#i spent eight hours on this on accident without moving | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ailani-reillata · 3 months

Text

The Acolyte - Chapter Nine: The Witch

Oc Centric - Multichapter - 16k - Rated T

Summary: The Separatist Crisis has reached its peak. War looms throughout the galaxy, casting a dark, bloody shadow over the thinning ranks of the Jedi Order. The end of civilization has already started. This is the story of Jedi Acolyte Ailani Réillata. Her end has just begun.

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight,

AO3 Version

(Please see the AO3 version for the full list of tags and warnings BEFORE reading.)

———

“Seek and destroy.”

The frozen wind tore through her.

Ailani Réillata pulled her coat tighter around her frame, sinking into the layers of fabric and fur, and yet it seemed to do little to keep out the elements. They had only been here mere hours, but already, Ailani could feel the cold settling into her bones.

This was Khorm.

The snow-barren wasteland lay before Ailani’s eyes, the bright white ground and cloudy gray sky like endless reflections, hazy mirrors of each other lost in snowy translation. Cutting through the snow, sky, and clouds, there was only cold—biting and aching cold that snuck into Ailani’s bones and seeped through her clothes. It did not matter how many layers she applied, for the whispers of winter always found their way to her skin.

It burned her lungs. It made her mind ache. It stung her face. It hurt her heart, and yet—

Ailani Réillata found herself smiling.

At least she was out. Out of the temple, out of Coruscant, out of the stuffy Senate halls, and out of the rules of a royal house. Here in this snow-laid wasteland, the real work of the war was done.

Naboo has been…insightful, yet Ailani still yearned for something more, though she could never admit it aloud. When she had come home, everyone had merely pretended she was never away at all, and despite herself, Ailani was quietly thankful for that. She had yearned for Naboo her whole life, and yet…yet… Ailani shook her head, banishing the thought. She didn’t want to think of what happened on Naboo. She didn’t want to think about the cuts on her back or the bounty hunter she had accidentally sliced through, nor the dreams of her Father with hunting knives that now haunted her every sleep.

This mission would be better with only droids as adversaries and massive battles where she could hardly take the blame. This was the kind of fieldwork she wanted. This is what she needed.

Ailani spent so much time in the training room these days, waiting for another chance at fieldwork, practicing moves and maneuvers, and praying for anything besides data work. R3 had even programmed special training droids for her, allowing her to practice flamboyant combat styles with her lightsaber. She would be perfect. She wouldn’t kill someone by accident again. She wouldn’t kill another living being again. She would be skilled enough to avoid that. She would be better—the best .

Ailani shivered again. She could do without the wind, though.

Through the chill and her wandering mind, a voice called, “How are you holding up, young one?” Master Plo broke the comfortable yet cold silence, his low tones heard even over the whistling wind.

Ailani smiled. They had been standing here for a while now, clothed in silence as they watched the rolling snow-capped mountains pass. For a moment, she had almost forgotten he was there. “In honesty, Master, I would much rather be down below with the heater,” Ailani replied, yet even as she spoke with chattering teeth and complaints of the cold, Ailani felt herself smiling at the Kel Dor.

He must have sensed it, for he laughed, a low, warm sound that shot through the tundra and blossomed from the very depths of his chest, “I think you would rather be where the excitement is.”

As usual, his teasing saw right through her, and Ailani replied with another frozen smile, “I wish the excitement were warm.”

Master Plo laughed again, and the sound only made Ailani’s chest grow brighter.

They fell back into an observational silence for a moment, staring out at the sky before them.

Ailani broke the peace this time, “We are nearly to the rendezvous point,” She stated, “Have you thought of what you will say yet?”

Master Plo took a deep breath, contemplating, “I shall be mindful.”

As little of an answer as it was, and as misleading as it seemed, Ailani offered no follow-up questions and pulled her jacket closer around her frame. Jedi answered in their own time, especially members of the Jedi Council. Yet, knowing this did not ever seem to bring about any less confusion.

The mission itself was simple: the Khormai, the native inhabitants of Khorm, had fallen under the thumb of a ruthless warlord. This warlord, in turn, had allied himself with Count Dooku and was using Dooku’s resources and credits to mine the planet's natural resources, mainly agrocite.

Agrocite. The word replayed in Ailani’s mind. Officially, they were not here for the ore. Officially, they were here to liberate the Khormai and restore balance. That is what was written on every report. That is what was said in every briefing. But agrocite? Agrocite was on everyone’s mind. The all-powerful ore seemed to act like an endless battery, a never-ending fuel that appeared to emit infinite power. It was what the Separatists were after.

In her heart, Ailani knew that was what they were after, too, even if none were bold enough to say it.

Suddenly, Master Plo raised a hand to his face, silently hushing Ailani for words that never left her mouth, “Company approaches.”

Ailani half turned her head, following Master Plo’s gaze, and suddenly, she felt familiar presences linger near the edges of her senses. She smiled, a real, warm smile.

“You want to know how old the General is.” It was Master Fisto’s voice, floating gently and humorously over the howls of wind. He had not lost his sly humor and signature smile, even in the harsh climate. Not even for a second.

That humor had annoyed her as a child, and in honesty, sometimes it still got on her nerves as an almost adult of twenty-one, but something about being beyond the temple walls softened her heart.

Or perhaps the cold was just making her delusional.

Most had assumed that Master Fisto would have been her least favorite teacher. In fact, Ailani herself had made that assumption, yet it had proven false. His optimism was laced with clever jokes and a seemingly effortless warmth that Ailani could only dream of. He made joy seem easy. He made life feel warm.

Ailani wished it was.

“His manner makes him different from any Jedi I’ve met so far.” Commander Wolffe’s voice joined Master Fisto’s, lower than the light-hearted tone yet still laced with wit.

Ailani’s smile widened.

Most of the clones accompanying them were strangers to her, members of the 44th Special Operations Division, a newly formed division serving Captain Kendal Ozzel. On the ride over, Ailani had heard whispers that their nickname was “The Devil Dogs,” a title gifted for their reckless and aggressive style. Most of them had never had encounters with the Jedi Council before and, in turn, had never had any encounters with Ailani. Such was the way of the Clone War. There were too many bodies and not enough time to talk. Such was the way of all war.

So when Master Plo Koon had said he was bringing the Wolfpack on their first official mission as his personal strike force, Ailani had let herself yearn for familiarity. She had not seen them in person since the Malevolence or their reassignment. Wolffe never called after she had gotten him a meeting with Plo, and she didn’t want to bother. But that would all be fixed now. Things could go back to the way they were. She could train with them at their new barracks. They could talk again. She could listen to him speak Mando’a, and he could teach her the ways of war. And everything would be okay again.

“Before you ask,” Plo Koon said, his voice directed at the approaching pair and booming over the wind, “I do not believe my age is pertinent to the mission.”

Master Fisto stopped a few meters away, smiling at Wolffe, “Apparently, Kel Dorians do not lose their hearing with the passing years.”

Wolffe’s blank helmet did not betray any emotion, but his sense twinged with carefully masked embarrassment. Caught off guard. Ailani wondered if he even had the ability to flush.

The walker began to creak to a halt, the stiff and frozen joints slowing. They were approaching the rendezvous. Ailani pulled away from her place at Master Plo’s side, creating room for Master Fisto to talk quietly with the Kel Door. Wolffe stepped beside her, a comfortable distance from the Jedi Masters. “How are you holding up?”

They hadn’t really spoken since the mission began, not that Ailani even knew what to say. She wanted to say sorry or maybe ask how he was holding up, and yet the words never came when she looked at him, and he seemed to like pretending that nothing had changed at all. But everything had changed, even his armor. Where paint was once maroon, markings of gray now grew—the Mandalorian color of mourning.

But Wolffe’s tone now was light, friendly, almost relaxed, so Ailani followed his lead and pretended the distance and rust between their communications had never formed, “Why does everyone keep asking that? Do I look that miserable?”

Ailani sensed Wolffe’s smile a half second before his reply crackled through the helmet modulator, “Yes.”

Ailani huffed, impulsively kicking snow in his direction, yet he merely sidestepped away from her childish attempt at humor, and the white clouds floated away in the wind. Wolffe did a mocking dust off his jacket, brushing away non-existent snow, before falling backward beside her. His arm bumped hers for a moment as he settled his weight, shifting on the snow-slick ground. Warmth exploded through her shoulder, and suddenly, the tundra was colder than ever as the memory of burning flame bubbled and his touch left.

Ailani quickly crossed her arms, wrapping them around her body, “I need another coat.” She huffed, changing the subject and willing her shoulder to stop tingling, “It’s freezing.”

“Good luck,” Wolffe said, and his voice sounded lighter than before, almost like he was smiling, “Sinker and Boost already doubled up, and I heard the Devils did too.”

The Devil Dogs had red armor markings, the same shade Wolffe’s used to be.

Ailani banished the thought, reverting to casual conversation, “How are they?”

“Fine,” Wolffe said, slightly stiff suddenly, fragments of the warmth gone, and Ailani felt the wind blow into her bones again, “Captain Sharp and his division are efficient.”

Boost had told Ailani that Captain Sharp was an adrenaline junkie who spoke through a vocalizer because his throat had been shot out. But efficient was an effective description, too.

Ailani tried to reignite the ease in his voice, “You guys thinking of meeting up and howling at the moon later?”

“That’s hilarious,” Wolffe said humorlessly, but something in his senses shifted like he was masking a laugh.

Before she could speak again, before she could try and grasp at more warmth, Master Plo’s voice broke over the ice, “With me, Ailani. Our companions approach.”

“Yes, Master,” Ailani replied, instantly straightening. She turned back to Wolffe, “Duty calls.”

Wolffe merely nodded in reply, but he was suddenly tense again. Ailani felt her heart drop but she turned away before it could hit the cold snow.

The files on Khorm had been somewhat sparse, the frozen planet mostly keeping itself, though Ailani had known one thing: the inhabitants had been exploited by war before. Their strength and isolation had been exploited, and their people ran dry. The Separatists were merely the newest in a long line.

The rebel leader, a Khormai named Adaroo, stood towards the front of the group, with a few more Khormains trailing behind him. Their mechanical snowsuits creaked and whistled like the wind, puffing steam from an exhaust port in the back, and suddenly, Ailani knew any attempt at stealth was now out of the plan.

Not that their walker was exactly subtle, either.

In the mission summary, Ailani had read something about Adaroo being a former lord, and the way he towered now, strength and courage written in his face, she could believe it.

He growled, a low, deep sound, “We thought you Jedi had decided not to come.” His statement finished with a soft clicking sound, and Ailani found she was unsure if they were being scolded or if he merely possessed a regional accent. The former was earned anyway.

“Our landing was delayed by the storm,” Plo said simply. If he felt scolded, he did not show it. “Who is commanding the forces of the enemy?”

“Shamefully, one of our own.” Adaroo said, shaking his head, “An ambitious warlord cast his lot with Dooku in exchange for control of all we have. Now he enslaves his own people to mine for the Separatists.”

That caught in Ailani’s heart, twisting and turning until her insides felt like jelly.

In theory, the Republic did not allow slavery, and they condemned the act. In practice, however, slavery was rampant. Outside corporations found loopholes and bent the rules, and in turn, they were allowed to do whatever they wanted. Whenever anyone questioned these operations, the Republic always cited any issues as internal matters, not government affairs, and they turned a blind eye when corporate workers were actually owned property.

They let it be even when certain senators worked with such corporations, even when certain senators had ‘assistants’ with tracking chips embedded into their skin, and even when the lower levels of Coruscant were built on the backs of slave labor.

Czerka Corporation was the biggest corporate offender of the act, and though they had lost much favor in the past few decades, that fall from grace had been prompted by rumors of money laundering, not slavery. It was vile beyond vile.

It was the way the Republic worked.

The Jedi Order had always expressed disapproval of slavery and the corporations that practiced it, but the Jedi could not make the Republic do anything. They advised and spoke, but they didn’t vote and had no seat in the Senate, so no one cared. The Jedi served the Republic, even when the Republic refused to serve them. The Jedi protected every horrible, corrupt, and evil corner of the place they called democracy. It all felt very wrong, very cruel, and very unlike what being a Jedi should mean.

Ailani found herself thinking of Wolffe again, his body filled with wires and tubes as he struggled to breathe. The Jedi had sent him out there. Sure he and Plo and the entire balloon had been willing, but… but Wolffe didn’t know any different. He had been raised for war.

The thought suddenly made Ailani very sick.

“Those who fear to lose their power are made tyrants by war.” Kit Fisto’s voice suddenly came from behind her, but before she could even note him and his interruption, Adaroo spoke again.

“All who make war are tyrants, Jedi. Even your heart I wonder for.” The commander’s tone was not cruel nor accusatory but careful, resigned, and factual. It made Ailani’s heart ache. “Do you come for us or the Agrocite? If you have come to secure the ore for your Republic, I will not judge.”

“We fight for freedom, my friend,” Master Fisto said, “What is on Khorm belongs to the Khormai.”

That was not entirely true, Ailani knew, yet now was not the time to debate morals. Her stomach was still turning.

“Just the answer I expected, Jedi! But will it prove true?” Adaroo replied, seemingly satisfied with their response, “Now come, I will show you the weaknesses in the droid lines. Let us dispense death to our tyrant.”

The way to the droid command center was a valley, trapped between walls of icy spikes and mountains. Aradoo had helped them scout ahead, yet now, as the walkers began to make their presence known with a shaking power, he and his colleagues had fallen back, leaving the first battle to the Jedi.

Ailani could not decide if it was cowardice or clever of him.

Tauht had joined them on the ground now, a newly appointed Jedi Master, who, in Ailani’s eyes, still had the attitude of a Padawan. His blond hair was uncovered despite the freezing wind, and his bright blue eyes were filled with a wild and reckless expression. Excitement perhaps? Ailani wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, she wanted it clear of her. She didn’t need some Padawan jumping ship and taking them down with him.

They’ll let anyone leave the temple these days, Ailani thought as she stared at Tauht— anyone except her.

The Separatists were mere kilometers before them, their frost-ridden machines crawling up the valley as the Republic ships creaked to meet them in the middle. It was eerily quiet.

The quiet did not last long.

Energy crackled through the air, breaking through the quiet, a blaster bolt from the Separatist side, slicing through the air with horrid grace and—and missing them entirely.

No. No, not missing. Ailani watched in horror as the icy peaks above their ships crumbled under the heat and power of Separatist fire, sending chucks of ice into their walkers.

Instantly, their lightsabers were activated, a reflex, a habit. Ailani was only seconds behind the leading Masters. But it was useless. Ice crashed into their machines, sending a sickening mechanical crunch across the valley.

“We need to—” Ailani started speaking, not quite knowing what she would say, but she was interrupted by another mechanical clang, the doors of their walkers being deployed. She watched as clone troopers poured out of the machines, their white armor lost in white snow.

Ailani opened her mouth, but Tauht said, “They don’t stand a chance!” He shouted, voice cutting through the cold, “One guess who ordered them to deploy!”

Ailani swallowed hard. She had expected a certain recklessness from Captain Ozzel; a certain type of man earned a certain type of reputation, but this rang closer to suicide. Or at least… murder .

“We must draw the enemy fire, Master Tauht!” Said Fisto, drawing the group’s attention back to the battle, pushing aside doubts or concerns. Ailani blinked away her rushing mind and tried to look within.

Be with me. Be with me.

“Troopers! Fall in behind us!” Master Plo shouted so loud his voice synthesizer crackled with effort and strain, and from the walkers flooded their troopers. “Ailani! Shield!”

“Right!” Ailani ran to the front lines before sanity could stop her, praying for the wisdom and reflexes that her training should provide. She threw her active saber in front of her, catching it again with the Force only meters away, letting the weapon spin quickly, forming a makeshift energy shield.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Blaster bolts ricocheted aimlessly off the spinning blades, most landing in the snow and rarely hitting the enemy. It was ineffective but allowed a moment to rest from manually blocking every bolt.

Plo Koon came up beside her, falling into her cover. “You will take point with me. Your cover will allow for a forward assault.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I can take point, Master,” Tauht said somewhere to Ailani’s left. Maybe his big ears had a use after all.

“Perhaps next time, young one,” Plo replied, and Ailani resisted the urge to shoot a smug look in Tauht’s direction. Appointment could buy many things, but favor was not one of them.

Ailani knew that better than anyone.

The hours passed in a blur as they pressed ever forward.

Shot after shot rang out from the Separatist machines, sending snow flying and making Ailani’s heart leap with every tremor of the ground. It was foolish or perhaps even a little morbid to have one’s heart skip with the sounds of battle, but Ailani could not help herself.

She was finally out.

She was finally useful.

Hours later, Ailani stood in the former droid command center, her clothes soaked with sweat and snow.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, keeping her cheeks flushed red and her eyes wide and alert. She must have looked insane. She didn’t care. She was finally out.

It had been much easier than they anticipated to take the base. The entire assault took less than a morning. Whoever was in charge of the Separatist front here was clearly a coward or, at the very least, a poor strategist.

Ailani grimaced. However, they had their own coward to worry about. Her eyes drifted to Ozzel as he stood over the holotable, talking with Master Plo and Master Fisto.

He had been needlessly reckless today. Deploying troops without reason, carelessly allowing friendly fire. How had he become a Captain? In what galaxy did he deserve a leadership role?

Ailani swallowed the uncomfortable feeling and redirected her attention to Wolffe, who stood beside her. He had the type of leadership Ozzel needed—the type of leadership she needed, too. He was standing so close to her, and she liked it. Though she could not make a good excuse for why.

“This is so…boring,” Ailani whispered, praying for his attention.

“Shh.” Wolffe’s helmet was off, discarded somewhere along with their heavier snow gear, and now Ailani could finally see his faint smile after her every attempt at a joke. “I’m trying to pay attention.”

He looked older than when she had seen him last, though that couldn’t have been more than a month ago. The lines in his face seemed deeper, or perhaps he was merely lost in thought. She couldn’t help staring.

“Thank you for your help out there,” Ailani breathed, ignoring his request for silence and speaking without thinking. She was still staring.

Wolffe looked at her, and for a moment, Ailani thought he was about to thank her in return, but instead, he raised a finger to his lips, “Shh.”

Ailani huffed, though she could not prevent a matching smile from crossing her lips. Her face burned.

Plo Koon broke through her distracted senses, his next words booming, “The people are thankful, though many of them remain imprisoned.”

Ailani’s stomach twisted again, and all jokes and whispers faded to ash. She had been trying not to think of that, and up until three seconds ago, she had succeeded.

“Liberation will be no easy task,” Kit continued, oblivious to Ailani’s rising illness, “With the rail jet gone and the storm rendering our support useless, we are at a disadvantage. The droids have the high ground and fortified positions. They’ll be waiting for us.”

Right. The rail. That was an easy thing to think about. Railways did not make her stomach turn with moral complexity. In the assault, the easy pathway between the mine and their current position had been lost, buried below the snow. She could focus on that problem. That was here and now.

“Attacking an enemy that prepared for a siege will result in more casualties than we can afford,” Plo replied, something like a shadow crossing over his face, “We should seek an alternative.”

Her mind was replaying fragmented shards of the early morning battle. There had been so many needless casualties, so many reckless and stupid moves. The biggest of which had been their own tanks raining fire on them.

As if on cue, Ozzel spoke, “A direct assault is our only option, Master Jedi. I understand the Jedi Code is to protect life, but the clones were created to fight—and if necessary—die.” Even as he spoke, Ozzel seemed unaware of the implication of his words, unaware of the venom he spat. Or maybe he did know. Maybe he didn’t care, “Some will be killed, and while unfortunate, we can always make more.”

