut into my skin, before I move, looking back and seeing a Fighter crashing down into the water in front of me, a ball of fire being extinguished and sinking quick.

“Tell him to look for me. Lyra,” Jongin says, and I should hear his voice shake. I felt dread, knowing he was planning something. “I’m sorry. You worked really hard on this Fighter, but this is our best chance.”

I was about to ask before I see Jongin’s Flyer racing towards the bomber. My eyes go wide, understanding what he was thinking. “Don’t you fucking dare Jongin you could Di-”

I see his wing clip the thin metal. The wing being ripped away, as it starts to spin. The bomber starts to explode as I see Jongin eject, his Fighter exploding soon after. I felt sick, it felt like an eternity before the parachute opened. “That fucking idiot,” I yell into the radio.

“Yixing is going to him,” Junmyeon says, “The bomber is done. The major threat is over with. Now it’s just clean up.”

I rip the radio out of my ear, taking my worry and fear out with the firepower I have at my hands. Junmyeon was right, it didn’t take long for the fight to be over. I leapt from the gun, moving towards headquarters.

I see a Flyer race above me, as I get into a sprint towards the comms building. I burst through the door, seeing Jongin and Yixing. Blood on Jongin’s side as he was leaning into Yixing, but his eyes locked onto his Father and Sister, both soaked and being held at gunpoint.

I walk forward, moving and pushing my way. The untameable anger I felt bubbling over just seeing Minjung’s face. She glanced at me, before looking away quickly. I move, balling my fist up as I pull it back, letting it smash directly into her face.

Her nose starts to bleed as she looked at me, eyes full of tears, “How da-”

“Fuck you,” I growl, “You goddamned manipulative bitch!”

“I am a higher rank than you,” She says, glaring, “I’ll have you killed for treason!”

I grabbed her jacket, pulling her so that we are face to face. “It would be worth it,” I scream in her face, my eyes filling with tears of anger. “I’d gladly die as long as I dragged your ass into hell with me! How fucking dare you act like you’re in the right!”

She glares, her hand quickly grabbing my throat. Before I could even act, I see someone rip that hand away. She looks, her eyes going wide in fear as I glance, seeing Jongin next to me, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him.

“What did I tell you about putting Lyra in danger,” He growls, his grip on her hand getting tighter.

“Let go of me,” She says, sounding more like a whine than a command.

“Threatening a high ranking officer is treason,” Commander Kim says.

“Speaking of treason,” Minseok says, looking at his father. “What will happen when everyone in the known galaxies learn of what all the inner circle of the Syndicate has done?”

His father glances at him, “You have no proof. The conversation you recorded Jongin will be dismissed as it was taken without my knowledge.”

“But the info chip with your plans and messages to one another is proof enough to let you all suffer the consequences,” Yixing says, and I see him smirking. “Along with taking down the Tribian royalty, as they knew of the plan all along.”

“We looked all over your room,” Minjung says, shaking her head as she smirks. She wiped her face, trying to regain composure. “There was no chip.”

“It wasn’t in mine,” Yixing says, reaching into his pocket, taking it out. He looks at me, “Ceiling fan was a good idea. Genius that you weighed all the blades down too.”

“Thank you,” I say, smiling. “What worse is if she would have thought to ask me when I was under the mark again, she would have known.” I look back at her, “Seems like she constantly misjudges everyone. Not as smart as she thinks she is.”

“Smart enough to trick you and make you assault a high ranking officer,” She looks at the security around us, “Aren’t you going to arrest her?”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Jongin says, just as we hear the door open. I look, seeing Kyungsoo move inside. He was covered in blood except his hands. He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, pulling Jongin towards a table as he sat in a chair. He doesn’t seem to care one bit about the tension on the room.

“How,” The doctor asks, looking over the wound after lifting Jongin’s shirt. His Pilot jumpsuit  down to his waist and tied there.

“Kryton blade,” Jongin says, “They clipped me as I was parachuting.”

“Not deep,” He says, “Looks worse than it is. Hand still good?”