Make more? The words sat like a stone in Ailani’s stomach, memories of Kamino prying at the frozen shreds of her mind. Make more. Before she could even fully process the horror of his statement, Ozzel spoke again.

“Isn’t that right, Commander 3636?”

The setting, jarring disgust that had filled Ailani at his earlier words, now turned instantly to bubbling rage, running up her throat like bile, stinging her heart and mind. Wolffe had a name. He had a name and an identity, and Wolffe spoke before shards of Ailani’s anger flew like blaster bolts.

“If you say so, sir.” His voice was calm, yet his face was set in a tense and thin line. Round features turned sharp and cold.

She must have been staring at him dumbly because he looked towards her, and his face softened, but only slightly, to reassure her. He shrugged. Resigned . Ailani’s throat was dry, but she could not argue with him, so she merely bit the inside of her cheek until it tasted like iron.

“Captain Ozzel,” Master Plo Koon began speaking again, but his voice was deadly. “Your decisions in the battle today were needlessly aggressive and revealed disregard for the lives of your men.” He was not questioning, merely stating a fact. Ailani could not see his eyes, but she could feel their sting.

Ozzel huffed, trying to stand taller, “I saved your life and acted in the interest of the Republic, general. Need I remind you that I was seared this commission by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself?”

Master Plo did not back down. He never did, “I am aware of your relationship with the Chancellor, but you will remember your place in the command structure, Captain.” The marks of a General seemed to shine brighter on Master Plo’s jacket suddenly.

“Yes, sir.”

The room fell so silent and tense that when her datapad went off, Ailani nearly jumped from her skin—an incoming transmission.

“Masters,” Ailani said, doing her best to pretend the room wasn’t about to explode from bottled tension, “We have an incoming transmission from the Admiral.”

“Patch him through the main table.”

Instantly, Admiral Wieler appeared on the central console, his blue hologram flickering in and out, “The enemy got through, and the storm has reformed to full strength. Our fighters were lost,” His expression was grim, and his features tight, “The atmospheric distortion is centered near your primary objective.”

Kit looked thoughtful as he spoke, “Which means the enemy must have some sort of climate control station near their base. Clone intelligence has reported the separatists’ attempts to acquire the technology.”

Many planets, specifically Republic planets, had adopted some form of atmospheric protection. Following the lead of Coruscant, which was entirely dependent on climate control, versions of the technology had appeared on other planets, but this? Ailani had never seen anything like this before.

Plo Koon spoke next, “And so they have. If we can find and eliminate that station, we can utilize our air support to liberate the mine and free the inhabitants being held there.”

Ailani grimaced slightly despite herself. Going back out in the cold was not exactly her idea of a good time. Maker, she was selfish.

Ozzel interrupted, “You don’t expect me to go on some wild seek-and-destroy mission?”

Instantly, Ailani felt even more guilty of her feelings. The very last person she wanted to agree with on anything was Ozzel. Throw her out in the cold again. She could be braver than this idiot.

Plo stood, shaking his head, “No, Captain. Master Fisto and myself will lead the mission.”

Ozzel visibly relaxed, though he tried to mask it. “Very good, sir. I will prepare a detachment of my best commando units to accompany you. As you know, General, we are on a schedule. Do you have an estimated time of—”

“As long as it takes.” Plo Koon said dismissively, “Master Tauht, I will leave Wolffe, Ailani, and my troops in your very capable hands. You are in command while I’m gone.”

“Wait—” Ailani tried, but her protests were quickly interrupted.

“Ailani,” Kit said, smiling and placing a hand on her shoulder, “Be good.”

And then he winked.

“Tauht was appointed last week. I have been at the Council’s side since I was sixteen. I am more than capable of being in charge.”

The weapons depot was deserted save for Ailani, Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker, so her voice echoed loudly against the empty walls. Perhaps too loudly.

“That’s like,” Boost did a mock count on his hand, “Two and a half whole years of service.”

“Oh shut up,” Ailani retorted, crossing her arms and melting into her seat, “I’m twenty-one. I’m not some stupid teenager anymore.”

They were supposed to be cataloging the remaining Separatist weapons, a busywork job assigned by Ozzel, yet as hours passed and exhaustion crept in, they had all fallen into a routine of mindless chatter as they checked their own gear and shined what pieces had been damaged in the first assault. And mindless chatter had turned into complaining. She didn’t have anyone else to rant to, not with R3 stuck aboard the command ship.

“Yeah,” Wolffe replied mindlessly, “That’s why you’re complaining to me about it.”

Ailani huffed, “You know what I meant.“

Wolffe paused, looking at her momentarily, and suddenly Ailani saw not familiarity in his eyes but a cold chill. The face of a Commander tired of being pushed by his subordinates. “Do I?”

Boost whistled a low note from behind her, and Ailani sat up straighter, suddenly defensive. “And I suppose you are not even a little frustrated about being left behind?”

Wolffe turned back to his blaster. “The General knows what he’s doing.”

“You’re telling me you think the Devil Dogs can do a better job than us? Are you serious?” She was supposed to be repairing their friendship, returning it to the place she had known before, but the anger in her chest spoke louder than her sanity, and everything about the galaxy seemed different now. Did the place from before even exist now? What was Wolffe doing?

“Their record speaks for itself.” Boost tried, picking through discarded weapons and wires. Oh sure, he was willing to pick a fight with her, but he’d suck up to Wolffe. Kiss-ass. Boost was the one who told her that the Devils were crazy.

Sinker snorted sarcastically, “That’s one way of putting it.” His words seemed to chill the room instantly. Ailani had never heard any of them speak like this or even argue. The Malevolence had changed much.

“Sinker,” Wolffe said warningly, suddenly more alert and no longer pretending to clean his blaster.

Ailani ignored him, “What is that supposed to mean?”

The whole room was silent. Clearly, Sinker was not as comfortable pushing Wolffe as Ailani was. Or maybe he wasn’t crazy. What was she doing? She was supposed to be restoring their friendship, not ruining it.

“They are effective,” Wolffe said, but his voice was thick, like he was speaking without believing.

That made Sinker snap, his tone shifting from soldier to brother, “Who are you fooling?” His tone made it clear that this was not a new argument between them, for both Commander and Captain seemed to know their parts in this play well, “They have the highest casualty rates. Higher than any other non-Jedi-led division. The highest turnover rate in the GAR.”

“Non-Jedi?” Ailani asked, redirecting Sinker’s attention to her. She shouldn’t have been taking blows for Wolffe, yet she could not stop.

What was happening? What had their friendship become? What had the galaxy become? Laughing runs around the barracks had disappeared, leaving only strained conversations in the cold.

“Casualty rates are higher in Jedi-led divisions.” Boost interrupted, “Higher danger rate, closer to the front lines.”

Her blood chilled, but she did not have long to consider it.

“Guess you don’t see the non-Jedi stats,” Wolffe said, not looking up from his blaster.

“No,” Ailani swallowed, “Guess not.”

They lapsed back into silence, strained and tense. What was she supposed to say to that? What was going on? The 104th were supposed to be different, they weren’t supposed to be tense. How was she ruining this? Why? Why couldn’t she stop?

“You get assigned to the Devil Dogs. You don’t come home.” Sinker continued after a while, silence never his strong suit, “And now our General is with them.”

Ailani opened her mouth to speak, though she wasn’t sure what to say. The room shook suddenly, and her words were cut short as pieces of the ceiling crumbled to the floor.

Booster connected the dots before Ailani could, “Looks like reinforcements came early!” He laughed, though the sound was humorless.

Instinctively, Ailani looked to Wolffe, but he was already in motion, sliding his helmet over his face, “Let’s go.”

The battle was already in full swing when the four of them had gotten outside.

Separatist walkers descended from the valley, following the same path their own machines had paved through the snow. There was something oddly unnerving about watching their own tactics from the eyes of the enemy. That position had allowed them to take the base, and watching it from the opposing eyes did not exactly fill Ailani with confidence.

“What are we looking at?” Ailani yelled, running across the yard and falling into line beside Tauht.

Blaster bolts zipped past their heads, falling into snow and base behind them. Her heart was racing again, screaming inside her chest.

“Loss of communications!” Tauht replied, his eyes scanning the communications tower. “They took out the guard.”

Ailani followed his gaze to the empty tower. “I can climb up there and–”

“No,” He said, cutting her off, his eyes blazing with ambition, “You stay here. I’ll get it.”

Then he turned to Wolffe, who was holding up a staggering and dazed-looking Captain Ozzel.

“Ozzel!” Tauht said, seemingly unaware of the Captain’s dim and oblivious gaze. “Order your men to reinforce our lines! We can hold them off! I will contact General Plo Koon.”

Ailani opened her mouth to respond to the man, but Wolffe beat her to the mark.

“Acknowledged, General!” Wolffe replied, nodding solemnly. For a moment, Ailani swore she could see through Wolffe’s helmet and catch the grim determination in his eyes, “This way, Captain.”

Unceremoniously, Wolffe lifted the General and signaled Ailani to grab his other arm.

“Can’t we just leave him?” Ailani asked, even as she moved to help. The Captain was heavy and sluggish, not even attempting to ease their burden and walk on his own legs. Ailani had half a mind to drop him. But she didn’t, for Wolffe did not even laugh at her attempt at humor.

Something had shifted in the armory. Something Ailani could not name nor place, but whatever it had been, it had robbed Wolffe of all amusement and left her with a sinking feeling that she should not test how far he could break. He was different. Everything was different. Reluctantly, she dragged the Captain along, helping place him behind a makeshift shelter of bags and barrels.

“What do we do—” Ailani’s question was cut short by a ringing in her head, a sharp and delirious sound, yanking at the corners of her mind. The galaxy blurred for a moment. But only a moment.

The Force buzzed.

“Are you awake?” Wolffe said, snapping Ailani back to reality. He was looking at her, his helmet unreadable.

Awake? How did he know about that? She must have looked shocked, or at least, her expression had become twisted because Wolffe suddenly stood taller, stiffer like he had been caught in a lie. The air shifted, and Ailani did not care for the fright of her mind nor the ringing in her ears. Why had he said that? Had Master Plo been talking about her? About her…dreaming? What did Wolffe know about her now? How was he looking at her now?

“How did you—” Again, she was cut short, but this time, her mind played no role, for from behind her, the communications tower burst into fire and flame and scrap metal. Ailani faced the fury but couldn’t even gasp, the orange lighting in her eyes and the blast blossoming a painful warmth against her face. She flinched. Wolffe did not.

From behind her, the Captain began to whimper pathetically, “Our commutations!”

Ailani’s eyes adjusted away from the blaze and caught a small figure in the distance leaping nimbly from flaming shards that were once their communication tower.

The figure was thin with undeniable agility and effortless movements, with the implication of endless power behind its muscles. They were clothed like an acrobat, thin and tight material covering their lean body. But, the most shocking thing about the figure was the two red lightsabers caught between its hands.

“A Sith Lord.” Ailani breathed, her eyes wide. Maybe Wolffe was right, maybe she wasn’t awake. This couldn’t possibly be real. Had Dooku taken on a new apprentice?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ailani saw a report from Master Kenobi. Something about a Sith assassin or perhaps… What had he said? What was that word he had used? In the bitter cold, Ailani could not remember.

“What is that?” Wolffe was beside her, his voice strange and curious.

Ailani activated her blade. “I’m about to find out.”

But as always, she was a second too late and always too slow. Tauht also found their opponent, but he was closer and already on the flaming tower. The boy’s blue blade was ignited in an instant, and he was locked in combat with the Sith.

Ailani ran, but even as she did, something pulled at the back of her mind, telling her she was running in vain. The clash of sabers was beyond her reach, the combat too far away. The snow pulled at her boots and slowed her movements. She wasn’t going to make it. She knew she wasn’t going to make it.

She was right. For Ailani was still twenty meters away when the Sith forced its lightsaber into Tauht’s gut. She couldn’t yell, she couldn’t scream. She couldn’t do anything but stare aimlessly as Tauht’s body fell from the tower and landed unceremoniously in the snow before her.

His eyes were open, staring at her in shock and horror. His chest was open as well. Insides exposed and organs leaking.

She was frozen.

Wolffe was beside her, though Ailani had never heard his approach, “Ailani, we need to fall back.” His voice was almost unintelligible to her ringing and strained ears, but he was insistent, shaking her arm.

“I wanted to go up there.” Ailani breathed, staring into Tauht’s eyes and finding nothing else to say. “I was supposed to go up there.”

“We need to fall back.” Wolffe didn’t wait for an answer this time, clearly writing her off as a lost cause as he pulled harshly on her arm and dragged her unresponsive form back to their makeshift shelter. His grip was bruising.

Ailani fell into the snow behind their barricade, her socks wet and the fur on her hood soaked. Everything felt so cold as images of Tauht’s empty stomach burned in the snow replayed over and over in her mind. The inside of him had been burnt into a sickly shade of maroon, his organs scorched with the heat of kyber. Had the bounty hunter she killed looked like that, too? All maimed and flames within.

Ailani had insulted Tauht. She had spoken badly of him and doubted him, and she had been so petty and pathetic and…

Now, he was dead. The thought made Ailani feel so empty it burned.

The snow beside her crunched softly as Wolffe leaned down to speak with her, “Ozzel wants to push forward.”

Ailani blinked, “What?”

Push forward? Tauht had just died. They had left him there in the snow. They couldn’t just…

“We have to get on the walkers. Come on.” Again, Wolffe refused to wait for an answer, pulling Ailani to her feet and dragging her along.

In the back of her mind, Ailani knew that this was his job. He was the leader, the Commander. He was supposed to soothe cadets and give them just enough strength to march back to their deaths.

Tauht’s organs burned in the snow.

Ailani freed her arm, standing stubbornly, “Our orders were to stay here. That’s what Master Plo said. Stay here.”

Wolffe shook his head, and for a moment, Ailani could not tell if he was trying to convince her or convince himself, “Ozzel’s in charge. It’s his call.”

Ozzel’s in charge. Tauht is dead, and Ozzel was in charge. Ozzel, who killed a third of their troops in the first battle. Ozzel who looked at Wolffe and saw numbers instead of a name. Ozzel, who hadn’t even acknowledged that Ailani existed yet.

“You outrank him.” Ailani tried but knew it was no use.

“Not right now.”

Ailani let herself study Wolffe’s snow-covered helmet for a moment, tracing the lines of paint and the dents that came with battle.

He should have been in charge. But he wasn’t a Marshal Commander anymore, and apparently no one present remembered that even a standard commander outranked a captain. A worse thought dawned on her. Maybe no one present saw the value in a clone commander.

Without another word, Ailani followed Wolffe into the AT-ET.

The space was crammed with bodies, and suddenly, the heat of their breath made the weight of Ailani’s snow gear almost unbearable. They were overloaded. Not that Ozzel would notice or even care.

Wolffe should have been in charge. If she were not so useless and stupid, Ailani would have had the rank and experience to back him up and fight for his position. But she was useless. She was stupid. No one would listen to her anyway, and Wolffe’s short words had told her to shut up and follow orders. And she still valued his opinion, even if it felt wrong.

On Ozzel’s orders, their walkers marched unceremoniously up the valley. The machines sank into the snow and lumbering. Every motion rocked the inside of Ailani’s stomach, only increasing the nausea that had begun when she saw Tauht’s corpse and his burnt organs sprawled across the snow.

They had left him behind. They had left him there alone in the snow. And for what? The enemy was already retreating. They didn’t need to—

The Force tugged at Ailani’s mind. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The buzzing in her head was back, the overwhelming ringing in her ears and—

“Spider droids!” Ailani screamed, the message from the Force suddenly clear. She tried to push through the group to look out the windows, but her words were too late, as always.

From the mountain’s base of the snow-laden valley, metal machines had arisen from the snow on all sides. The mechanical spiders spawned from their hiding place and instantly opened fire.

A second too late.

Ailani was looking back towards Wolffe when the jolting impact hit the vehicle, and she was sent flying into the rear wall, her head slamming into a metal frame. The effect was a blast of white-hot fire, spreading throughout her body like a blazing and reckless flame that sent the whole galaxy into a glow of bright white light. It felt like her muscles were being set aflame, the skin and bone burning along with it.

For a moment, the searing heat consumed Ailani, reducing all her senses to ash and toil, yet within a flash, within a second, within a moment, all feeling was gone, all feeling was nothing, and she was left with a hollow ache of numbness. Ailani’s mind went blank, and she fell into darkness.

“Ailani.”

Ailani Réillata was dreaming, her mind distant and dark, the world hazy and far beyond her. She was walking without full consciousness, her mind reeling.

“Ailani.”

There was a sort of weightlessness alongside her dreaming mind, a warm, drifting sort of feeling. It was unlike any dream she had dreamed before. It was soft, and yet…

“Ailani.”

She vaguely registered what was going on, the dizziness and pain too close, the burning of her chest too bright. Someone was yelling, or perhaps, merely speaking, but her head throbbed so much that even a whisper would cause alarm.

“Ailani.”

A warm hand pressed against her face, and there was a gentle shake of her shoulder, pulling her closer to consciousness.

“Ailani, you have to wake up.”

Wolffe.

It was Wolffe.

Ailani’s eyes shot open, and suddenly, all haze and comfort was gone, as frost and ache and agony filled her lungs. She began coughing loudly, gasping for air as the sensation returned to her. Her eyes burned white hot, flashes of light and reflections of the snow seeming almost blinding as she awoke. It was all so bright and frozen, and her head spun and—

And then she vomited.

Bile and blood fell into the white snow at her feet, staining the ground and making her tremble. The action burned at her throat and made her eyes sting, and a childish part of her wanted to begin to cry, but the voice that had awoken her—Wolffe’s was suddenly back in her ears.

“Come on.” His words were softer than she had ever heard, and his gloved hand brushed sticky hair away from her face. “Wake up.”

“What’s—” Ailani tried to speak, blinking rapidly, but it only made her throat burn more, the words ripping precious air from her lungs and replacing it with frozen fear. For a moment, she thought she might vomit again, but she managed to swallow the sting.

The world was beginning to return to her, blinding reflections fading as she tried to focus on Wolffe. He was kneeling before her, one hand on her face, lightly directing her head, pulling her eyes to him, and trying to pull her back to full consciousness. Out of the corner of her blurry eyes, Ailani saw blood on his glove, touching her face.

Was that her blood?

Wolffe’s helmet was off, and he was staring at her with eyes that looked beyond her yet desperately into her soul. He pulled away the second she made eye contact, seemingly satisfied by her awakening.

“I don’t have time to explain everything. We have minutes.” He said, suddenly focused on something just to her left, just out of her eye line, “The Captain is surrendering. We’re overrun.”

Ailani tried to follow his movements, but even attempting to sit upright made her dizzy enough to vomit again, so she stayed still, her eyes scanning the surroundings. She was still in the walker, but now the machine seemed to be lying on its side. Large gashes tore at the walls and ceiling, letting snow pour in and fill the space, “What—”

“The Captain doesn’t know you survived.” Wolffe spat out the words with an emotion she was too delirious to name, and suddenly, he was looking at her again, a jacket in his hands, “Neither do the enemy.”

His words were hard to process, and Ailani stared at him and the jacket dumbly for a moment.

No. Not a jacket. He wasn’t holding a jacket he was…A clone snowsuit. He was holding an empty clone snowsuit. Empty?

Ailani sat up, suddenly hyper-aware as she pushed down a tidal wave of nausea that threatened to consume her. Despite her blurry eyes, it became suddenly clear what Wolffe had been fiddling with. For there was a body beside them, half buried in the snow, staring at her with eyes that matched Wolffe’s. There was a dead clone trooper at her feet.

Wolffe was holding his jacket.

“No.” Something like horror was building in her chest, tight and aching. She was going to throw up again.

“Ailani.” Wolffe was trying to shove the jacket into her arms, ignoring her protests, and trying to turn her face away from the corpse.

She wouldn’t let him. She kept staring at those deep brown eyes, “No, no, I will not hide and—”

“You are wounded!” Wolffe’s words came out sharply, and Ailani froze, suddenly feeling the blood leak down her face. “Comet and the Captain are surrendering as we speak. We have seconds. We are in no condition to face the enemy. You are in no condition to face the enemy. I can’t even find your lightsaber!”

Emotion flashed in Ailani, fogged and dizzy from the fall but still powerful and aching. Her lightsaber was gone? In the back of her mind, Ailani saw her Father’s face, disappointment evident, and his features slowly faded from view. She had lost his last gift. She had lost her last connection to—

“So, survive.” Wolffe’s words cut through Ailani’s hazy memory, and handed her the clone gear. The armor shook in his hand, and Ailani knew Wolffe was not trembling from the cold.

How many had died here? How many troopers were buried in the snow so well that Ailani could not see their corpses? The broken metal of their walker suddenly felt eerily similar to the creaking metal of an escape pod Ailani had dreamed of mere months ago.

Wolffe’s hand was still shaking.

Ailani took the jacket.

“Okay.” She said dumbly.

“Okay.” He responded, letting out a strange and strangled breath.“Okay.”

Wolffe returned to work instantly, turning from her and removing other pieces of clothing for her, “Wear it over your jacket,” He said dismissively as he began shoving Ailani’s old gloves into the soles of the too-big clone boots. “You’re too small.”

“I’ll still be too short,” Ailani said, but she pulled her arms through the sleeves anyway, “They’ll know.”

Wolffe shook his head, but it did not seem directed at her. “It’ll work. Just kneel over like you’re injured. No one will even look twice.” He was speaking factually, almost uninterested, but something in his voice trembled.

“Okay,” Ailani said again, still not certain. Now seemed like a bad time to argue.

Within moments, Ailani had managed to fit the gear over her clothes. It still looked big, even with the added padding of her original jacket beneath, and it was much heavier than she had expected. The sleeves were too long, the gear too wide, all wrong. Everything was wrong.

The dead brown eyes kept staring at her. Had the bounty hunter she killed on Naboo looked like that too? Empty. Ailani wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

“This is not going to work,” Ailani said, her tone trapped between unsteady breaths and carefully chosen words. She felt caught, like a wild animal in a trap.

Wolffe turned to face her, the snow helmet in his hands. Behind him, the half-buried corpse of his brother faded entirely into the snow.

Ailani tried to stare past it. She couldn’t.

“No one will look at you twice,” Wolffe said. There was tension in his voice as if he were attempting to convince himself. “Just lean on me like you’re injured.”

Ailani nodded dumbly, wordlessly. What was she supposed to say? What does one say when wearing a dead man’s clothes? Briefly, momentarily, Ailani wished that she had died and the clone had lived.

Clone.

His death was about to save her, and Ailani did not even know his name. The hollow look in Wolffe’s sense said he did not know it either.

Then, with gloved hands, slowly, carefully, painfully delicately, with the same hands that had buried someone moments earlier, Wolffe slid the helmet over Ailani’s face, securing it into place. It was as if she were being buried too, below layers of clothing that did not belong to her, below layers of life that should have been someone else’s, below, below, below. She did not move.

There was nothing but the cold calculations of a broken viewfinder and endless isolation as the helmet became a reality and the identity of a corpse overshadowed the identity of a Jedi.

All Ailani could see was the orange glow of the holocron in her mind, replaying one prophecy over and over.

For your sins, you must be sacrificed.

“Captain, my droids have searched the facility and found no sign of the other Jedi. Where are they.”

Ailani Réillata did not remember surrendering. She did not remember the walk to the factory. She did not remember being forced to the ground. And she did not remember crumbling to a heap. Yet, here she was, weakly trembling on her knees on the floor of the mining factory.

Her vision had gotten substantially worse in the past few hours, the brightness of the snow and the blurry lines of the helmet not helping the blood loss that slowly drained her mind. She couldn’t wipe the sticky red away from her face with the helmet on, so the liquid had slowly dripped down her face until she had started feeling the warmth cover her right eye and trickle down her lips. She kept having to blink away her own blood. It was harder and harder to see anything besides the deep red. The Force tried to make up for her fading senses, but it was hard to focus on that, too.

Ailani knew that they were being held prisoner and they were being questioned, but none of it really made any sense. She only saw vague shapes. A large booming blur that must have been the Khormai dictator and a thin blur with two glowing blades. The Sith Lord who had killed Tauht.

“As an officer of the Grand Army of the Republic, I am not obliged to cooperate.” Ozzel was speaking, his voice muffled in Ailani’s ears, “Taking into account the Convention of Civilized Systems—”

Despite the haze, Ailani’s sense could still register the hum of an unnatural crackle as a line of red sliced through the air, the electricity cutting Ozzel’s protests short. Ailani did not even have the energy to flinch as a body collapsed beside her.

The Sith had killed the clone beside her. Ailani could not find the strength to be afraid.

What was that word Master Kenobi had used to describe this being? It sat on the tip of Ailani’s tongue but got lost in her blood.

The thin, blurry Sith spoke, “Where are the Jedi.” Their voice was hoarse, menacing. Dizzying. Ailani suddenly felt like she was drowning. Jedi. Jedi. Jedi. The label burned in Ailani’s eyes, though that may have been the leaking blood.

“They-they went on a mission!” Ozzel stammered, and Ailani felt her mind sink deeper into the waves. She was going to die. Ozzel was going to tell. And she was going to die.

She already felt half dead.

The Sith swung their sword again, and another body fell, crashing to the floor unceremoniously.“What mission?”

Witch. That was the word Master Kenobi had used in his report. He had called this Sith Lord a witch. What a funny word.

“I protest!” Ozzel sounded frantic, but Ailani could not even turn to face him. She was frozen in her own blood, “This interrogation breaks all laws of civilized conflict! You cannot allow this!”

A clicking sound filled their air, and to her delirious ears, it almost sounded like a laugh, “You are welcome to file an official protest…if you survive.”

Ailani wasn’t afraid of death, but she was afraid of pain. She wouldn’t be able to survive any more pain.

“You are running out of expendables, Major.” The crackling voice of the Sith said. The voice was much closer than it had been before. Much, much closer.

Glowing red filled Ailani’s vision, and it all clicked. A lightsaber. It was the Sith Lord’s lightsaber. The Sith said something else, but all words and all things became background noise to blinding red light. Was she about to be burned like Ozzel? Melted from the inside out?

Despite the red of her blood and the red of the lightsaber, Ailani’s eyes managed to find Wolffe in the dim light. She wasn’t even looking for him or searching, yet he was the only figure she could truly make out in the room. He was looking back at her, and for a brief moment, Ailani swore that they could fully see each other. No masks, no lightsabers, and no blood. Just them.

Wolffe. He should have been the leader. He should have—

“Don’t tell her,” Wolffe said, his words directed at Captain Ozzel.

It was as if the universe collapsed. Emotion flashed through Ailani, too fast to process, too quick to name. He was still staring at her. Unmoving. He was going to let her die.

The lives of the other Jedi were at risk, and somewhere in the part of her mind that wasn’t concussed, Ailani knew this was the right thing to do. She knew it was the selfless thing to do. Die silently. But as she stared at Wolffe’s helmet and felt memories bubble in her chest, memories of warmth and friendship and something else too new to name, his words suddenly felt like a betrayal.

She was about to die. And Wolffe was the only one who knew. Everyone else would assume she perished in the snow. Per regulation, they would look for her body in the cold amongst the disabled walker, but she would not be there. She was going to be trapped in this room, in this clone armor, for all eternity.

She was going to die here.

Would Wolffe even tell anyone? Or would he pretend? Would he be too ashamed or perhaps too hidden to say he had let her die in secret? Was she about to die alone? It suddenly concerned Ailani that she was not sure.

For your sins, you must be sacrificed.

Despite Wolffe’s orders, the Captain crumbled, “The— the mountains! The Jedi have gone after your climate-control station!”

The Witch slipped away from Ailani, only slightly, still close enough to kill, “Thank you.” She said, faking a smile and sickly sweet tone, “In gratitude, I grant all of your requests for a quick death.”

Ailani held her breath.

Before the Sith could swing, the leader grabbed her arm firmly, “Hold your blade, assassin! Prisoners do have their uses. Take them away!”

The Sith made a strangled, growling sort of sound, but she hesitated, relenting to the man. The droids also obeyed him, prompting Ailani to stand on unbalanced legs.

“Clone prisoners are a waste of the resources it takes to guard them.” The Sith said, “You have much to learn about the Separatist way of war, Warlord.”

As they were led away, Ailani heard the echo of reply. “It is you who have much to learn about the Khormai. We do not kill beings who might be useful as slaves…or as food for slaves.”

Their voices disappeared down the hallway, their words disinterested and light as if they were discussing the weather.

No one commented on how short she was. No one even noticed.

Ailani could still see the red blade.

Their cell was round, almost like a large silo, echoing and tall.

Ailani had melted into the wall furthest away from the door, her body refusing to stay alert any longer. She had lost so much blood, and tension had broken and given away to exhaustion. In her mind, she could still see the red glow of the lightsaber, and with her eyes, Ailani could make out little besides the deep color of her own blood. She felt like she was choking on endless scarlet hazes and drowning in the layers of warmth and armor. She could feel the pounding in her chest, even as she sat still in the cell.

The second they were alone, the second it was clear they would be left here to die, Ailani l had wanted to take the helmet off, had wanted to drown out the red and the brown dead eyes that followed the gear, but Wolffe had merely given her a stern look, one that simply said: “play dead.”

She wanted to listen. She tried to be good, but… was the clone armor getting warmer, or did it just feel that way? Suffocating and red. Everything was suffocating and red.

The others were working on the door, fiddling with the door's wires and speaking in low tones. No one even looked in her direction.

The suit got warmer. The red got brighter. Her vision faded in and out. She was choking on blood. The suit seemed to close in around her. She didn’t move.

Wolffe had given her life and secrecy with this snow gear, and yet now he seemed content to let her die by a Sith blade or choke on blood. Her head hurt so much.

No one looked in her direction.

Another hour passed, or perhaps it was only minutes before Ailani’s pain and dizziness became unbearable. She needed to patch up her head. She didn’t want to bleed out.

Not like this.

Without looking to Wolffe for permission or guidance, Ailani weakly reached a hand underneath the layers of her helmet. The thick gloves made movement hard, as did the limited strength she now possessed. It felt like an eternity before she found the strength to lift the clunky gear from her head, freeing her mind and soul from the endless red and makeshift funeral shroud.

The hot, humid air of the cell choked in Ailani’s throat, forcing gasps from her as she breathed through blood and sweat. She was blinking rapidly as she struggled to take in air, wiping the blood from her face with the pristine white sleeves of the clone trooper’s jacket. When would she ever be free of all this red? Red from Naboo, red from Tahut, the red of a lightsaber, red, red, red.

After most of the liquid was wiped away, Ailani’s vision slowly returned, but the wooziness of blood loss still haunted the alertness of her mind. Yet one thing was certain: the room was dead silent. Slowly, Ailani raised her eyes from the floor and met the faces that stared at her. How did she look to them? Ravaged and covered in blood. Windswept hair and frantic eyes. She must have looked horrifying.

At least, that is what everyone’s faces said.

After a long look, Wolffe returned to the wiring on the door, suddenly more interested in telling it what to do. The clone to his left—someone Ailani was unfamiliar with, stared at her in complete and utter shock. Sinker’s face was unreadable.

He must have known it was her. He must have known she was too short to be an actual clone. He would have noticed. He must have known. Perhaps knowing and hoping were two different things. Ailani’s mind flickered back to the man, the soldier, the brother Wolffe had buried in the snow. His dark, dead eyes were staring at her. She was staring back. She still did not know his name. Perhaps Sinker did.

Something about his hollow eyes and unknown mind concerned Ailani more than the screech that immediately followed.

“You!” The General pointed at her with an accusatory and trembling finger, “You died!”

“There’s certainly enough blood here,” Ailani mumbled, trying to shake off some of the tension in the room. She stumbled to her feet, prying off the blood-stained jacket. Her head spun.

“You can free us from this cell!” Ozzel’s high-pitched screaming only increased Ailani’s headache, and it took everything in her to remain calm.

“I am a Jedi, not a miracle worker.” She said quietly. Someone here must have had a stimulant tablet or something. She needed a distraction and a boost.

Sinker was not looking at her anymore.

“Your lightsaber can cut through the—”

“I do not even have my lightsaber,” Ailani cut the Captain off, raising a shaky hand. Her voice was too loud, too unsteady. “Besides, even if I did. That would make too much noise. There is value in silence. That is a lesson both you and I could learn.”

Wolffe was mumbling something to Comet as Ailani stumbled to him. He seemed to tense at her presence. Ailani ignored it. She needed a stimulant tablet.

“I had no choice. I had to tell her about the Jedi.” The Captain mumbled after her, running in blubbering excuses.

Wolffe huffed quietly but spoke before Ailani could retort, “You should have kept your mouth shut.” He paused for a while, letting the words hang in the air, “Sir.”

Ailani stared at him, caught somewhere between dumbfounded and dizzy and uncontrollably angry. Ozzel should have kept his mouth shut? Wolffe had some nerve telling others to shut up after he had stared her in the face and practically asked her to die.

The Captain spoke again before Ailani could sink into rage, “I did it to save your lives, you ungrateful—”

Wolffe huffed, slamming the control panel shut, “No. You did it to save your life. Now, thanks to you, the Generals and our brothers are in greater danger. If their mission fails, this entire campaign was for nothing.”

Some of Ailani’s rage dissipated, but it did not leave her. How much was the greater good worth? She had always imagined that she would die to tip the scales, in turn, some cosmic game, had always imagined herself as a title rather than a person, an idea, an Acolyte, a sacrifice, a…

Sometimes, she dreamed that she would at least be a martyr. But when it had boiled down to it, when she had stared into Wolffe’s eyes and when he had stared at her unflinching, when he had spoken and… It had felt different then. It hadn’t felt like facing death. It had felt like facing betrayal .

Wolffe said something else, pulling Ailani from her haze. “We’re getting out of here, let’s move.”

Something about that made her stomach twist. We’re all getting out of here. But she almost hadn’t.

“We’ll scout,” Wolffe said, and he looked back to Ailani, sliding his helmet over his features. “I want you ten paces behind me.”

She nodded, but he only glared at her in reply. She had broken some invisible string and been pushed across some hidden line in the snow, and every word that she spoke only seemed to push the boundaries between them more and more, much to his annoyance.

He had put her in that snowsuit. He had dragged her from the snow. He had risked time to save her, and she had thought they were friends . She had felt that their moment alone in the snow with shaking hands and desperate words had sealed that. She had thought they had become… she had thought his efforts meant he cared.

Yet now, the second she had been hidden, the second he had buried her in layers of warfare, he had seemed to change his mind, willing to let her die by a red blade and resenting every breath she had taken once she lived.

Ailani relented, “Yes, sir.”

Ailani floated through their escape.

Even after Comet—the clone she hadn’t known before, had given her a stimulant tablet, the dizziness didn’t entirely stop. It was hard to tell if she still felt dizzy from the physical strain or from the mental pull around her. Comet chatted with her absentmindedly, helping her stay upright as the vehicle swayed back and forth. He was nice enough, trying to keep her awake and speaking softly and cracking jokes. He must have been new. Shiny.

Because he didn’t pick up on the tension everyone else directed at her.

Wolffe wouldn’t look at her. Sinker ignored her. Even after they freed Boost and the remaining Devil Dogs from an adjoining cell, hardly anyone would meet her eyes.

She had done something horribly wrong by wearing that snow gear. Even after she had peeled it off, the weight of it hung over her head. She had stolen the final resting place of one of their brothers. She had taken that. She was horrible for surviving. Why had Wolffe let her survive? It would have been better if she died in the snow. Even he seemed to know that now. She was useless. Without her lightsaber…

Oh, Maker, her lightsaber. The memory of the weapon was more than she could take. It was her Father’s final gift, the only item he had sent with her when she moved to the temple. Fragments of a lightsaber crafted with beskar and Nabboian gold. And she had lost it. She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve the craftsmanship of her Father. She didn’t deserve the respect of her heritage.

Why did she think this was possible? Why did she think that she was capable of this? She was stupid and dull and her body couldn’t take anything. She was useless.

She had let everyone down, and worst of all, she had let herself down.

Useless. Useless. Useless.

It was impossible to tell how long it took them to return to base. The vehicle they had stolen in the escape rocked harshly with every moment, and Ozzel refused to stop shouting. Time blurred, and Ailani merely held herself tight, arms wrapped around her legs as she sank into her thoughts.

By the time she stepped from the tank, Ailani had allowed herself to entirely turn mechanical in her grief. Everything was so hazy and distant. She was so cold.

“Welcome back, Captain. We thought you were dead!” The clone sergeant who had stayed behind greeted them warmly, though his words were morbid.

Part of Ailani had thought they were dead, too.

Ozzel dusted himself off as if he had single-handedly freed them, “Ready the ship for liftoff. I want to rendezvous with the fleet in orbit, resupply, and launch an immediate counterattack.”

“Leave?” Ailani echoed, too confused to form a full thought. Was he just going to leave them down here?

Beside her, Comet’s eyes blazed, confusion and exhaustion and hurt flashing across his face. He had been so kind to her during their escape; so funny and at ease, trying to sooth her head wound. To see that all fall away so instantly was jarring, and it only made the pain in her head worse. For a moment, Ailani thought Comet might say something, but Wolffe held out a hand, silencing all thoughts.

“Sir, shouldn’t we attempt to contact the Jedi?” How was he so calm? The ease in Wolffe’s voice was often comforting to her, especially in unsteady situations, but right now, soaked in her own blood and forced to live because of his whims, Ailani found herself annoyed with his easy words. Comet looked resigned. The dried blood on her face cracked in the cold air.

“The Jedi are dead, Commander Wolffe!” The Captain shouted, the vibration of his voice shaking Ailani’s bones, “You can join me in winning this battle or mourn the dead and the end of your career. Now help get these transports off this frozen rock!”

It was too much to take. “The other Jedi aren’t dead!” Ailani shouted, her voice breaking. The world was spinning, “How could you even say that!”

They weren’t dead. They couldn’t be dead. Tauht had already died, and so many clones and the boy with brown eyes in the snow and all of it was already too much and too many. Ailani wouldn’t let anyone else die unless it was her. No one here deserved to die but her.

Ozzel completely ignored Ailani’s shouts, turning away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Wolffe followed after the Captain, trying to argue, but Ailani couldn’t hear. Rage bubbled in her chest. Pure, uncontrolled rage. How dare he. How dare he keep dragging them all to death and—

An explosion rocked the ground, and snow fell from the cliffs. Swiftly turning back to the valley, Ailanj watched as Separatist forces approached. Again.

“The enemy followed us back!” Ailani yelled, but her words were instantly lost in the shouts of others.

“Where’s our heavy armor?” Ozzel cried. His face had grown pale, and his eyes wide. Pathetic.