Jongin nods, just glaring at his sister. “I told you to leave her alone,” Jongin says as Kyungsoo was taping some gauze over the cut on his side.

“You also told me you didn’t care for her,” Minjung scoffs. “Which is funny because literally everyone who knows you knows you’re so in love with her it’s pathetic.” She laughs, “Brother, I thought you’d have better taste than some Tribian whore.”

My heart fluttered hearing about Jongin loving me. Then I just rolled my eyes to the rest of her sentence. “Say what you will,” I say, shrugging, “It won’t stop the fact that you’re both probably going to get fried. I made something of myself from nothing. You started in a good place and threw it all away.”

She reaches out, grabbing my shirt and pulling me to her. “I will not be lectured by some worthless bitch!”

Before I could do something, I see a hand grab hers and pull her away a second time. I glance, seeing Jongin glare at her. Her face goes pale, eyes wide.

Baekhyun smiles, walking over from his computer, “I wouldn’t get so daring since all the proof of your plans are gracing ever screen in the galaxies right about now.”

Jongin lets go of her, smirking seeing her face go pale.

“Looks like I’m the senior most officer here now,” Minseok says, looking at the security. “Place them in the holding cells. Check them over to make sure they have no weapons. Have Officer Zhang help you. He’ll know what to look for. We have statements to make.”

Commander Kim was red with anger, “The other commanders-”

“Are currently in custody, as we replaced this information to the second in command of the whole Justice department. They are, like you, going to be transferred to Mars, where the Justice headquarters is. There you will be judged for your crimes,” He calmly explains, looking at him. He shakes his head, “All this time you were a selfish bastard. We thought we were helping people… but it was really all of you all along.”

I saw nothing, watching as they get dragged away. Minjung screaming at her brothers, tears falling from her face as their father was just death glaring them.

Jongin moved, holding his side as he just sat down, closing his eyes and leaning back. I walk to him, as he just glances at me. I could see the heartbreak in his eyes. “Lyra,” He says, before looking away, “It’s ok. I know you didn’t mean it. You’re not the type to try to hurt someone unless they deserve it.”

“I almost killed you,” I said, feeling my eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry, Jongin.” I sniffle, looking down.

“Hey,” Jongin says, before I feel something hold my hand. I look, seeing Jongin looking up at me from his seat. He turned to me, a small smile on his face. His eyes weren’t smiling. “I don’t blame you, I swear. It was that mark, like you said. You’re not a murderer. You wouldn’t do something like that. I know you didn’t mean to. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He looked away, “I was so scared, seeing you almost kill yourself…” I see him stop, lip quivering for a moment before he seems to compose himself. “I’m just glad you’re still alive, Lyra.”

“I’m ok,” I mutter, placing my hand on his shoulder. He seemed to tense when I did, before relaxing. I frown, “Jongin, about everything els-”

“Jongin,” Yixing says, looking at us. A small regretful look on his face. “I… I found something else out. You and your brothers should see me. Alone.”

Jongin nods, before standing. He hisses, the cut on his waist hurting. I reach out, helping him stand straight. He looks at me, smiling sadly, before just nodding and walking away. The look of sadness and hurt made me want to completely break.

In that moment, I knew that the feelings I had for him were deeper than just attraction or like. I did love him, and I’m scared he’ll never believe me when I tell him.

Jongin looked at Yixing, who was smiling at him and his brothers. The four Kims standing there, completely shocked. The ticking of a clock in the room were the only sounds for a moment. It seemed to be extremely loud to Jongin, as he just tries to wrap his head around what Yixing just said.

“Mom… she’s alive,” Jongin asks, tears falling from his eyes. “He told us she died in an accident…”

“She’s alive,” Yixing says, smiling. A screen on the wall, moves, as Yixing glides his hand over it, showing their mother. A bit aged, but still beautiful. Her smile just like he remembers. “She’s in Wystria. Making wedding gowns for the last couple of years. She threatened your father to expose everything if he didn’t let you all go from under his thumb.” The spy pats Jongin on the shoulder softly, “He agreed, but she could never see you all again. I’m honestly shocked he didn’t kill her,” Yixing mutters to himself. “I guess there is one person he cared about.” He smiles at the Kims, grinning at all of them. “She’s alive. I contacted her a few days ago. She’s coming here. Should arrive tomorrow. After hearing about the attack, she started to leave. This Galaxy has a jump port to Wystria-”

“Those are expensive to use,” Minseok mutters, his eyes wide in shock though.

Yixing smiled, “Well, turns out your father’s account hasn’t been frozen yet. I remote paid for it with his money. She’ll be here early tomorrow.”

“How did you find all this out,” Minseok asks, quietly. Of them all, he remembered their mother the most. Felt the most pain when she was gone suddenly, seemingly taken from them. Now, he knows she’s alright. Left for their protection. He nods to himself, seems like something she would do.

“There was a file locked on his Reader,” Yixing says, his smile bright for them. He was happy to finally give them at least a little good news. “I know you know of it, Minseok. It took a bit but I finally cracked into it. I set this all up right before there was an attack.” He looks down at the floor, a sigh. “He cared for her. A lot. Which is why she was given an ultimatum. He had a journal. He told the other commanders that he had her killed.” Yixing looks at them, seeing the sour look on their faces at the mention of their father. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s alive, and is excited to see you all again! Right?”

Jongin pulled him into a hug, gripping him tightly. If it hurt him, Yixing didn’t show it. He just held his friend. After everything that’s happened, Jongin finally broke down, crying and sobbing into his friend’s shoulder. His mother, Kim Minjee. He closes his eyes, remembering her white hair and purple eyes. He clutched Yixing tighter, feeling his legs give out as Yixing just carefully got to the floor, on his knees still holding the pilot.

Jongin didn’t even look at his brothers to see their reactions. He just let himself get lost in the pent up feeling of the past day.

Yixing held him tightly, his heart breaking for his friend. When Jongin pulled away, he looks at Jongin. Yixing brushes the hair out his face, “Some advice? For future talks?”

Jongin looked at him, vulnerable. Scared. Yixing has never seen him like this. Always that confident bravado he puts on. Armor to shield him away from negativity. Jongin, the pilot, always ready and willing to jump into any fray looked like a small and emotionally exhausted boy. He nodded.

“When Lyra gets the chance to tell you, believe her,” Yixing says, smiling. “I overheard her and your sister, when she was giving commands and questioning her. You sister didn’t just hurt you today. Don’t push her away. Give her a chance.”

Yixing smiled, patting him on the shoulder. Jongin didn’t remember much, except Jongdae helping him to his room, where he, after the stress of the day, passed out. In his dreams, the smiling face of his mother and a mechanic covered in grease.

[masshirohebi-moved]

"Unrequited" (AinaOroJiraTsu!)

Sometimes, love could build the strongest of bonds, but then,it could also simply tear them a part.

They could write the cruelest of romances, the darkest offairytales. If Jiraiya were the knight, and Tsunade the princess, thenOrochimaru had no other place but to be the villain, an evil witch, a bitterliege that wrecked havoc over kingdoms that rejected them. But evil was not immuneto the gripping hands of love, and they have placed their hopes and dreams onthat so called knight. A hero, a sun in eternal darkness, darkness the serpentwished to escape, wished for him to pull them from. Surely everyone could seejust how beautiful he was? Everyone but the princess.

She turned her gaze away from his affections, no matter how muchthe knight craved her touch and approval. And no matter how many times he sworehe’d save her, she swore twice over that she didn’t need saving- how theserpent wished he would save them instead. They could do with it more than she.But they will keep golden eyes fastened to the man, while the man watches thewoman who sights only the grave of her once true love.  

And although she found that love, death took him away. So no onegets anyone, in the cruel laughing hands of fate. And amid their little talegoes an unspoken one. A farm girl watching from the shadows. She isn’t evenmentioned in the fairytales is she? For only those with powers of glory canmake written pages. She longs for them all, would take any of their hands. 