“You let it get—” Ailani started, but Wolffe interrupted. Again. Again. Again. Again. Was no one in the galaxy listening to her anymore?

“Destroyed in the first offensive, sir.”

The Captain's face paled even further until he matched the snow around them, “I don’t…what do we do?”

Ailani wanted to leap forward and hit the man, scream at him, and cry and sob and scream and scream and scream. None of this was right. None of this was how it was supposed to be. How dare he be so ignorant. How dare he care so little.

Despite the storm in her chest and the anger and the fear, Ailani looked to Wolffe, “Commander?”

He scanned the battlefield momentarily, then his senses steadied, “Fall back to the transports. Ailani and I will cover you. Comet, take the Captain.”

Ozzel wasted no time and turned on his heels to run away, Comet right on his heels.

“What am I supposed to do?” Ailani said, “My lightsaber is gone, and I can barely use a blaster.”

She was useless. He must know that now. His bitterness must have spawned from her inability. She was just another body to drag around. Useless.

Wolffe watched her for a moment, picking apart her face. Then he pulled something from his side pocket, silver and gold and glimmering in the snow’s reflection.

The blood drained from Ailani’s face as she reached for the weapon, “My lightsaber….but you said…” Ailani trailed off, turning the cool metal in her hands. Her fingers felt frozen. Blood dripped in her eyes.

“I know what I said,” Wolffe answered, voice cold again. He was playing Commander, not friend. Had he been this cold before, this clinical? When had his steadiness turned into ice? How had she just never noticed before?

“Did you have this the whole time?” Ailani asked, her voice no better than a whisper. Did she even want to know the answer to that question?

“Not every fight is worth the risk.”

“You lied to me.” The words felt like venom in her mouth, bitter and stinging like bile, eating away at her throat and twisting in her stomach.

Wolffe remained unrelenting, unfazed, unmoving. No apology came from his mask. Rather, only an order fell from the crackling of his voice modulator, “Shield.”

Shield . The order burned. How dare he. How dare he. The kyber of her lightsaber hummed underneath the layers of metal and wire. The hilt had once felt cold in the frozen air, but as the anger boiled, Ailani could feel the life of her weapon grow hot.

How dare he.

Ailani activated her blade without taking her eyes off of him. The golden glow illuminated their faces for a moment, just as the Sith Lord’s lightsaber had mere hours ago.

Ailani threw her lightsaber before her, the spinning light catching in mid-air.

And the battle raged.

How long had she been on Khorm? Hours? Days? Years?

Ailani’s muscles ached, her lungs burned, and even the cut on her eyebrow had begun bleeding again from the strain of battle. It was hard enough to hold back hoards of droids, but the task slowly became impossible as her body began to still. The stimulant was wearing off.

Wolffe had not even halted, firing blast after blast with deadly perfect precision. It only made Ailani more angry with him.

Heat exploded from behind them, and in a flash of sparks and flame, the Separatist tank hand found its mark, and their vehicle had been reduced to ash. Shrapnel rained from the sky, sending chunks of hot metal into the endless snow with a horrible sizzling sound.

“There goes our exit,” Ailani murmured, looking to Wolffe. His sense was unshaken, as if indifferent to the burning heat surrounding them.

“We only need to hold out for a little longer,” He replied, not even breathless, “The General will follow through.”

Ailani nodded, though she did not fully believe him. They weren’t even sure if anyone else was still alive. If that Sith Lord was still out there, who knows what costs she had demanded.

But Wolffe didn’t need to hear that, and so Ailani said nothing.

The Force ached in her arms, her lightsaber switching between a shield and a swinging spear. It would have been easier to simply hold the weapon and attack the Separatist forces up close. If only her body were not so weak. If only she were not so weak.

Why had she ever thought she was good enough for this? How had she even tricked herself into believing she was a skilled enough warrior? She was pathetic at best, with blood-stained cheeks and slowly failing limbs. She didn’t deserve to live through that first crash. The nameless trooper she had doomed would have been better. He should have lived. He should have—

Sunlight broke across Ailani’s face, blossoming warmth on the dried blood. In shock, she looked up at the sky and watched the artificial storm ease up and finally fade away.

The storm had finally broken.

Relief flooded Ailani as the realization struck her. If the storm broke, that meant Master Plo and Master Fisto were not only alive, but they were successful. They were fine. They had held up their end of the mission, and she had endured long enough to hold up her end, too. Ailani wanted to cry out and cheer, but the ground shook and drew her attention back to the battle.

The Witch was still climbing up the mountain, keeping them cornered with her large mechanical machines. Right. Right.

Ailani set her jaw and braced herself for another battle. She had never fought a Sith Lord before. Her palms were sweaty. The red was back in her eyes and mind. The red of the lightsaber, the hum of the—

No. No, that wasn’t in her mind.

Red light exploded across the approaching enemies. Flashing flames engulfed their tanks and weapons. Above, Republic reinforcements had arrived, the fighter ships whizzing and whirling overhead.

Ailani switched off almost instantly. She collapsed into the snow, breathing heavily and sweating through her clothes, her hand trembling on her lightsaber. She couldn’t see straight anymore, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe. Everything was too much. She was too tired, too—

“At least someone around here knows how to fight.” Ozzel’s voice cut through the noise in Ailani’s head and called her attention, “I’d say my plan worked flawlessly, Commander. Relay my congratulations to the Jedi if they’re still alive.”

Ailani was too tired to argue with him, too exhausted to even feel offended by his quip. She could kill him later. She wanted to rest now. In resignation, she fell completely into the snow, laying on her back and staring up at the bright blue sky.

Sunlight. Oh, how she had missed sunlight.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, Ailani found Sinker at her side, shaking her awake.

“You still with us?” He asked. His gaze was kinder than it had been before, and Ailani felt herself soften, too.

She nodded.

“Good,” He said, “Good.”

Sinker paused for a long while, gazing at her face and debating, “We’re shipping out again.”

“What,” Ailani sat up, her head reeling, “But we just…”

“I know,” He answered. “Listen. Wolffe doesn’t want you there, but I know we need you. So get up and let’s go.”

“Wolffe doesn��t…” The words died in her throat. He had saved her life, then left her to die, and now he was just leaving her behind? So much for being friends.

Sinker shook his head, “He’s just mad. Not at you. He’s just…mad. I know it’s not your fault.”

Not her fault. The idea twisted in her mind. Was he talking about the clone armor?

“Thank you,” Ailani said, though she wasn’t quite sure what she meant.

Ailani sat in the command chair, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs to prevent more shivers from overtaking her body.

Sinker had snuck her into the walker aboard their gunship, telling her to stay put until they reached the attack point. He would come to get her when it was time. Apparently, with the way Wolffe was acting, Sinker feared that unless they were in direct battle, Wolffe would force everyone to turn around just to send Ailani away.

The past twenty-four hours felt like a horrible blur, awful emotions crashing into each other. Wolffe had been so…he had been so friendly when they first arrived, and he had even saved her life, and now…

What was happening now? It wasn’t her fault that he had buried her in that clone suit. It wasn’t her fault that she had lived. He forced her into life. He prevented her from dying. He stole her lightsaber. That lightsaber was more than her life, more than her identity. And he had taken it.

Ailani crashed in and out of consciousness. Drifting between feelings and thoughts, never having enough energy to process anything fully.

Sinker had given her another stimulant, apparently unaware that Comet had provided one earlier. She wasn’t supposed to take more than one per day, for the drugs impacted the heart and could cause many complications, but with the way her head was throbbing, Ailani hardly cared. The relief of the drug felt good, so impossible good, and the devastation in her heart ached. What other choice did she have? She didn’t know what was going on anymore. She didn’t understand anything. She was so cold. And tired and lonely. So lonely.

It must have been a few hours before she was disturbed, the creaking metal of the walker door opening and giving away her hiding spot.

Wolffe, Sinker, Boost, Comet, and a dizzy-looking Ozzel stood before her. Ailani straightened.

“What are you doing here?” Wolffe’s voice was even colder without his helmet on. The darkness of his eyes pierced every venomous word.

Ailani swallowed hard and stood, “Helping. You know—”

Wolffe cut her off with a hand, not even giving her the dignity to face her. “You aren’t. You aren’t helping.”

Ailani suddenly felt hyper-aware of her breath and how dangerously close they seemed to an argument–in front of the group. Comet mercifully looked away. Sinker said nothing at all, leaving her alone in the cold.

“I’m trying.” Ailani said quietly, suddenly feeling like a Padawan again.

He was her only friend outside of the temple–at least she had thought they might have been friends–her only friend not privy to her past, and yet he could see through her as no one else could, and every time they spoke he managed to tie her stomach in restless knots. Sometimes, the pain of it felt sickly sweet, and sometimes, it felt like he was wringing out her insides. Is this what friendship was?

Wolffe scoffed, “Of course you are.”

The comment stung like a slap, and between the blood and ice, Ailani felt childish hurt well in her heart. She swallowed it.

Then something in his shoulders relaxed, or perhaps it was just the forced ease of defeat. The tension that releases in a last breath.

“We are preparing an assault on the mine.” Wolffe relented, still not facing her and running through startup controls. “General Fisto will clear a path for us.”

“How?” She shouldn’t have pressed, and yet it slipped anyway.

Wolffe shrugged, not seeming to mind anymore, “Didn’t say.”

And that was it. It was not abnormal for the Council, Ailani knew, but it made frustration grow in her heart.

“Help me get this prepped for landing,” Wolffe said, and though he did not face her, nor even ease, Ailani took the show of forgiveness and fell into work beside him.

Together, it only took mere moments for the walker to be ready, and before she could even blink, they were crawling up the mountainside, canons at the ready.

Sinker and Boost had already gone to their posts, watching over Ozzel as he moaned and complained about a head injury. At least Wolffe was letting Ailani drive and not babysit. If she had to be with Ozzel for any second longer, she might have smothered him.

Comet was just climbing the ladder to the canon post when Wolffe’s voice cut through the cold.

“Once this is over,” Wolffe said casually, “I want to offer you a job.”

Ailani tried not to let the surprise show on her face. It had been evident to everyone that Ozzel was completely unfit for leadership, but Ailani had just assumed that there was nothing anyone could do. Apparently, Wolffe had not been so helpless.

“A job?” Comet said, confused, his brow furrowed.

Ailani must have missed something, missed some connection between the two. What had Comet done to pull this out of Wolffe? Through the bitterness and the cold, something happened. Something Ailani missed.

“A transfer,” Wolffe clarified, still not quite looking at Comet as he mindlessly flicked controls. “I could use a corporal. My team is running thin.”

Was he admitting that he needed help? Ailani pursed her lips tightly to avoid letting her jaw drop.

“Ozzel will never—”

“If I ask, the General will make it happen.” Wolffe finally looked at the corporal, “I just need to ask.”

“Yes, sir. I would…yes. Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Wolffe said, then he turned, “Ailani?”

“Noted. I will submit the formal request once we are off this frozen rock.” She smiled. Wolffe had looked at her. He had looked directly at her. Something indeed had changed, if only she could understand what. “But if I may be so presumptuous, may I say, welcome to the 104th, Corporal.”

Comet smiled back; then he was gone, leaving Wolffe and Ailani with the controls.

“That was nice of you,” Ailani ventured, trying to sound casual. She didn’t want to push too much—just a little.

Wolffe snorted, catching a smile on his lips and a laugh in his throat, “Yeah, I’m all heart.”

After that, the silence in the walker was no longer tense. It was almost like they had returned to the beginning, all comfortable conversation and efficiency. It made her cheeks flush, and her lips twist into frequent flickering smiles.

They trudged through the snow for a while longer and watched as the mountain range fell into view. The Separatist facility atop the range was covered in large canons, no doubt built to protect the mine.

“That’s going to give us trouble,” Ailani said, staring at the glistening metal weapons. She was leaning forward in her seat, straining to look out the viewport.

“Just stay below its range,” Wolffe said, his warm breath so close to her face, “It can’t shoot around corners.”

Ailani did as instructed, holding the line and scanning every millimeter of snow before them. Wolffe didn’t pull away from her space, scanning the landscape with his warmth so close to hers. It was hard to focus.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing—

“Someone is out there!” Ailani shouted, pointing out the viewport and pulling Wolffe towards her, “Look!”

A small speck of green moved across the white snow—a lightsaber.

“General Fisto said he would clear a path,” Wolffe answered, his voice almost unbelieving. He sounded…amazed.

“Indeed he did,” Ailani answered.

They watched as the tiny speck moved across the mountain range, followed by another figure that trailed slightly behind. The Jedi and his companion jumped down the barrel of one canon, seemingly getting to the inner workings.

They stared in silence for mere minutes before the entire mountaintop burst into flames. Pink light seemed to spawn from the very heart of the mountain, sending the top of the facility shooting into the air and exploding in the sky.

Ailani’s heart dropped from her chest, and the entire ground shook. “Did you see them leave?” She cried. She was speaking too loud but couldn’t stop, “Wolffe!”

“We need to get out there.” Wolffe ignored her, gripping his helmet tighter and pulling on his gloves, “Give Comet the controls.”

“Wolffe!”

“We’ll find out when we get out there.” He said sternly, opening the emergency escape doors. Freezing wind flooded the walker, the biting cold mimicking the fear that chilled her blood.

Distressed but with no other argument on her lips, Ailani pulled away from her station and followed Wolffe back into the tundra.

The snow was even colder than she remembered, and the wind bit at her face harshly. She had long ago lost her face covering, and flecks of dried blood and skin peeled from her body as the air dried and pulled.

Master Fisto couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t have just stood by while another person died. She wouldn’t be able to take it.

Ailani and Wolffe trudged through the heavy snow, racing as fast as they could to the now crumbling mountain.

Please be alive, Ailani whispered in her mind, please, please, please—

“Ailani!” And there, running in the distance and waving his hands, there was Master Fisto. Alive and well, “It is good to see you, young one!”

Ailani laughed, the sound painful in the endless cold, “Good to be here!” She cried back, suddenly smiling. Relief crashed over her in waves.

He was alive.

“Where’s General Plo?” Wolffe asked once they met up with Master Fisto, running at an even pace towards the mine.

“Inside!” Master Fisto answered, pointing ahead, “Let’s make sure he isn’t having all of the fun!”

The entrance tunnel opened into an ample space as if the entire mountain had been hollowed out. Mining equipment lay about and above on a flimsy metal bridge; Master Plo was fighting with the Sith Lord, one of his arms wrapped in a sling.

A sling? What had happened?

In a flash, something detached from the Sith’s belt and flew into the snow a few meters away from them.

“She must not recover that remote!” Plo screamed at them.

They all moved as one, descending upon the device, lightsabers and blasters drawn. The Force was doing that thing again, the thing Ailani had only felt once before on Geonosis. It was moving around her in harmony, giving clarity and strength.

When the Sith fell into the snow beside them, Ailani found she was unafraid.

Instantly, Wolffe pulled out his blaster and fired at the device, making the mechanism go up in smoke.

The woman let out a guttural cry, so pained and rageful. Ailani didn't move.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Wolffe said, not sounding apologetic, “Was that yours?”

The woman was cornered against a wall, trapped like an animal in a trap. Despite the fear, Ailani stalked forward. This would not be like last time.

“Give it up, Ventress!” Fisto said from somewhere beside Ailani.

Ailani pointed her blade at the woman, angling it just so, just as Ventress had turned her own sword at Ailani’s head. The golden light reflected in the Witch’s eyes.

“Surrender,” Ailani said, but her words rang hollow. She did not want the Witch—Ventress to surrender. She wanted her dead. Burnt from the inside out, like Tauht and the bounty hunter and—

A fire blazed in the woman’s eyes, “Never!” She cried.

Before Ailani could blink, the witch flew into action. With tremendous power, the woman summoned the dark side and unleashed it upon them, pushing the group of Jedi away from her. For a mere moment, it felt as though Ailani’s muscle was being removed from her bones. She fell in the snow, uselessly.

Wolffe responded almost instantly, aiming his blaster and—

With her saber, the witch made a swift, clean cut, and the entire universe began to move in slow motion. Ailani watched the red blade as it slowly entered the bottom of Wolffe’s helmet and sliced upward, parting armor like it was paper thin.

And Ventress was gone.

And Wolffe was on the ground.

Ailani was up and running before her mind could even fully register the scene before her. Distantly, she heard someone scream, a horrible, choked, pathetic sound, and felt her own throat burn. She was the one screaming. But everything felt so separated from her now. Even her own body was distant from her. Alarms were sounding, blood was rushing in her ears, and the frantic sounds from her throat would not stop.

Suddenly, she was before him, falling to her knees, the snow soaking her pants and sending a wet chill through her body, yet it hardly mattered. Wolffe was lying in a heap, his helmet smoking and sizzling, the melting plastic weighing the air down with the vile scent of burning flesh and armor.

He wasn’t moving.

He couldn’t die. He couldn’t just die and leave her here. If he died, then she would never be free of this place. She would never leave this snowy wasteland. It would become another horrible frozen place in her chest. She couldn’t be alone. She hadn’t even apologized for thinking all those bitter, awful things. She hadn’t even apologized for living and for forcing him to bury his own brother. She hadn’t had time .

Ailani did not even know what she was doing until her trembling hand was reaching under his helmet, searching, scanning, feeling for pulse, for skin for—

Warmth spawned beneath her fingertips, a soft pulse beating under her touch, sending relief through her arm like a firework. The suddenness of it all made Ailani recoil her hand.

There was blood on her fingertips.

His blood.

Sinker was at her side, kneeling with her but too afraid to reach out. She hardly registered him.

“Is he….” His voice sounded as far away as Ailani felt.

Ailani tried to speak but found only frantic gasps in her mouth and the salty taste of tears. She couldn’t form thoughts, couldn’t piece together the fragments that floated in her mind. She was useless and gasping, making horrible, choked sobbing sounds. She held out her hands limply and showed Sinker the blood.

People were shouting behind them, yelling for a medic, for a stretcher, but they were so distant now, far removed from Ailani. She could not take her eyes off his broken helmet, the melting armor giving away to a dark cloud under his helmet.

A gash across Wolffe's face, maybe. Burning flesh. Burnt flesh. The second the thought arrived to her, Ailani smelled it: hot blood and melting skin. The sobs instantly turned to heaves, and Ailani pulled back and away frantically before she began vomiting into the snow. Her nose burned with bile, and her throat was raw, but the scent would not leave her and only seemed to grow stronger. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, only to find his blood smeared across her cheek. She vomited again.

Melting helmets. Brown eyes burrowed under the snow. Burning flesh that used to warm her. Lavender and orange blossoms. Sweet tarts in the kitchen, and stars painted on her ceiling. A forehead pressed against hers and a kiss on her cheek. Rotting flesh below her hands. Rotting blood on her hands. Rotting, rotting, rotting.

Someone’s hand was on her shoulder then, pulling her away from the ground after her stomach had been emptied, and uselessly, Ailani fell back, her legs trembling as she stumbled into the snow.

Master Plo was standing above her, his shoulders slack and stance exhausted.

“He’s alive,” Ailani said dumbly, and the words tasted like acid and iron.

Master Plo sighed sadly, and suddenly Ailani saw the medics in a crowd around Wolffe’s body, poking and prying at him.

“I know.” Master Plo replied, his voice even and his hand still on her shoulder. “I know.”

Outside of the medical wing, the world seemed quieter.

The halls of the Star Destroyer Resilient were just as pristine white as the snow on the planet below and twice as cold.

Ailani sat on the floor outside the recovery room, her legs crossed and back against the wall. She had followed the evac team here but had not been brave enough to venture inside the operating room with them. She had never been very brave. This mission proved that. It had established a lot of things Ailani had never wanted to admit.

How long had she been sitting here alone? How long would it take to gather her courage and simply walk in the door? The medical droids had left already, and she had overheard someone else saying that Wolffe was fine, and yet…

Ailani couldn’t will her legs to move.

“I hear he is not even awake yet.” Ailani started at the sound of Master Plo’s voice, grasping her chest in surprise.

Where had all her alertness gone? Probably wherever her sanity had gone.

The Master stood above her, calmness and gentleness flowing from him in waves. It helped—only a little.

“Oh,” Ailani replied, not sure what else to say. “Is that good?”

She had spent most of her life avoiding medical centers as best she could. They reminded her too much of healing sessions that never cured her nightmares and endless sleep studies that did nothing. Now, after Geonosis, the sterile scent reminded her of blood and sand and bacta she choked on. It was an incredibly selfish way of thinking about the current situation, but if Ailani could not stop.

She didn’t want to think of Wolffe drowning in bacta too.

Master Plo sighed in exhaustion, “Rest is good for all wounds.”

Ailani nodded but didn’t completely comprehend. “I think I’ll wait here anyway.”

Master Plo knelt to her level, something sad washing over him, “That is why I am here. You are needed on Naboo.”

Naboo. The mere mention of the planet made Ailani falter. She didn’t want to think of Naboo either. The bounty hunter she had killed there and the clone she had helped kill here. She didn’t want to think of any of it.

“What? But the mission here isn’t over, and we are a four-day journey away from Naboo. I cannot just—“ Ailani’s rambles were cut short by a simple wave of his hand. Not dismissive, just…silencing.

“The Queen has requested you specifically.” He continued, “We have just received the transmission.”

“I cannot just leave.” Ailani insisted, but it was no use. Everyone’s mind had been made up. The Queen had requested her. The Queen.

But for the first time in her life, Ailani didn’t want to go back to Naboo. She wanted to stay here.

“He’ll be fine,” Plo said, slightly sterner. Pressing.

Thoughts raced through Ailani’s mind. Fragments of brown eyes in snow, pieces of a bounty hunter stabbed through, the smell of burning flesh, and the feel of warm hands on her face.

But none of the words came to her, and instead, Ailani fell short. “He’s my friend.”

Plo Koon sighed, “He’s your Commander, Ailani. As am I. You are needed on Naboo.”

“I want to be needed here.” It sounded pathetic, hopelessly, childishly, pathetic. It was all she had.

“He will be fine.”

#ailani réillata #writings #begged and borrowed time #One of my favorites #And with this!#All the currently available chapters have finally been transferred over !

5 notes · View notes

what-an-empty-mind · 1 year

Text

Random things that make me nervous

Because if I’m not the type of person who is an oversharer I don’t know what I am

1. Not being able to hear my siblings breathing at night (my brother used to have a constricted airway and he would sleep on me or with my parents so we could monitor his sleeping, he has since had surgery and is several years older so not a problem anymore but I still get nervous)

2. The sedation hat something is crawling on you but there is nothing crawling on you and it’s just your skin being silly

3. Silence in general. I can’t do quiet, I need some kind of stimulation, can I go without noise? Yeah but only if I’m focused. Or my brain will make noises

4. Electric hum. I thought I was crazy, but I think I manifested it enough that the rest of my family noticed. Some of the electrical buzzing is at an annoying frequency (specifically one of our really old power strips behind the tv in the summer time because my mom wanted to air out the house)

5. Noise. I know this sounds a bit paradoxal but hear me out. When you first wake up in the morning (or you don’t go to sleep at all) everything sounds so much louder and even your footsteps feel loud that you don’t even want to move. I think the worst one is dishes because I avoid watching breakfast cause I don’t wanna hear the sound of the bowls rubbing against one another

6. The feeling that you’re not alone and you know your alone. Someone said this is normal but have I ever mentioned how I will absolutely blast music just to get my mind out of thinking this and focusing on that because it makes me feel better for a bit. It’s worse if your not in your own house

7. Uh…. The thing when you try to take something off and you know your doing it right but it tightens instead??? Like please I want to break free.

8. Driving. I have been on a bus accident, my mother got in a car accident when I was eight, she locked me in the car at a gas station when I was less than two, and just the number of accidents I’d been a witness to let alone ones I remember that my mom doesn’t remember… (she swears so many things didn’t happen) I am now learning how to drive. I think I started dissociating while driving and babes I don’t even have a license I have a permit.

9. People. This is normal right? People just make me nervous. Is it because I think someone could hurt me? Yeah. But that’s not all of it, im just nervous I’ll mess up when it comes to people, I can’t socialize right. You can get too modes from me one word answer or immediately click and you know half my backstory by the time we depart. Im also very bad at gauging what is appropriate of a time to not respond…

10. Centipedes. Self explanatory. I gained consciousness in Hawaii I was about four or five that’s how far my memories go back there scattered and out of order but one of the earliest ones is seeing on picking u other baby we were looking after to put him on the couch really calm like, and grabbing a hammer to smash the insect, and one of my mom’s boots. All the while my mom is like… O.O” ‘when did she find the time to find the hammer?’

**just a reminder to anyone in tropical climates, insects like centipedes always travel in pairs. When you see one there will be a second one not too far behind the first one**

11. Money. When I had a job and got paid I think I spent more time talking myself out of buying necessities like socks, shoes, underwear and that kind of stuff. Shit I even talked myself out of buying food for myself because I had food at home (I was gonna be home for at least eight more hours)

#I just get nervous

0 notes

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is.

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

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

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely. She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while. We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

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

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong. She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements and you have to have a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

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

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

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

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

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

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice. You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

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

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

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

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

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

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..” She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

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

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone, simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “ All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to.

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.”

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

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg.

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut fics #bts smut #jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts fics

492 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

542 notes · View notes

slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

Text

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

#brahms heelshire #Brahms x reader #Brahms x you #Brahms imagine #Brahms heelshire x reader #Brahms heelshire x you #Female reader #Slasher x reader #Slasher x you #Slasher imagine #Herbert West #Dan Cain #Smut #Lemon #Victorian AU #Victorian era #late victorian era #edwardian era

325 notes · View notes

loth-wolffe · 3 years

Text

Make a Wish

Pairings: none. a lil bit of captain rex x reader if you squint.

Summary: the torrent company prepares something for your birthday<3

Word count: 1,4k not proofread

A/n: So!!! i know I've been dead for the past week, but today's my sweetiepie ana @leia-saveourskins birthday!!!! and she asked me to write a little something for her so I came back from hell bc i can't really say no to mi bb ana. congrats bubs!! i hope you have the most amazing day today and always. hope you like this heheh<3 tqm mucho. mwah mwah mwah

Rex had called you to the hangar, something about Anakin needing some help with something, his words rushed as if he didn't have time and you felt confused, it wasn't like there weren't any more mechanics working at the time, and the General had given you half day off, "as a birthday present," he had told you, after a little hug and a congratulations.

You rushed your steps, hair still slightly wet from the shower you took before and the thought of getting more engine oil on you made you roll your eyes.

This better be good.

Once you got to the hangar door, you found it was closed, frowning, you commed Rex.

"The door is closed."

You hear him coughing, a few murmurs are heard and you never felt more confused in your life, what was going on.

"Yeah, sorry." He mumbled, "Ahsoka locked it by, uh, accident." Rex sounded nervous, and for some reason it made your heart beat faster. Did something happen? If it required for the General, Commander and Captain to be in the room, it must be important, but then again, there's no power in this galaxy that could ever torn them apart.

"Its open now."

It's not long before the door opens before you, and as soon as you step into the room, a chant of "surprise!" is heard, keeping you in place as your brain processes the image before you, tears filling your eyes as soon as it settles in your heart.

Everyone is there, your fellow mechanics, Anakin, Ahsoka, the troopers you had become friends with, even the General of the 212th was there, with big smiles on their faces, a big sign with messy letters in aurebesh that read Happy Birthday colored with the 501st blue hung between two ships, it was almost falling off, but the thought warmed your soul. The "ay" looked incredibly smaller as they run out of space compared to the wide H at the beginning, they all had different styles, and you wondered if they agreed to write one letter per person.

"I–" you started, but words didn't come out, you were left speechless, many emotions running through your mind and your heart that you couldn't pick one to express what you felt.

"Thank you," you whisper, blinking quickly in hopes for the tears to disappear, but they don't, much less when Ahsoka comes for you and holds your hand, leading you towards everyone.

"Ah! it's nothing, the boys insisted we should celebrate." She told you, the mischievous smile she wore told you she was to blame.

"The boys? Snips you couldn't shut up about the surprise party for a week." Anakin said, walking towards you before enveloping in a warm hug, one that lasted longer than the one he gave you a few hours prior. "Happy birthday," he murmured softly in your ear, and you smiled widely.

Anakin hasn't been nothing but nice since you joined the Resolute, times spent at the hangar fixing whatever ship he completely destroyed in his perfect landings, and you were completely past knowing him solely as The General and more as Anakin.

"Thanks, boss."

He chuckled, ruffling your hair before Ahsoka pushed him away.

"Hey, we all want our hugs gramps," she said as she gave you the tightest of hugs, laughing quietly when you hear Anakin huff in annoyance. "Hope we have you many many more years with us."

It took you a while, to be congratulated by everyone, Obi Wan being the first right after Ahsoka, Rex lingering a bit more than most, his cheeks a sweet shade of pink as he stumbles over his words.

"I uh," he scratches the nape of his neck, aware of the line of clones behind him waiting to hug you, "I, I know this isn't much but," his eyes look down to his feet before meeting your eyes, golden eyes filled with nothing but affection, his fingers fumble awkwardly with his belt as he tries to take something from one of the many bags. "I got you this."

He gives you a little bouquet of flowers of your favorite color, already placed in a cup with water to keep them from dying.

"Rex you–" for the second time in the past hour, tears fill your eyes, a lump in your throat makes it hard for the words to be pushed past your lips, "you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He frowns slightly, looking at the little box in your hands, "like i said, it's not much, but–"

"It's perfect, thank you."

You kiss his cheek, feeling like melting from all the love you're receiving, but mostly because how even now, in the middle of war, between so much death and suffering, they still find a moment to celebrate life, to still be kind, to be thoughtful and caring.

The tips of his ears turn red, and you giggle softly before thanking him again, he nods as he moves for the next person to give you his best wishes, a few give you little kisses on your cheeks, and others give you stiff hugs that made you chuckle.

Jesse is the last one to hug you, along with Hardcase and Fives.

"Happy birthday to not only the best mechanic in the GAR, but to our best friend as well." Jesse says before giving you a bone crushing hug, a loud, breathless laugh leaving your lips as he leaves a very wet kiss on your cheek.

Hardcase doesn't wait for Jesse to leave before he's hugging you too.

"Happy birthday!"

And it's not long before you have all the boys crushing you in the biggest bear hug you've ever had, feeling a bit claustrophobic for a moment but that doesn't stop you from enjoying the moment, your heart swelling with love.

When they all pull away to let you breath, Fives places a hand over your shoulders, walking you towards the Generals and the Commander waited for you.

"We got another surprise for you!"

"Oh really?" You ask, looking at Echo when he places himself on your other side, throwing his arm over your shoulders as well and walking in sync with you and Fives.

"Fives really insisted on it."

You hum, confused once more, but as soon as you meet with the others, you find what they were talking about.

There's a big cake being held by two astromechs, the white frosting perfectly placed under the blue letters that held your name right on the middle, sprinkles of at least eight different colors, one of the corners had way too much yellow and there was a tiny smiley face on another.

"There's no birthday if there's no cake." Fives stated, and everyone agreed.

"We made it, so we're not completely sure if it's good," Tup sheepishly admitted, and you almost melted at the thought.

They were too sweet, incredibly so that your heart couldn't take it.

"Thank you guys, I'm sure it's amazing."

"Oh! you cannot cut it without blowing the candle," Obi Wan spoke, patting his clothes trying to find the candle Anakin made sure he didn't forget.

He placed it on the when he found it, giving you a dashing smile and a wink once he did. R2 was quick to lit it up.

The boys made sure to be loud when singing the happy birthday song, Hardcase and Jesse making their voices as low and loud as they could, making Dogma roll his eyes and Fives laugh for most of the song.

Tears left your eyes a few times, overwhelmed with the affection they all had for you, your cheeks hurting with how wide you were smiling.

"What did you wish for?" Fives asked you at some point, to which you shook your head as you took another bite of cake that –to everyone's surprise,– it was actually good.

"Can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Some say that if you say your wish, it won't happen." He scoffs.

"Sounds like bullshit." You laugh loudly, which makes Fives' face break into a smile.

You don't tell him, though, that you didn't wish for anything. Not really, for everything you wanted was right there, with you, the feeling of home, of warmth. Knowing you belonged somewhere, in a family you found all by yourself, surrounded with joy, and love.

They made sure it was your best birthday ever.

126 notes · View notes

toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

Going Back Home

Summary: Claire never thought she would be back in the town she grew up in. But after her fiancé broke off their engagement, leaving her 5 months pregnant and alone she found herself calling Frankie Morales in the middle of the night, one of her childhood friends who insisted that she booked the next flight out. Trying to fix her life with a little help from her friends she would find out soon that going back would be the best decision she ever made.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Claire Beck

wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings: more or less unplanned pregnancy, break up, mentions of sexual encounters

A/N: I am a weak weak person so here it is, a chaptered fic. I will try to update this weekly, but no promises. Rating will go up later. I'm attempting slow burn. Let's see how slow lol Let me know what you think. Reblogs are, as always, appreciated 💙

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

Even Though most of her happiest memories were connected with this town, the town she spent most of her life in, Claire never thought she actually would be back here. And certainly not pregnant and all by herself.

It wasn’t that she had been unhappy here. Claire just always wanted something… bigger. Something more. Something exciting. After her parents died and most of her friends moved away, there was nothing holding her back. Well, that wasn’t true. Frankie and Santiago were there. But only when they weren’t overseas or god knows where, which left her with her dream of being a journalist in a small town where she had no chance to ever make it.

She still remembered Santi’s face when she announced that it was her turn to leave just before they were about to be gone for months again. She had gotten a job in New York and thought for days about what to do until she took the job. That was eight years ago and they hadn’t seen each other in person since then.

Yet when she called Frankie three days ago in tears, it was like no time had passed. She wanted to call Santiago first, but she knew him. If she had told him what happened to her he would have gotten into his car and gotten to her, no matter if it took 3 straight days. No, she had called Frankie. He had listened to her for hours until he made her promise to book the next flight out.

When the fuck did her life become such a shit show?

Only a week ago, she had the dream job, was engaged and 5 months pregnant.

Claire was happy. Until her fiance came back from a work trip and suddenly announced that he wanted nothing to do with the child and moved out within days, leaving her on her own. Not even his phone number was working and she wasn’t gonna show up at his work. She wasn’t that desperate. She should have seen it coming. John never planned to have kids. But when Clarie found out that she was pregnant he had already asked her to marry him and maybe he was too proud to end the engagement back then. Thinking back maybe this was the reason he stayed. Because a part of him wanted to spend his life with her. They didn’t fight. He just moved out, told her that he would take care financially of her and the child, but that he didn’t want to be a father.

The first days she was just numb. Trying to wrap her mind around the fact that the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with, left her while she was pregnant with a child they didn’t plan but that she loved without a doubt. That was what kept her going. Her little bean. Claire would do anything to protect her little girl.

The guys to this day called her bean. She found herself thinking more of them since John left. Even without seeing them in the last years, they still stayed in contact. Not a week went by where she didn’t receive a letter. They had a group chat that was only used when they were at home and the bachelor was on. Cause fuck did they all hate that show but they watched it anyways.

Claire was okay with the whole suddenly being on her own thing, until she felt her baby move for the first time and turned in her bed to wake her fiance, finding the side empty and cold. For one tiny moment, she had forgotten that she was alone in a city where she had only a couple of friends who were his friends rather than hers. She had always had a hard time finding friends. That probably wouldn’t change.

Sucking her bottom lip in, she rested one hand on her belly as she waited for her luggage to arrive. She slept almost through the entire flight. Claire had gotten rid of the last eight years of her life in the last 48 hours. She wanted to start fresh. She needed a fresh start. Even if she had no idea how to deal with all of this on her own.

A woman next to her helped her get her suitcases on the cart, noticing that Claire was on her own. Pushing the cart through security she saw Frankie as soon as the door opened and next to him Ben, Will and Santiago who all smiled at her, while she felt the first tears escaping her eyes.

She had met Ben and Will only a couple times, they were living an hour away, but they became part of the group immediately. Once upon a time her childhood best friend, Leah, was in that group too. Claire hadn’t thought of Leah in a long time. She had died in a car accident almost 12 years ago.

Arms pulled her in a warm embrace and even after years of not seeing each other for such a long time, she still noticed Frankie’s scent.

“We got you,” he whispered, kissing her hair. She sobbed once before she was pulled into Santi’s arms.

“Look at you,” he smiled before he looked down at her belly.

“And look at you?” he smiled and leaned down.

“Hello, this is your favorite Uncle speaking,” he winked, bending down to speak directly to her belly, making her chuckle.

“Oh please, we all know I’m gonna be the favorite, hey bean,” Will hugged her.

“Don’t listen to them baby girl, we know they're all gonna spoil you rotten,” she grinned, letting Ben kiss her cheek.

“So you’re staying?” Frankie asked and you nodded.

“I already called some realtors. I wanna get this over as quickly as possible. Already sold everything back in New York,” Claire said, looking at the two men who formed most of her teenage years.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of this airport first. You okay to stay with Frankie? He has the biggest house,” Santiago asked, pushing the cart as you slowly walked towards the exit with Ben’s arm around her shoulder.

“Uh… I don’t wanna impose. I could just take a room…”

“Fuck no. Stay at my place. It’s my Pa’s old ranch. I’m renovating it.”

“What? No way!” she said surprised but Frankie only nodded.

“Yeah after Liz and South America I needed something to keep me busy. Also needed more space for Elena,” he explained. A small smile sneaked to Claire’s face.

“I still can’t believe you’re a dad Frankie.”

“Can’t believe you gonna be a mom. Fuck we’re really adults now, huh?” he winked and Claire sighed.

“Certainly didn’t plan it that way. Or planned it at all,” she said sadly before she shook her head as if to get rid of the sad thoughts clouding her mind.

“I meant it, Claire. We got you. We are bored most times anyways.”

“Hey speak for yourself, Fish. I got a business,” Santi said.

“Yeah. Yeah. Me too. But after work you’re either drunk or after some pussy so?” Ben grinned, making her chuckle.

“So still no ladies in your life, boys?” Claire asked as they reached what definitely was Frankie’s truck. It had his company name on it. “Morales gardening”

“Nope. But now that you’re here we could finally….” Will started only for Claire to look away in disgust, making them all laugh.

“You ready to become a Daddy, Will?” she asked, her hands both on her belly.

“Uhm… of course?” he answered and she chuckled.

“That’s what I thought,” she patted his cheek.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted,” Frankie said and opened the door for her.

“We’ll see you tomorrow for the BBQ,” they all waved. She waved back, letting Frankie help her inside before he closed the door behind her and hopped into the driver’s seat.

“BBQ?” she asked.

“Can’t blame the folks from wanting to welcome you, bean,” he winked.

“What folks?”