She would give the knight the touch and approval he is starvedoff. She would give the princess a love that wouldn’t die and leave her in suchdisarray. And how she swore she could fix and mend the villains broken heartand mind. But her sentiment is nothing but a futile wish on a still star. Itwas the shooting ones that were magic, she knows, but she’s had to settle withthe ones that always watch her at night. Because shooting stars never comepast, and perhaps she is tired of beautiful things that never seek her out asshe does them.

That’s the story like version, the romanticized tale. The fourare all far less poetic however, much as eyes who don’t know them may thinkotherwise.

“Your drink ma’am,” the bartender says, cutting the vipersthoughts and bringing them back to the present. They ignore the added ma’amwith mild disapproval. But upon seeing the drink they ordered was wrong on topof it, they quickly wave another server over. A new man, who hurriedlyapproaches and adds a quick, “how can I help you sir?”

They give up with their added names, and practically shove thedrink across the table, “I ordered awamori,” they respond with a slight rasp.It’s hurried away with a bit of annoyance, as if the mess up were somehow theirfault. The evening was kicking off to an annoying start.  This wassupposed to be a classy establishment, or so false advertising told them. Aland that was untainted by politics and feuds. It didn’t matter what headbandyou wore here, but merely how high ones income was. 

While the viper still admittedly had the social skills and classof that same orphan stumbling through filthy streets, they had managed toaccumulate wealth during their pursuits of war heroism. A strange word to useon them. A noise is heard behind the bar, for they are ever aware of theirsurroundings, even in places like these.

“Jiraiya-sama, your reservation was placed for two hours ago, wehave had to give your seat to someone else,” the apologetic doorman says. Towhich a nervous and unfazed half laugh greets him. Typical of the sage, hehasn’t taken offense. Unlike the viper who had half spilled their drink on theserver who hadn’t been the one to wrong them in the first place. His presencehowever, is alarming, and they swiftly try to tug on Aina’s sleeve to get her attention.She isn’t there beside them, and their hand snatches at air. “Surely there is another table available?” Jiraiya asks with the same nervoussmile on his face, “see I have a friend coming for her birthday, she’s reallynot the type you want to turn away at the door.”The serpent muses the date briefly, the 2nd of August, ah yes… whoelse could it be.“Jiraiya,” her voice is spoken in the usual stern tone, never having much of agentle touch both in regards to demeanor and physical affairs. Tsunade standsbelow the light of the entrance way, likely wondering what his sheepishexpression is about, likely wondering why they haven’t been seated yet. Theevening for the viper however, couldn’t be getting much worse. They certainlyaren’t happy their drink was wrong, that still no one has made an appearancewith the correct one, that their friend is no longer seated next to them, thatthe bastard who has snatched her place is puffing away on an air tainting pipe,that the very same man is trying to grab their attention with as much tact as adog begging for food, that the man they had actuallywanted and had been brooding over is now here, with the woman who had stolenhis affections the first time.