“Ya know. Folks. You gonna see,” he looked at Claire. He felt better now that she was here. Frankie had missed her these last years, the couple of calls throughout hadn’t nearly been enough. And when she called two days ago in tears… He would have gotten the chopper and flown over but he couldn’t risk it. He had to be on good behaviour to be able to keep seeing his daughter.

“I missed you, Francisco,” she whispered.

“Missed you too, Bean.”

The sun was already setting when Frankie drove down a familiar path. Claire had spent countless days on this ranch when she was younger.

“How is your Dad doing?” she asked softly and Frankie sighed as he killed the engine in front of the house.

“I fucking hate that I can’t take care of him on my own, but he’s hanging in there.”

“I’d like to visit him if you’re okay with that,” she reached over squeezing his hand and he looked at her with a small smile.

“I bet he would love that.”

“And I’m sure he would have wanted it this way, Francisco. You know your dad. He wouldn’t have wanted you to drop everything for him. Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said quietly.

“Damn I really missed you Bean,” he shook his head.

“Missed you too,” she let her head fall against his shoulder.

Claire didn’t really have eyes for the house, all she wanted was to go to sleep.

“I finished the guest room this morning for you,” Frankie said, setting one of her suitcases down as he opened the door.

“Please tell me you didn’t work overnight to finish this,” she sighed looking at him. He was rubbing the back of his head, pulling the cap he was always wearing down and avoiding her eyes.

Knowingly she shook her head, but couldn’t help the smile sneaking to her face.

“I won’t say it. But please don’t touch the walls, they might still be wet,” he said and she chuckled.

“Okay. Bathroom is over there. The shower isn’t working yet but you’re welcome to use mine. Will is coming over to take a look and make this one work. Other than that if you need anything just ask. Until you found a place this is your home.”

“You really didn’t have to do this, Frankie,” she said quietly, feeling overwhelmed by all of this. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time for her and she only now seemed to realize that she was indeed about to be a single mom.

“I wanted to. You’re… You don’t deserve to be treated like this. So let us help you, okay?” he said softly and she nodded but avoided his eyes.

“Okay. Go to sleep. My room is down the hallway if you need anything,” he stepped closer, kissing her forehead and for one tiny moment, she felt like the 15 year old teenager again who was crushing on Frankie Morales.

“Good night, Francisco,” she smiled.

“Good night, bean,” he whispered before he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Claire looked around, in awe of the room, the bed looking so inviting to her. Sighing she walked over to the window, knowing she would be able to see the whole property during the day. Crossing her arms in front of her she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature that she had no idea she had missed living in the city for all these years. She felt a fluttering in her belly, her hand wandering down to feel a kick.

“We’ll be happy here, I promise,” she vowed, rubbing over her belly.

She didn’t want to disturb Frankie, even though she could hear the TV running so she just washed herself at the sink before she put her Pajamas on and sat down on the bed. She would unpack tomorrow. For now she had to sleep.

The sun wasn’t even up when Claire woke up. She turned in bed, propping herself up so she could look out the window and watch the sunrise. She had to make a plan. A plan that included finding a house, a doctor and help. Though help would be her smallest problem. She already looked at houses in the area and it didn’t look good. If she had more time she would buy the house just down this road, but there was no way the house would be ready before her due date. She would ask Santi for help. He had a lot of connections through his business. Though Frankie too. Claire knew that he had a little gardening company since he lost his pilot’s license. He never really talked about it, but then again, they didn’t talk that much. She knew that he had some problems with drugs in the past, but that he has been clean for almost two years and was doing better. She also knew that there was a lot more to this story then he had told her. Maybe they would have time to talk. To really talk. Groaning to herself, her quiet and peaceful morning was interrupted by her bladder. Time to start the day.

For a minute she wondered if she could risk sneaking into Frankie’s room to take a shower when she heard music playing. Grabbing her bathrobe and toiletries she opened the door and walked down. Now being really awake she had time to take in the house. It seemed like there still was a lot to do. The walls were still unpainted, the floors still old, though she could see he already started with the floor the closer she got to the kitchen.

Frankie was sitting at the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in front of him as the radio quietly played in the background. He had a serious case of bed hair and she smiled to herself. He hadn’t noticed her yet and she found herself thinking back to all the times she had thought that maybe there was something more in between them than friendship. And maybe there was at one point a long time ago. But that was before he joined the military. She might be selfish for it, but she couldn’t be in a relationship where her partner was gone all the time. She needed someone to be there. Even Though there had been times in the past she had found herself asking if maybe she should have risked it.

Instead she had slept with Santiago.

Yeah, that was a big fuck up. Well it was also a pretty good fuck but it was just once and they definitely were better off as friends. She still didn’t know if Frankie knew. Not that she had to explain herself. Frankie always knew what effect he had on the women around him, and he sure as hell took advantage of it. And now she felt nothing more than love for him. As a friend, nothing more.

“Good Morning,” she said quietly and Frankie turned his head, yawning at her.

Chuckling she walked over taking in the kitchen, setting her toiletries down.

“You weren’t kidding when you say you were still renovating,” she sat down next to him. He got up from his seat walking over to fix her a mug of tea.

“Still hooked on Strawberry tea, I hope?” he asked and she nodded, surprised that he remembered.

“Yeah. Though the kitchen and living room are supposed to be finished by the end of next week. So sorry for the noise in the next couple days,” he walked over and set down the mug of tea in front of her.

“Hey it’s your house. I’m just thankful you let me stay.”

“Of course. Couldn’t let you stay in the dumpster motel in this town,” he winked. She took a sip of the tea and it was perfect.

“So what are you planning for today?” he asked.

“I probably should start looking into houses. I’m kind of on a timetable here,” she rested one hand on her belly and Frankie followed her movement.

“Yeah. I think Pope already called someone for some houses. It’s not looking good.”

“Yeah I thought so. Everything I found on the internet was in really bad shape,” she sighed.

“It’s gonna work out. And if you don’t find something, you’re welcome to stay. The place is big enough,” he shrugged and Claire laughed quietly.

“Yeah I bet you can’t wait to live with a hormonal pregnant woman and then with a newborn,” she joked.

“I lived with Pope. Nothing can be worse and…”

“And?” she asked.

“I already lived with a hormonal pregnant woman. It’s not that bad,” he shrugged with a small smile. She looked at him with a small smile on her face.

“You say that now. Wait till I’m craving your mug cake at 3am now that I’m living with you,” she joked. Frankie laughed.

“Wow I haven’t had one of those in at least 10 years.”

“Well then it’s about time.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking at Claire. She looked more relaxed today, like she had a good night’s sleep and he was thankful he put in an overnight to finish the guest room for her. She deserved to relax. When she told him that she not only was pregnant but dumped by her fiance Frankie was furious, yet at the same time he already decided that he would take care of her and help her with everything she needed. It was the least he could do.

Even though they grew apart in the last years, she still was one of his best friends.

“Okay. I’m gonna go take a shower. I got to drive out to check on a project. You gonna be okay here for a while?” Frankie asked. Claire nodded, grabbing her mug of tea.

“Just tell me when you’re going out so I can take a shower,” she said.

“Thank you, Frankie,” she whispered when she stopped next to him and softly kissed his cheek, before she walked down the hallway. Frankie looked after her with a soft smile before he got up to get ready to head out.

Next chapter

#my writing #going back home #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #frankie morales fanfiction

193 notes · View notes

mymoodwriting · 2 years

Text

The Forgotten Truth

F!Reader x Suho

Genre: CEO/Yandere AU

Warning: Drugs, Needles, Isolation, Insomnia, Abuse, Blood

Words: 2.9K

Chapters:

Prompt: After surviving a devastating car accident you awoke with amnesia, no memory of who you were, and the only connection to your past was your husband, Suho. The CEO of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world, who loved you to the ends of the universe, even if you didn’t remember. You knew his love was true, cause you felt your love for him in your heart. Three years later you’re as happy as you can be with him, but there’s just something that’s not right, and you’re not so sure you can figure out what.

“Why are you having me followed?”

“Why are you surprised?”

It was never easy to tail someone in the same business, and Johnny knew within a matter of seconds he was being followed. Within the minute he knew who had set this up, and he was not happy. He made his way to the culprit, knowing there would be no opposition as he would be expected, his tail would surely warn their boss.

“It’s a waste of time and resources. We’re supposed to be looking for y/n.”

“And that’s what I’m doing.”

“Are you seriously suspecting? Now of all times?”

“Suho brought me here to do a job. He may not have any suspicions of you, but I can’t rule you out.”

“Are you fucken kidding me? You think I kidnapped y/n?”

“You and Suho didn’t exactly leave off on good terms. And now you’re all buddy buddy with him, that’s enough to put you high on the suspects list.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“That would be you.” Minho stood to face Johnny properly. “You’re showing me such fire and passion over being a suspect, yet where is all this when actually looking for your beloved friend? You’ve been so calm and collected, not acting impulsively or being a danger like Suho is. Perhaps that’s why I don’t trust you.”

Johnny glared. “Don’t waste resources having me tailed. Tell your guy to just act as my bodyguard and stick to my side, it’ll save you the trouble. If you wanna waste time, fine, but don’t complicate things.”

“If you really want to cooperate then give me access to your bank accounts and let me search all your places.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’ll do all that without your permission, you know everything is free range right now anyway, but your cooperation would be appreciated.”

“Fine.” Johnny set down his phone. “Clone it if you want, but you’ll get what you want off of it. I’ll be back in an hour for it. I’ll meet your tail while I’m out.”

“Thanks.”

♥♥♥♥♥

You gasped as you woke from what you could only describe as a nightmare. The tears were rolling down your cheeks and you started sobbing. It all finally came into focus, there weren’t anymore gaps, just the answers you had always wanted. All that confusion over Suho, you were the one who made the choice to walk away, but he didn’t let you. He was the reason your life had gotten turned upside down, but you couldn’t put all the blame on him. You didn’t know anything about him, and you never listened to Johnny’s warnings. This was on you as much as it was on anyone else.

After the crying you got out of bed, trying to compose yourself. You made your way through the quiet apartment, lost in thought. Now that you knew the truth, you had a choice to make, a choice you never had before. You knew about the world around you, the players, and the goals. It seemed that Suho was everyone’s enemy, and they were finally making a move against him. There was nothing stopping you from walking out the door and going to him, telling him everything.

That thought crossed your mind only because you still didn’t know how you felt about Suho. The good and the bad, he loved you, didn’t he, all the things he’s done couldn’t have just been on some kind of whim. There had been something real, you can’t fake being in love, not for that long. All the gifts, the kisses, the time spent together, you knew he cared about you, and he only ever showed you that. Still, he lived so dangerously, if he didn’t have the power he did, but even then, what would stop any psycho from attacking you to get to him. You had been so naive.

You were just standing around the kitchen, unsure if you even had the energy to make yourself breakfast. You needed to talk to someone, you couldn’t be alone right now, not with all this information and no way of getting answers. You didn’t want to make a mistake, you wanted to get out, but you didn’t know how. You wound up on the floor again, holding your head and sobbing, wondering why it had to be you. Your life was already a mess, and the one good thing you had turned out to be worse than you could ever imagine. In a sense maybe you deserved it for thinking you could have a normal life, let alone a luxurious one.

You didn’t compose yourself until you heard a knock at your door. You immediately quiet down, fear taking over. No one was supposed to know you were here, and you’d think that Johnny would just let himself in. The knocking continued but you didn’t move, knowing it was better not to answer. That is until the person at the door began talking, saying that they knew you were there, and that Johnny had told them about you. With that you were intrigued but still cautious, carefully making your way to the door and peek out the viewing hole. You saw a young girl outside, holding some take out. She didn’t seem bad so you opened the door a bit.

“Hello, I’m Karina. Johnny told me to keep an eye on you. May I come in? I brought food.”

“I… sure…”

You opened the door just enough for her to come in, still a bit weary. She went straight for the kitchen getting the food out and setting the table.

“So… how do you know Johnny?”

“We met when he moved in here. Says it’s just a place to get away.”

“What did he tell you about me?”

“Nothing bad. He just said you need to lay low from your ex for a while. I get that.”

“Ah.”

“Come on, eat, Johnny told me what you like.”

“Thanks…”

“No problem.”

♥♥♥♥♥

The tail was annoying, but Johnny kept that to himself. It didn’t really change much, so he’d just continue with his usual tasks. Since he was part of Suho’s family, he had the responsibility of checking in with the others to see if they had any information to share. His first stop of the day would be the Lee family, and he already knew that would not go well.

“What do you want?”

“I’m not here to cause trouble.” Johnny assured. “Just to talk.”

“And who’s that?”

“My tail, Onew. Everyone is on edge as you can imagine, and cooperation is important.”

“Even you’re a suspect, that’s hilarious.”

“Indeed. So, is there anything you wish to share before it gets revealed.”

“I have nothing to hide. I don’t like to cause trouble, but I will help in the search for his wife.”

“That’s much appreciated.”

“If that’s all, I have business to attend to.”

“Of course.”

“With that being said, any info on her?”

“None at the moment.”

“Hm, well I’m sure she’ll be found soon, now that the whole city is looking for her.”

“I hope you’re right.”

♥♥♥♥♥

You opened your eyes, being blinded by white. It took a second to adjust, and then you started looking around. It kinda looked like a hospital, but it seemed far too dark for that. You could see some needles nearby, coming to realize you had one in either arm. You tried to move, only to discover you were restrained. A panic started, and you started pulling on the restraints before you heard something beep. A moment later you felt dizzy, having trouble keeping your eyes open. You tried to stay awake though, using whatever energy you had to do so.

“Oh, you’re conscious.”

“Hm…”

“It’s okay baby girl, just sleep.”

“Suho…”

“Just close your eyes.”

“What…”

“Sh, go back to sleep.”

“I…”

“We’re not done yet baby, it’s okay to rest. I’ll get you back to your room soon enough.”

You couldn’t really keep your eyes open for much longer, closing them and sinking into a void. When you opened your eyes again you screamed, seeing you were in the apartment, breathing heavily. You’ve had nightmares like that before, ever since you got out of that house. The dark room, filled with white and needles. You could only imagine that’s where you wound up whenever Suho needed to fix you. Now that the memories were coming back you remembered why you had been so afraid of him in the first place.

You were in love once, you could believe that, but you let that go the night of the accident. Although your choice was forgotten, by you and those closest to you. Now you were back at that night, wondering if you’d make the same choice, but then again, it was made for you, even back then. There was no reason to go back to that life, you wanted to run away, but that wouldn’t be easy, might be impossible actually. The people closest to you wouldn’t just let you disappear, and they’d have the means to find you. It seemed that the only option you had was to wait and see who came out on top, only then would you know your own fate.

Of course you couldn’t just sit still and wait. You couldn’t even sleep with these nightmares anymore, not wanting to remember anything else. Then there was the paranoia. Before you felt somewhat safe, with another family, but now you were all alone, lying in wait to be found. You couldn’t even expect Johnny to come around, feeling more alone than ever. He’s been missing from your life for years now, and even when it seemed like you’ve found each other again, he’s left you all alone. You had no one, and you were so scared, and that consumed you until you just collapsed. Falling into darkness with no way out.

♥♥♥♥♥

“I can’t even have a quiet meal thanks to you.”

“You’re the one who suggested I stick next to you like glue.”

“It’s still annoying that I have to be followed like this.”

“You agreed to it.”

“I never agreed to it, but there’s no point arguing.”

“Smart.”

“And who are you anyway? You’re not one of Suho’s men, I’ve never seen you before.”

“I work with Minho.”

“Ah, so you’re loyal to him.”

“We’re loyal to each other, and I’m just here because he trusts no one else to keep an eye on you.”

“I could have figured that out myself.”

Johnny’s phone rang, and he checked to see who it was. He kept his cool about it, trying to excuse himself, but as he stood, so did Onew.

“This is private.”

“No such thing right now. We can go out and answer it, or you can sit down.”

“Aish.” Johnny just sat back down. “Hello?”

“Johnny… I’m sorry…”

He was trying to keep his composure, but getting a call from Karina could not be a good thing. The second he heard what had happened, you needed to get rushed to the hospital, he knew he had to get to you and fast. Onew had realized the look on his face, about to ask, when Johnny just bolted. He didn’t care if this would blow his cover, he needed to make sure you were safe, and a hospital wasn’t it. Onew quickly tried to follow him, but one good sucker punch kept him away, and soon after Johnny was driving off, for once having lost his tail.

When he got to the hospital he asked for you, rushing over to your room. He didn’t even bother asking for your condition, you couldn’t stay. He found that you were unconscious in bed, it seemed you were stable and not seriously injured, which was a relief. He took a small moment to apologize, pulling out the IV and picking you up in his arms. He already had an idea in mind, where to go and what to do next, but it seemed he wasn’t fast enough. As he turned to leave he was met with some familiar faces at the door.

“Put her down.”

“Suho, we need to get her out of here immediately. Your place-”

“I don’t recall you being informed of this.” Minho said. “We only recently got told about her whereabouts and yet you’re here before us.”

“She needs to get home, now.”

“Johnny, I’ve never wanted to see you in a negative light, but I don’t like this situation.”

“Suho-”

“Take him.”

Minho and a bunch of others stepped forward. Johnny knew this was a possibility, he’d fight, but he wasn’t going to put you in any more danger. He set you down on the bed and let himself get dragged off. This was far from over.

♥♥♥♥♥

“There you are.”

The first thing you heard was the machines around you, slowly pulling you to reality. When you opened your eyes you took in your surroundings. This was an actual hospital, and you weren’t really registering if that was good or bad, that is until you heard a voice. A hand took yours and you found Suho sitting at your bedside.

“Suho…”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay now.”

“What… what’s happening…”

“Sh, just rest. I’ll get you home soon, just-”

“No.” You pulled your hand away. “I’m not… not going… with you…”

“Baby, it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“It was you…”

“What?”

“That night… the accident…”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re… you… that night… you’re… dangerous…”

“Y/n, I don’t know-”

“Don’t lie! I remember…”

“Do you?” Suho sighed, standing up. “Alright, alright, that’s expected. You’ve been off your meds for weeks now and haven’t been receiving treatment. It doesn’t matter, everything will be okay in the end.”

“Tell me…”

“Hm?”

“That night… who hit me?”

“What?”

“Who hit me?”

“Why does that matter? That was-”

“Are they alive?”

Suho scoffed. “Why should you care? They-”

“Did you kill them!”

“…”

“Did you?”

“It was a hit and run, you would have been dead if not for the treatment you received thanks to me! How could I not make them pay!”

“I should have died…”

“Don’t say that.” Suho grabbed your head. “I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”

“You’ve made that very clear… my feelings be damned.”

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“Because of you.”

“Ya… let’s just leave it here. You need to rest. I’ll see about getting you discharged.”

You didn’t say more, having gotten a few things off your chest already. You still felt exhausted, knowing more or less what had happened to you. Being in a hospital did make you feel better, but waking up and seeing Suho wasn’t ideal. You didn’t want to go back with him, and it seemed like you were on your own, so you had to get out. Once Suho left the room you got up, seeing if you were steady on your feet, and you were, a decent amount.

You pulled out the IV, making your way to the door and peeking out. Knowing Suho you expected some bodyguards to be outside your door, but you were fortunate not to find any. Perhaps he didn’t want to make a big deal out of your location given how long you’ve been missing. You made your way out of your room, trying to stay out of sight and looking for the nearest exit. You didn’t really know what you’d do once you got out, but it was better to make it out first then figure that out.

“I don’t believe you should be out of bed.”

A hand came out of nowhere to grab your arm, pulling you back towards your room. You tried fighting back, but their grip was firm. When you got a closer look at their face you felt a vague sense of familiarity.

“Who-”

“Minho. An old friend of Suho’s, now please get back to bed.”

“No! Let me go! I want nothing to do with him!”

“We both know that’s out of your hand.”

You wound up back in your room, Minho forcing you in bed, trying to get the IV back in. You kept fighting him and he eventually stopped.

“I didn’t want to resort to such tricks, but you give me no choice.”

“What-”

Minho stuck a needle in your arm, and you looked in disbelief. You probably should have expected this, but you had hoped the environment would give you some freedom. You didn’t bother fighting this time, knowing it was too late for that.”

“Johnny…”

“I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s in some trouble of his own.”

♥♥♥♥♥

They didn’t tie him up this time, he just calmly sat in Suho’s office, three guards in the room with him and another two outside. He waited patiently, going over his options, but he was mostly concerned over you, wanting to know if you were alright. Nothing serious had happened, but being at the hospital certainly complicated things. After what felt like hours Suho returned, with Minho.

“I-”

“Quiet.” Suho ordered, taking his seat. “I didn’t want to believe you were the cause of all this, but it’s hard to ignore evidence.”

“What evidence?”

“Everything Minho has given me. You ditched your tail, having spoken with someone on a phone we didn’t know you had, and then to meet at the hospital where y/n was at.”

“That’s circumstantial. I’ve done-”

“Enough. Regardless of the truth I can’t trust you anymore, but since we were friends once before I’ll give you a chance to come clean.”

“What?”

“Given everything that’s happened.” Minho explained. “There’s no way you’ve been working alone. So which family has aided you in this?”

Johnny scoffed. “You don’t think I’m capable on my own?”

“I don’t know, depends if you make it believable.”

26 notes · View notes

intoanothermind · 4 years

Text

Flying Solo - Reggie

Word Count: 2.1k

- Reggie x reader

Synopsis: ever since you died, all you do is walk around the city and watch people going through their lives in restaurants, pubs and other establishments. That is until you meet another ghost in one of these places.

Masterlist

(This is based on a request I asked a few days ago. I’ve tried putting a gif instead of a picture, but tumblr doesn’t let me do it, but I’ll keep tryind. Don’t forget to check out my other Reggie fic and the one I wrote for Luke!)

Stand Tall - Reggie // Akai Ito - Reggie (soulmate au) // Bright - Luke

—

Since I died, I have enjoyed spending time watching the lifers. I walked the streets of Los Angeles and spent hours and hours sitting in restaurants, coffee shops, pubs and other establishments. Many people spent their time on their cell phones or typing on their laptops, but I liked to watch other people interact. I would like it even more if I could eat, but the smell of coffee and pie always calmed me down. And sometimes I would discover some other ghost in those places.

Especially if he moved a customer's food and the person looked around confusedly. I paid more attention when the woman took her eyes off her cell phone, picked up her plate and changed tables, without noticing the two boys sitting at the table. A third boy, who had previously been in front of the counter, sat in the empty seat. They talked for a while - unfortunately I couldn't hear from where I was several tables behind - before the blonde walked out the door and the third boy shortly after. I got up quickly before the cute boy who was making a prank on the client disappeared too.

"Hi." I said, taking the vacant seat for the blonde. "What's your name?"

His blue eyes widened and looked back before turning back to me and pointing at his chest.

"Me?" he asked, confused, and he just seemed even cuter.

"Yes, you." I laughed. "My name is Y/N, what’s yours?"

“Reggie. I'm Reggie.” he smiled and shifted in his chair, looking excited. "How can you see me?"

I shook my head, still smiling. He clearly didn't understand.

"I'm a ghost too." I replied, extending my hand to the side just as a girl passed and my arm went through her.

His smile widened even further, making his eyes narrow.

"Cool!" he opened his eyes wide. "I mean, it's not cool that you died, or anything..."

But my smile has not diminished.

"It’s okay, I had a year to get used to it."

"What did you die of?"

“Car accident last year. I was with my mom coming back from a performance. She crossed over to the other side, I didn't.” my smile became a little sad. "But what about you? How long have you been a ghost?”

"Well..." he made a funny face. "About 25 years ago we ate some bad hot dogs."

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Really?"

"I know." he made a face of suffering. "It was not our best moment."

"Our?"

"Me and my bandmates."

"Those who were here with you."

"Yes! Luke and Alex. We died together.”

"So you must have seen a lot of things together in the past 25 years." I commented excitedly, leaning on the table.

"Not exactly." he made another funny face. "After we left the ambulance, we were in this dark room where Alex was crying and the next thing we remember is falling into a girl's garage a few days ago."

"So that means I have more ghost time than you do!"

“Oh, but we’ve already discovered some really cool things! We managed to play in front of people when we played with Julie!”

My heart sank when I heard that name and I opened my mouth to comment, but I felt a shiver go through my body when someone sat in the chair where I was. I got up quickly, because the worse thing than passing through people was staying in the exact spot where she was. I looked at Reggie and he too had stood up when another girl sat down where he was.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"For sure." said Reggie, holding my hand and whooshing us to a beach where I have never been.

It was not as crowded as the most famous beaches in Los Angeles, but it had some movement.

"Where are we?" I asked when I noticed Reggie kicking some sand and sitting with his back to the sea and facing a bike shack.

"I used to live here." he replied while I sat next to him. “This bike shack used to be my home. Every now and then I come here and wonder what happened to my parents. ”

"I'm sorry." I murmured, lying my head on his shoulder and just watching the movement in the store.

"Okay. I'm sorry I spoiled the mood.”

"It's all right. I think about my family as well.”

"But you've only been a ghost for a year." he said, turning his head slightly towards me. "Didn't you ever see how they're doing?"

"Once, two weeks after we died." I whispered. “My family was destroyed. I couldn't see them like that without being able to do anything, so I only come back once every few months to see if they were okay.”

"I'm sorry." he murmured, resting his head on mine.

We stayed there for a few minutes in that position, not saying anything, just watching people coming and going in front of the store that used to be his home.

"Did they really kill Han Solo?" the question was asked so unexpectedly, I could only lift my head from his shoulder and look at him a little confused.

"What?"

"Do you know Star Wars?" he said quickly. "We went to a club the other day and Luke and I were trying to catch up on what we missed and a couple of the living told us that they made about eight more Star Wars movies and that they killed Han Solo!"

"Whoa, easy!" I laughed. "I do know the movies. And yes, they did. His son killed him.”

"What?!" he looked shocked at me. "I think I would rather never know about the continuation of the series."

"I’m sorry." I said, but I couldn't help but laugh at the expression on his face. “It certainly wasn't the best moments in the saga. This latest trilogy disappointed a little.”

"I was hoping you would tell me it was a lie." he grimaced before letting out a breath and getting up. “Y/N, I need to go. We have a band rehearsal. We are playing tonight at the pub we met, you should go.”

I stood up as well and smiled at him a little, but I denied it.

“Sorry, Reg. I had a really big connection to music and my family when I was alive. It still hurts to think about it, so I always avoid it. But I promise that one day I will see you playing. ”

"Okay." he gave a big smile. "See you around then."

And disappeared.

~*~

As the days went by, Reggie and I got closer and closer. We met several times and went to different places. Especially places where I could update him on the things he lost in the last 25 years. But then he stopped appearing beside me with that wide smile and dork way. For several days I didn’t see him, wondering if anything had happened. I heard stories about ghosts who were trapped by contracts, others who ceased to exist, and I was afraid that he had crossed over or was in trouble - and I couldn't do anything to help.

The next time he showed up I was on the beach again, in front of the bike shack, waiting for him to show up at some point. When he appeared, I barely gave him time to pull himself together before jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

“Reggie! What happened? You went MIA, are you okay? I got worried!"

He didn't answer, just pulled away from the hug, held my face in his hands and kissed me. I reacted instantly, kissing him back in the same intensity.

"It hurt to think that maybe I didn't have the opportunity to do that." he murmured when we leaned away.

"What do you mean by that?"

He then set out to tell me about the Hollywood Ghost Club, the stamp, the shocks, the threats, the Orpheum show and how they managed to touch Julie afterwards.

"Julie?" I asked, feeling my throat tighten. “The girl who can see you and make you visible? Is her name Julie Molina? ”

"How did you know?" he asked, confused, and I had to take a deep breath to keep from crying.

"She is my little sister."

Reggie's eyes widened in surprise. "You are the Y/N who died with Julie's mother."

I just nodded.

“So did she play again? Is she fine?"

He gave me a knowing smile.

“Why don't we go back to the house and you can see for yourself? I think you've gone too long without seeing her. ”

I agreed, still a little stunned.

"Hey Hey." he caught my eye until I looked him straight in the eye. He stroked one of my cheeks and smiled when I blushed. "It's gonna be okay. I was really going to invite you to meet the band. ”

"So let's go." I smiled at his excitement.

He hugged me around the waist and we teleported directly to mom’s studio. It was different from how I remembered. The piano was uncovered, the lights were on, and instruments were scattered on the other side. I think they were the instruments that the boys used. But they were not there.

"Yeah, I think the boys haven't arrived yet." Reggie commented, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's all right." I mumbled, moving towards the piano and sitting on the stool.

Reggie sat next to me.

"Do you play?"

"I used to play with mom and Julie." I said, concentrating my energy on my fingers and starting to strum one of mom's favourite songs. I looked at Reggie and he was smiling at me. I continued to play, feeling the music flowing through me like when I was alive. It was great to know that I could play even now.

"Boys, I already said that you can't play while I'm not ... here."

I stopped playing abruptly when I looked at the garage door and Julie was there looking at me as if she had seen a ghost. Well, had had. I got up from the stool quickly and went towards my sister.

"Julie..." I sobbed, trying to reach her at the same time as she held her hand out to me. But my hand went through hers and I started to cry.

"Y/N." she was crying too. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Jules." I laughed.

"I thought you crossed over, I never saw you here."

“I came here a few times, but you never saw me. I couldn't stand to stay long. I spent most of my time walking around the city. ”

"What about mom?" she asked hopefully.

I shook my head. “I never saw her. She crossed right away.”

Julie tried to dry the tears, but they just kept coming down.

"Please, don’t go." she pleaded in a voice so low it broke my heart. “You can stay here with the boys. Just please don't go.”

I looked at Reggie in exasperation, but he came over to me and rested a hand on my back and I managed to take a deep breath.

"Okay." I smiled at my younger sister. "I’ll stay here."

"Yes!" I heard Reggie murmuring and Julie and I laughed, slowly composing ourselves.

“Julie? Is everything alright here?" I heard a third voice and turned to see the two boys who were in the pub with Reggie when I met him.

"Alex, Luke, this is Y/N, my sister."

Luke, the one with the brown hair, raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The sister you said that died?"

Julie made a face, but I just laughed and confirmed it.

Alex, the blonde, observed my closeness to Reggie and smirked. "I imagine this is also the same Y/N that Reggie kept talking about."

"Eh... Well... It wasn't like that..." Reggie gasped trying to brush it off, but I just laughed as I grabbed his chin and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

I barely noticed the boys' laughter and Julie's comment on how weird it was to see her sister kissing someone. I was too busy drinking on Reggie's expression, who had his eyes closed and an ecstatic smile on his lips.

891 notes · View notes

junova · 3 years

Text

↬ 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐭 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract: the one where steve finds your love letters.

pairing: au!steve x fem!reader

word count: 3K+

warnings: cussing, fluff, angst, crying, slight self-deprecation.

[author’s note]: hey guys! i’m really new to the writing scene so kind words are appreciated! srsly just testing my writing style out and wanted to just post something to motivate me to keep writing. hope u like it. <3

also thank u ari for the inspo and that bomb ass album that saved twenty-twenty. now we just need biden to get elected.

ps. don’t forget to vote! <3

Stevie,

First and foremost, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You have become the man you’ve said you become, the one I always knew you would. You have finally seen what the rest of us see.

A good man.

The soul you carry within you shines brighter than I’ve ever seen. Just for that only, I’m thankful for the time we’ve spent together. Maybe one day, I’ll be brave enough to tell you this without hiding behind the comfort of this notebook. She won’t spill my secrets, fortunate for me.

Some days you have no idea how badly I want to tell you. I think it’s on the days I discover a new fleck of green in your eyes or maybe when you show up to class with a cup of coffee for me without request.

More. More. More.

It’s selfish of me, that much I know. More days than not, I would say you give too much of yourself away. Always wanting to appease everyone, you, Steven Rogers, the bridge to making the people around you happier than they walked in. Even when Bucky drags you into his nonsense bullshit, you say yes without hesitation.

I’ve got not a a clue on how you continue on, how you still remain you when you tend to spread yourself so thin. Who watches out for you? Who cares for you? Who loves the almighty, selfless Rogers?

For me, it’s much easier to pretend you carry too much on your plate than to deal with the rejection I would receive from you. You’re just too good, more than I deserve. More than I would be willing to take. I know I couldn’t possibly give you what you deserve but, I hope that one day you might see me differently. You would see me more than the light I’ve painted myself in.

Even though the shade is lovely, I want to be deeper. Deeper into you on a level which only seems unattainable at this point.

A forever friend. To be in your life, just as a friend, is an reward in itself.

But someday I hope you would love me in the same way I do. It’s all a love struck girl could do. Hope for the best, bet be prepared for the downfall.

With much love, your forever friend.

Tearing the page away from the binding of the overfilled notebook, dispensing it in the first empty drawer you could find, you abandoned the feelings as soon as the pen’s ink bleed out dry.

“You know it would just be easier to tell him how you feel.” You peaked up at the sound of her voice, before realizing she was looming over you, watching your write the letter.

Your supposed, secret letter.

“Nat, please. No.” Opening the drawer, she grabbed the letter but was surprised with just how many she found.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve written about him multiple times?” You sank in the soft, plush material of your seat hoping that just maybe it would begin to swallow you whole. Hopefully, fast enough were you wouldn’t have to endure the rest of the conversation. One you had been trying to avoid, for the past three years.

“It’s nothing Nat, just forget it.” Just like a Romanov, she couldn’t leave it alone. Even if she tried it was laced in her blood to see any little thing through.

“You really shouldn’t wait so long. A window might close for you, much sooner than you think.” With a curious eyebrow lifted, you felt your breath leave you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” Steve certainly deserved the best and you knew it was only time for him to figure out you would never be enough for him.

“Peggy Carter.” Peggy.

The one girl of a sea of many who had been enamored by Steve. He never really seemed to spend anytime with the women who vied for his attention, but Peggy was surely different than the rest.

Even if Steve was oblivious when it came to the advances everyone would make on him, he saw Peggy. Considering she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, she intimidated you. God, did she ever.

On numerous occasions she and Steve had gone out, and even though he assured you they were just friends you were starting to believe he was only trying to protect your feelings. As a friend.

He had never cancelled on you once for her and he would tell you if he had started to date someone, just like he had before.

Even though the entire three years you’d known him he only had one serious girlfriend and after eight months, the pair broke up and even now he still didn’t budge on why they broke up.

“Steve can do whatever he wants with her. He’s a single man. He’s gone out with her before and he’ll probably go with her again.” Then Sam was the next to speak up, dismissing the total bullshit spouting from your mouth.

“Can’t you see he doesn’t want to? The damn man follows you around like a goddamn puppy.” Okay, when did he even come in here?

“God, fuck, no he doesn’t. He would have said something by now, he’s had three years and it’s been nothing but radio silence.” With an all knowing smirk, Sam proposed a new concept into question.

“It has been three years. So, have you ever said anything to him?”

Shit. Fuck you, Wilson.

“W-Well, not exactly.” Sam didn’t have to say anything in response. You knew he was right and you hated it.

Your unwillingness still stood for you, there was just no way he actually would reciprocate your feelings.

“Listen, I think it would be really good for the both of you to air everything out. Peggy is sinking her claws in him and it isn’t too long before they get stuck. Just talk to him.” You nodded silently, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever have the courage to.

—

Emptiness.

It’s all you seemed to feel today. Following you around was a dark cloud, looming over you. Wishing you could be anywhere but your own body. Nothing in particular happened to make you deserve the feeling you were granted with. It just so happened to be one of those days.

From the moment you got out of bed — or rather stayed in bed until four in the afternoon, you felt like anything you would have done just didn’t feel enough. The feeling was fleeting, never staying for more than a day or so, but it made the day drag on. Never ending.

Your muscles sore, body aching from the lack of activity your presumed. Or maybe you had built it in your head too.

Thankfully for you, Nat was busy helping Bucky move into his new place the entire day. She asked if you wanted to help, but mentally you didn’t feel you would be useful for anyone. Simply, telling her you would hang back, claiming you had another an essay to write.

Which you did, you weren’t completely lying, but there was more than your sour mood to blame for your dismissal of social interaction.

You hated to be that girl, the one who needed the presence of men. Specifically, the company of one very beautiful, blue eyed one.

His absence in your life the past few weeks felt heavier on you than you thought it would. You knew from Sam’s intel he had been hanging out with Peggy more and more. He said the two of them were getting close, mercifully sparing you the details.

You hated it’s you’d become. A girl so damn struck over a boy who was giving his attention elsewhere. Upset you were though. Before even if he was busy between classes and his internship at the gallery, he would still text to check up on you.

Now, it was nothing but radio silence letting you draw conclusions on your own. Very, very dangerous territory for you to travel to.

Steve and you are just friends. Get. Over. It.

You thought you’d be alone the rest of the Saturday, especially since it was nearly midnight. Figuring Nat was staying over at Bucky’s and Wanda leaving earlier in early hours of the morning to see her boyfriend for the entire weekend.

Then, an incredibly drunk Steve stumbled into your quaint apartment, the thoughtfully sweetness in him blubbering out with the alcohol flooding through his system. It was like he was on overdrive. More than ready to crash at any given moment.

You had enough when Steve started shamelessly raiding your kitchen, but you remained on the couch attempting to maintain some distance between the two of you. He had a history of being incredibly handsy whenever he had bit too much to drink.

Stumbling his way over to you, almost tripping on the rug, until he was basically cuddling up to your side. His arms latched tightly around you, pulling you into him. Not spared a choice, not that you’d want one.

The security of being wrapped up to him wasn’t something you ever grew tired of. You don’t think there would ever be a time you would ever be capable of turning him away.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” His soft tone, penetrating the tiny resistance you held towards him. “Me too. I was starting to think you disappeared on me, bubba.”

“Never.” His iron grip holding so tight like he was afraid you’d slip right through.

“Is everything alright?” Trying to pull from him, but Steve seemed unable to let you go. You whispered in his ear, caressing his back.

“I think so.”

“Here, let me grab you cup of joe and some water. Okay? I’ll be right back.” Leaving him a kiss on the cheek, before heading him into the kitchen.

If you had been around him recently, perhaps you would be more in tune with how he was feeling. Then the guilt sept in.

“Sweetheart, do you know where the phone charger is? It’s not by the recliner.” You heard him shout, trying to stop your heart from hammering into your stomach.

Just make him some coffee, sober him up, until he crashes.

Steve always seemed to be a lightweight and somehow whenever he did decide to drink he always found himself routing his way into your home. You thought it was simply for accident alone. The bar he frequented at was only a few block from you.

The past few times he would just stumble into your bedroom, immediately passing out in your soft, silky sheet. Now, he seemed to have more pressing matters at hand.

“Check the drawers, Stevie. I think there’s one you left around here somewhere.” You grabbed the filters and the grounds out, brewing the coffee. Soon, with a black cup of coffee and a water bottle in hand you took note of just how quite he was being.