A slight huff as they treat the stranger beside them as if he were a ghost,hearing his greeting, but ignoring it just the same. They look around the roomto try and find their friend, who they have decided will need to evacuate with them.The last time they had met Jiraiya at a bar with Aina, things had gone… rather badly.They didn’t want a repeat, with Tsunade added to the mix no less. They spother, and how they should have known what she was doing. It would seem a smallbird had flown in through the window, hadn’t been able to find its way back outagain. The staff had been trying to rid the winged pest by sweeping at it witha broom. But there she was, nursing it in her hands, hands the little creatureseemed quite content in.For that was her fate, wasn’t it? Those that wanted to be saved would flock toher, the serpent surely had. But just like that bird, the moment she will takethe little creature outside, the moment she will have given it a chance oncemore, it will fly away. Her goodness never repaid. They can already imagine herstare of saddened farewell. They break their thoughts for the second time, what on earth has made them sosentimental this evening? They appear at her side, and guide her behind apillar to avoid the eyes of their former comrades. Tsunade, being diplomatic,had somehow found them a table where Jiraiya’s blunder left them without one.She didn’t seem upset however, likely amused and rather self-prided that shehad managed to fix matters again. And Jiraiya merely follows her as if she isthe light in the room otherwise cast in eternal darkness. They can see just howmuch adoration lingers in his gaze. It makes them sick.“We need to leave dear,” they state, abandoning the idea of their drink as theyglance across to the two seating themselves not too far away. It’s a hopelessdance those two Sannin swing to. He’s still chasing her after all these years,and she is still mourning.They let Aina take the little bird with, as they venture outside leading heralong without much explanation. They don’t want to stir needless emotions in her.After all, she had fallen for both members at that table. If the serpent feltso very morbid after seeing only one unrequited disaster, they dared not exposeher to the double blow of two. They don’t let her stop until they are past the outsideseating area, past the public pool filled with high rising palm trees, and thenstill some until they have arrived under the moon on the coastline. There is a faint wind, a warm breeze as they wander a few steps further, thesound of the waves running up to greet them somewhat calming. They turn to her,glance down at the bird she has so tenderly grasped in her hand.“You should let her go now,” they say, for they won’t linger on these shoresfor very long. And the moment her fingers unlace from that loving hold, wingshave flurried to life, have taken to the air. Golden eyes watch honey brownones, and they see a mixture of sadness and happiness. How many times she hadgiven them those eyes, they have lostcount. And perhaps, in this moment, it is the first time they truly feel thegravity of their rejection on her. The same crushing weight placed on theirheart when Jiraiya chose loneliness over them… is what she must feel when theychoose it over her. Guilt isn’t something they feel often, if at all. But theydo find themselves toying with the emotion briefly.Before a more dawning concept comes to mind, when Jiraiya had made them feelthis way, they had left. When Jiraiya had made her feel this way, then Tsunadesoon to follow… Aina had left too. Was it merely a matter of time before shedecided the serpent was just another love lost, before she played the role ofthe bird and departed so suddenly? They don’t love her in the way she wantsthem too, but how their selfish core is loathed to lose a beloved friendbecause her emotions took a turn for the worse. It would be kinder to let hermove on, that was what one did if they loved someone. But when had the viperever known how to love?Because sometimes, love could build the strongest of bonds,but then, it could also simply tear them a part. But they’re not thehumble knight who bows his head when told to leave. They are not the nobleprincess who carries herself away with dignity and poise. They are not the kindfarmer girl, who no matter how many mistakes she makes, will correct them asshe accepts fate is not as kind as she. They are the villain, they deny, they oppose.They get what they want whether it is fair or unjust. And if they hold lovelike they held their sword, if they forged it in to a weapon… why, the deem itpossible to control the deadly and cutting edge of passion.

They take her hand gently, drawing close to place a gentle kiss to her lips,false affections they will leave unexplained. All they need to do is ensnareher, is keep her under the belief that maybe, someday, she would be the onethey chose. Cruel, truly. But so much less cruel on them.And the serpent will let her obsession grow, will nurture it like she does herplants. And if their influence turns the kind girl in to someone more villainous,why, they’ll only feel more successful in their attempts of keeping her around.They could never join her in the light after all, had no knight to pull themfrom the shadows, so they shall secure her place in the darkness of their existenceinstead.  

[winsister91]

Looks Better On The Floor

Part of the SOWINFREDSISIE Celebration!

Summary: @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid asked: Happy 500 to you both! For my request I was thinking Sam/Dean find you getting ready for bed wearing the other brother’s shirt. As their girlfriend they give you a reminder of whose clothes you should be wearing to bed. Or not wearing, I mean naked is good. *wink wink nudge nudge* I wrote for Dean and @sofreddie wrote for Sam: It’s Just A Shirt

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam (mentioned)

Warnings: Fluff, language, implied smut

Word Count: 903

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Dean was splayed out on the motel bed. He clicked away on a remote with pouted lips as he flicked through the TV channels. He had no interest in what was on though, he was just killing time. His eyes darted to the left to glance at the bathroom door, it was still shut, the sound of streaming water slightly audible on the other side. He sighed impatiently, moving his eyeline back to the TV. He settled on some random action flick, the kind that was all explosions and no plot, so it didn’t take Dean long to work out what was going on. Bad Guy had taken Pretty Girl hostage and Good Guy had tracked them down. First there’d be a car chase, then a gun fight, Good Guy wins and kisses the girl. The defining factor on how good the film was, would be how many explosions it could insert during that time. Dean nodded in approval when he saw his third in ten minutes. It was the kind of film he’d enjoy most watching with you, cuddled up in bed or on a sofa with copious amounts of beer and popcorn, the both of you ripping into how ridiculous it was and providing your own ‘comedic gold’ commentary.

Dean’s ears pricked up when he heard the familiar squeak of the shower being turned off. His eyes darted again to the door, which still remained firmly shut. He shuffled up a bit in anticipation. Then incoming moment was a small pleasure of his, one of the highlights of you both being out on a hunt together. Dean knew that shortly, you were going to emerge from the bathroom freshly showered. Your hair would be still damp and tousled from being towel dried, and you would be wearing one of his old shirts. It would hang on you, oversized with sleeves overlapping your hands, and the bottom of the shirt just stopping below the booty. It was a simple but effective look, one that drove Dean wild. Just the fact that it was his shirt made it all the more hotter, he could feel a semi coming on just at the thought.

He smirked to himself, he knew that you knew he loved the look, and what it would undoubtedly lead to.

He quickly snaps back to reality as he hears the handle on the bathroom door turn, and there you were. Hair damp and shirt donned just as expected, wonderfully.

“Hey,” you cooed with a wink, as you made your way towards the bed.

“Hey there,” Dean replied coolly, tongue poking out slightly between his teeth as he looked you up and down.

As you drew closer, Dean spotted that something was...off. The sleeves overlapped your hands almost comically this time, and the bottom of the shirt hung way lower, almost touching the back of your knees.

You hopped on the bed next to him, not noticing the bewildered look on his face. You snuggle into him and look at the TV.

“What are we watching?” you asked chirpily.

He didn’t answer, prompting you to turn your attention back to him. His eyes were narrowed, staring at the shirt intently. He was studying it, trying to remember it. It was a dark green and black plaid one, Dean honestly couldn’t remember if he had one like that or not.

“Problem?” you raised your eyebrow in confusion.

“Let me look at that,” he mumbled, hand reaching down the back of your neck as he fumbled within.

“What the hell!?” you squeak, trying to wriggle free.

He grabbed hold of the tag on the back of shirt, looking at it briefly before he threw his hands up in disbelief.

“That’s not mine!!” He yelled, “That’s Sam’s shirt!!”

“What are you talking about?” you laugh, “Of course it’s yours!”

“No way,” he shook his head, “That aint my size, it’s god damn Yeti sized!”

“Huh…” you stop in thought, holding your hand up and watching what seemed like a whole quarter of the sleeve dropping over your hand, “I thought it seemed a bit big…I dunno, I just grabbed it outta the clean laundry. No biggie.”

“No biggie!?” Dean gasped, “You’re wearing my brother’s shirt and I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

“Well maybe one of you should consider wearing something other than god damn plaid,” you laughed shoving him lightly, “Then maybe I can freaking distinguish what’s yours and his! Hell, it even took you a moment to notice.”

“You giving me attitude?” Dean tilted his head with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“So what if I am?” you shrugged with a smirk, “What you going to do about it?”

“I’m gonna make you pay for picking out the wrong shirt,” he growled, lunging for your arms and pinning you down on the bed.

“Oh!” you squealed in delight, “Oh nooo.”

Dean straddled you before releasing his grip on your arms.

“You can start by taking that damn thing off,” he said in a sinfully low voice.

You didn’t need telling twice, hastily tearing the buttons open and shuffling your arms out of the sleeves. Dean grabs the flannel as soon as it’s off you and throws it to the side, looking you up and down again as you laid before him completely exposed.

“Aw yeah,” he grinned, “That’s a shirt that definitely looks better on the floor.”

Tags! This means I’m unable to tag you anymore :( If I was able to tag you before, PLEASE (if you are over 18) set your blog to ‘explicit’ and also turn off ‘safe mode’. This will be why I can’t tag you anymore because of Tumblr’s new bullshit.

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