He was never this silent and it was freaking you out.

“Are you sure you’re o-”

Just like that.

Fuck.

Hunched over, practically on his knees, he read over the endless letters you wrote about him. Confessions never meant to be seen by him. You lost track of how many you had written over the past few years once realized how irrevocably in love with him you are.

He didn’t realize you had found him and you were suddenly paralyzed. Unaware of your presence he continued to read through them and his expression was unrecognizable. One you’d never seen from him before, and you didn’t quite know how to react.

No. He wasn’t grimacing nor did he seem to be elated either. He just stood there just like you, afraid what would happen next.

What did this mean for the two of you? Your entire relationship was purely riding on whatever happened next.

Softly, with a gentle hand, he sifted through them all like he was looking for something specifically. Steve let them fall to the hardwood floors as your shaking hands could no longer support the weight of the dainty coffee cup he had actually sculpted himself.

The glass shattering everywhere, several pieces making their way towards him, thankfully not fiercely enough to penetrate his skin.

Truly, you had never been more sorry than when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. Because of you.

You didn’t have to be told, you already knew.

Carefully, Steve stood up making his way over to you around the shattered mug. Still you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Simply just watching him until he was right in front of you — more silent than you’d ever seen him before.

“Those were about me. Weren’t they?” You nodded having no reason to lie other than to protect yourself from a rejection you been hoping to spare yourself from.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. Or at all really.” Your resolve dropping instantly when Steve took a step further gripping by your hips, pulling you closer.

“Why not?” He questioned you, again. Almost like he needed a verbal affirmation of every secret he had just read.

Unintentionally, stealing your soul served for him on a silver platter.

“I know how you’d feel about me, Steve. It’s not how I want it to be and it’s okay.” You remove yourself from him, traveling to the other side of the living room. Suddenly, the apartment seemed suffocating with him in it. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Hearing him sigh in frustration only furthered your immense feeling of being a burden to him.

You’re just one more obstacle he has to deal with.

“One of them dated back for over two years ago. Two fucking years.” His harsh tone, piercing through you like a knife.

“I know. I should have told you.” You whispered, wishing you could disappear into any abyss that would take you. Deeply wishing you just didn’t have to endure for the rest of this conversation. Wishing you could have stopped him from opening that stupid drawer. “I tell you everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about this. Look at how you’re reacting? How could you blame me when every fear I have about this is justified?”

You really should have kept those elsewhere, not your open, public living room.

“Because it’s us. I’m always here for you.” He was still crying through broken words and you didn’t know why. Almost like you had shattered his resolve and his control leaving with it.

“Not lately. You’ve been otherwise occupied.” Suddenly find the plant in the corner of the room. It certainly weren’t trying to distract yourself from the insatiable cerulean eyes.

The breathtaking british woman wasn’t even here and as soon as she was brought up — there was a wall. Seperating, you from whatever was between the two of you.

“This isn’t my fault. You never said anything. How was I supposed to know you feel that way about me?” He tried to make his way towards you but you just stalked off in the other direction. Circling around the living room like a coward.

“It didn’t matter though, did it? You found someone perfect for you regardless of how you feel.” God, you wish he would just leave so you could let the dam break.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Since the moment I met you I only had eyes for you, but you never seemed like you were interested. So, I dropped it. Okay? You never left me a crumb to think you would ever want to be more than just friends.”

“You were my best friend. You still are. No matter how I felt, it could never outweigh the need I have for you to be in my life.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Trying to figure out what was next for the both of you. Steve always had to initiate and this time was no different.

“Peggy told me tonight she wants to be exclusive.” His confession washing over you like a ton of bricks. Crushing you.

You really couldn’t have any ill feeling towards her, she was just doing what you lacked the courage and the tenacity to do.

“But I didn’t really know what to do.” He took quiet steps towards you, not wanting to spook you. He voice not no longer held the a warmth of teddy bear, but a man on a mission rather took over.

Steve kept quiet until he had you backed up into a corner, no escape route in vision for you.

“’Cause there’s this other beautiful woman, absolutely breathtaking — and I just I really needed to know how she felt. If I had known before, I never would have gone anywhere else.” His hand caressing your soft, plump lips. Pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb, sending you into a frenzy.

“Then, I just wanted to forget about everything until Sam called me. Three beers deep, when he told me of a drawer filled with letters I should take a look at.” You could feel his breath on you, temple pressed against yours.

“I just need to hear you say it. Just once.” Taking it a step forward, intertwining your finger with his own.

“I love you.” It was all he needed as he sealed his own affirmation with a sweet kiss, inking your lips with all of his love.

#for the love of god let these tags work :/#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #college!steve rogers #au #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

704 notes · View notes

pochiperpe90 · 3 years

Text

[L’Officiel Hommes] Luca Marinelli, rising star of Italian cinema

To win his first film role, Luca Marinelli agreed to put on sixteen kilos. For the second, he had to shave his whole body and learn to walk in heels more than eight inches high.

"If I believe in the part, there is nothing I'm not willing to do," says the twenty-six-year-old protagonist of ‘The Solitude of Prime Numbers’, the film by Saverio Costanzo presented at last year's edition of the Venice Film Festival.

To play the role of a boy devoured by guilt due to an accident that happened to his sister, Marinelli did not hesitate to ruin his athletic physique by gorging himself on fats and carbohydrates, and giving up any activity for three months. As soon as he could, he started running again to lose the extra pounds. Between football and swimming he has always been used to playing sports. But the forced immobility had atrophied his muscles, and at the end of the first runs he ended up vomiting his soul from the effort. After a month of intense exercise, however, he had already lost the extra pounds.

"Changing your body makes you feel more vulnerable and you become prey to irrational fears: when I was fat I was afraid of dying every time I took the stairs, when I was hairless I was afraid that my eyebrows would never grow back," says the actor while he eats a salad sitting at the bar of the Palazzo della Triennale in Milan. "But it's always a very interesting experience", he continues, absently stroking the hairs on his forearm, still growing since the end of the shooting of “L’ultimo terrestre”, a film that will be released next year by Gipi, an Italian illustrator making his debut behind the movie camera. It’s a love story set against the backdrop of an invasion of extraterrestrials, in which Marinelli plays the role of a transvestite friend of the protagonist. To prepare for the part, the actor watched dozens of crossdresser and transgender footage and had to practice for hours walking with extravagant stilts instead of shoes.

“I was told that, as a woman, I move well and I'm quite beautiful. In short, the experience gave me a certain satisfaction”, he jokes, winking with gray-blue eyes.

Compared to the film debut of ‘Solitude of Prime Numbers’, this new film offers him a smaller role and visibility. But Marinelli is not concerned about this. He knows he was very lucky to end on the red carpet of one of the most important festivals in the world with the first film. And he would almost feel calmer if his career were to continue more gradually.

"It was so lightning fast that I was not prepared. Venice was a wonderful experience but I was in panic. In the evening I came home with a terrible headache, I felt like I had two tight screws in my skull. I almost felt at fault to start out so great. And now I'm happy to start again slowly”.

Marinelli finished high school in 2006 and three years later graduated from the Silvio D'Amico Academy of Dramatic Art in Rome. Before being chosen by Costanzo for the feature film that gave him notoriety with the public, he had already played several roles in the theater with directors such as Carlo Cecchi and Michele Monetta. His father, actor and film voice actor, tried to introduce him to the world of entertainment as a child, without achieving great results. He had made him voice the voices of Tip and Tap, the grandchildren of Mickey Mouse from the cartoons, and had offered him some amateur roles. Despite being fascinated by the profession, however, the son didn’t feel cut out to be an actor.

“As a child I was shy. I liked being the center of attention, but only with people I had a lot of confidence with. More than being observed, I was interested in observing the lives of others. Not the present ones, but the past ones”.

After high school, Marinelli enrolled in the faculty of archeology in Rome. But after two months in which he attended only lessons that had nothing to do with his course, he realized that the university wasn’t for him and threw himself into acting, overcoming the fears he carried within him since he was a child. Even today, however, it retains some of that shyness. To the point that, whenever he is about to go on stage, he has to resort to small exorcising rites to reduce tension and cancel thoughts. And when we ask him how it feels to tell a complete stranger about himself, he confesses to being a little nervous.

"This is my second interview. From the first, I came out as some kind of psycho. I hope this time it goes better”, he jokes.

He has pain in his neck from a fall that occurred a few days earlier and moves his torso in a slightly stiffly way. He jumped on the ball and crashed to the ground during a game of "calciotto", the eight-a-side football that is popular in Rome, the city where he was born and raised. Every time he turns his head he makes a grimace of pain. Apart from that, Marinelli seems to be quite at ease, and does not resort to clichés. Nor does he try to hide behind sophisticated characters: he wears a blue shirt, military green trousers and brown jacket, in a style that he simply defines "for men", made up of garments unearthed among vintage shops and thrift stalls rather than in the boutiques of the big names. He loves to run around with his bike, although he admits that the longest trip he has done was from Rome to Fregene with a friend. And as soon as he has a free moment he takes his dog Nonò, a foundling dachshund who also follows him on tour, and takes him around the capital for long walks in the company of Sandy, the dog who lives in his parents' house.

Even though he’s aware of the difficulties and uncertainties he risks facing in his profession, he speaks of his dreams with passion and without anguish. He would like to pursue a project as a director and is enthusiastic about the collaboration with Cecchi in “Sogno di una notte di mezza estate”, a piece with which he will tour Italy between November and February.

"I know that being an actor is a job with a very high risk of failure and depression, but for the moment I try to live this lucky moment to the fullest."

Marinelli is not religious, but he’s particularly fascinated by the figure of Christ. He loves reading books and watching films that tell the Nazarene in his human dimension (from the Gospel according to Matthew by Pasolini to Scorsese's Last Temptation of Christ), because when he sees a miracle he feels the "smell of burning" and is immediately distracted.

"The story of Jesus, understood as a simple person, is a proof of the wonderful things that man is capable of. And studying it helps to understand how far we live from the example that has been given to us".

Among the dreams in the drawer, remains to work with Eimuntas Nekrošius, the Lithuanian theater director who recently staged Albert Camus' Caligula in Rome. And with Pedro Almodovar, the master of Spanish cinema whose language he knows well. In fact, Marinelli's father spent his childhood in Argentina and passed on to his son his love for Spanish, which Luca speaks with a slight South American inflection.

Of course, the situation in Italy for novice actors is not reassuring. Most of his fellow academics are still looking for work. The lucky ones earn a few euros by acting in the theater or making fiction which is exhausting for the body and demoralizing for the spirit. The others are making a living with alternative uses waiting to be discovered.

“I'm working, but not because I'm the best of those who came out of my class. Luck matters a lot. In Italy the environment is closed and there is little money. Abroad, however, it seems that this art is much more accessible".

His response is interrupted by a strange sigh that sounds like a whale song. It’s the ringtone of his cell phone, a reconstruction of the original music used in the Greek tragedy. Marinelli doesn’t respond, but begins to show signs of unease. He noted that the Palazzo della Triennale hosts an exhibition of Pasolini's portraits that he would like to see. He has little time left, but he adores the poet and insists on entering.

Inside the exhibition, observe the black and white photos taken by Dino Pedriali in 1975 which show the artist reading in his villa in Chia, writing on an Olivetti 22 and walking on a bridge in Sabaudia with his hair down from the wind. Then he stops in front of a photo of Pasolini naked, portrayed in his bedroom.

"What a fascinating man, in this image he reminds me of the bad lieutenant in Abel Ferrara's film," he says as he heads towards the exit. Then, unexpectedly, he turns to his interviewer and asks him with the relieved tone of someone who knows he has completed a business: "Prof, how did the exam go?".

“I'd give you a nice twenty-eight”, we reply according to the game.

"Okay, I accept it".

L’Officiel Hommes

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #interview #english translation #english #mine #l'ultimo terrestre #la solitudine dei numeri primi #2011 #magazine #L’Officiel Hommes #Roberta

369 notes · View notes

taizi · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your works! 71 + 72 for Luffy and Jinbei?

PROMPTS LIST

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

smile again

As a watchdog journalist, Jinbei's work takes him everywhere. He isn't always in the best position to receive phone calls. Sometimes, depending on what story his group decides to chase after and what far-flung corner of the world it leads them to, Jinbei goes weeks without internet access.

By the time he gets news of the accident, Luffy has been out of the hospital for a month and Ace has been dead just as long.

Jinbei has to go home.

His colleagues-- a group of solid, hard-working people he's known for going on twenty years, has worked with on the field and off, in smoke and fire and claustrophobic office spaces-- are entirely understanding.

Tiger drives him to a small airport, the truck bouncing along a bumpy gravel road. There's a single, hastily-packed duffel in the bed of the pickup. Jinbei isn't even sure what he shoved in there, having only made one mindless pass through his room. He would have left without his passport if Hatchan hadn't shoved it into his hands on his way out the door.

"It may be time for me to retire," Jinbei says aloud. His mind is ebbing and rising like a tide, a vast ocean of grief. Thoughts go bobbing away like loose buoys before he can get a grasp on them.

All he can think of is the last video-call he made home, over a month ago now. Ace and Luffy, pressed cheek-to-cheek so they'd both fit in-frame, competitive in all things and unwilling to take turns, even as Jinbei laughingly promised he had plenty of time to talk.

They made him promise to call again soon. He meant to.

"Don't worry about us over here," Tiger says. His eyes are on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. He carries Jinbei's grief like it's his own. "Just worry about your boy."

His boy, Jinbei thinks. Not by blood or by law, certainly, but by something less quantifiable than that. Those scrappy kids that spilled into his yard one muggy summer evening, hiding in the hedges from their well-antagonized CPS caseworker and somehow claiming a piece of Jinbei's heart from the moment he first laid eyes on them.

Ace was so angry back then, and Luffy was so easily frightened, and they clung to each other in a practiced way, as if they were so used to the world trying to claw them apart that they didn't expect anything else, even from a perfect stranger. They didn't seem to know what to do with kindness. Ace watched Jinbei like a hawk for weeks, long after Luffy warmed up to him. His trust, when he finally gave it, felt like a prize.

Jinbei was working long, unpredictable hours, and knew it wouldn't be fair to drag two children into his household if he couldn't afford them the time and care they deserved-- but after school? Weekends? Holidays? Those he gave up freely.

His days gained some semblance of routine again, for the fist time since he finished college. His kitchenware came down from the cupboard, the pockmarked kitchen table was often set for three. He made dinner at home, more than he ate in the office with his colleagues.

Hell, his colleagues ate dinner with him at home more often, too. Within an hour of meeting the boys, each of Jinbei's friends, to a man, would have taken a bullet for either of them, no questions asked.

The sense of structure did wonders for the brothers. With a safe place to return to when they needed it, and someone to fall back on, Ace stopped looking at every potential foster home as if it was a threat. Luffy came out of his shell, bolder with each new day. He made a friend in the village, a boy with vivid green eyes, and they hardly spent a moment apart.

They were finally placed with a couple who lived nearby. Shanks was wry and good-natured, and Benn had the patience of a saint. After a few weeks, when Jinbei asked how they were settling in, his worries were soothed: Luffy clearly adored them, and even Ace grudgingly admitted they weren't so bad.

And when the time came, and Ace applied for emancipation as well as custody of his brother, he had a small army in his corner. A patchwork family collected in little bits and pieces, ready to support him through anything.

"I will always be here for you both," Jinbei had promised him, countless times. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive."

"Thank you," Ace said, a little bashful. But he was so pleased, and so full of hope for the future, and he said, "I'll feel better, knowing someone's around to look after Luffy if I can't."

He immediately got shouted down by his entire strange extended pseudo-family for daring to suggest they'd ever let anything happen to him, and it made him laugh so brightly, and now the memory sticks like needles in Jinbei's throat.

Tiger hugs him hard before Jinbei boards the plane. In the back of his mind, where there is a tiny corner free from drowning, Jinbei can't help but wonder when he'll see his friend again.

He keeps thinking of that last video call. He can't remember everything they talked about. He doesn't think he said enough. He almost certainly didn't tell Ace everything he deserved to hear. Foolishly, he assumed there would be another time.

He's learned from this. He won't take it for granted any more.

"Call me when you land," Tiger says. "Give the monkey our love."

"I will," Jinbei replies. His heart is so heavy he doesn't know how he manages the steps onto the plane. He doesn't know how the pilot manages to lift them up from the tarmac. It's a wonder they aren't sinking, straight through the earth.

Nami and Usopp are waiting for him at the airport, wide-awake even though it's well past two o'clock in the morning. They're familiar to Jinbei from the stories Luffy has told him, from the numerous video calls they've bullied their way into over the years, and the handful of birthdays and holidays Jinbei was able to make it home for.

"Luffy wanted to come with us to pick you up, but he fell asleep," Usopp says, apropos of nothing, as they're waiting for their Uber. "Sanji said it was a small miracle, and Zoro looked like he was going to hunt us for sport if we even thought about waking him up, so--"

"He hasn't been sleeping, then?" Jinbei asks quietly.

"After he came home, he was on some pretty heavy meds, and he slept a lot," Nami says. Her arms are folded tight against her chest in the nighttime chill, her eyes trained somewhere far away. "But he had bad dreams and he would wake up disoriented. Now he fights sleep tooth and nail."

"We've all sort of become the insomnia squad," Usopp pipes up. "Thank god I'm not taking any classes this summer."

"Sanji's gotten really good at making lattes," Nami adds with a small smile. "Wait till you see his shiny new espresso machine."

"I'm like eight-five percent sure he stole it from the Baratie."

Jinbei listens to their chatter, feeling at once anchored by them and adrift at sea. It makes sense that they would be ahead of him. They've been here all this time, practically from the moment of the accident, facing it with all the bravery and endurance of sailors in a typhoon. Jinbei, meanwhile, had been living in an unchanged world.

For the last month, Ace has been dead. How many times had Jinbei thought about him? Mentioned him to a friend? How many times had Jinbei wrongly said his name in the present-tense?

The house is warmly-lit when they arrive, but quiet. An old blue Irish wolfhound greets them at the door, wagging his tail. Robin looks up from the papers she has spread out on the coffee table and smiles. Chopper is fast asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder. Behind them, Jinbei can see Sanji at work in the kitchen, shaping dough. Something is baking that smells of cinnamon and apples.

They weren't kidding about their sleep schedules being a mess.

"Hello, Jinbei. It's good to see you," Robin says. Her voice is soft, in deference to the sleeping teenager. "Luffy is asleep, but you can see him if you like."

"Please," Jinbei replies hoarsely.

"I'll take him," Nami says. "Usopp, would you bring his bag to the guest bedroom?"

"'Course," Usopp replies, but he makes a detour into the kitchen first.

Nami takes Jinbei's hand and leads him toward the stairs. "I feel really stupid about this, but I was so angry at you," she admits as they make their way up. "It's hardly the first time we haven't been able to contact you, and I know why that is. But-- I don't know, I think I was going crazy. I wanted Luffy to have everything he wanted. I wanted everyone who loved him to be here every time he woke up. So I-- so there might be some angry emails waiting for you, but please don't hate me for it."

"I won't even read them," Jinbei promises gravely, his heart cleaved clean in two. "I can't imagine how-- how hard it must have been. I-- if I had gotten the messages sooner-- "

"I know," Nami assures him, pausing outside a closed bedroom door. "Franky spoke to you like six hours ago, and you're already here. You dropped everything to be here. We know the kind of person you are."

She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Jinbei bends to accommodate her, the same way he does for Koala. Then Nami reaches out and pushes open the door.

Zoro is awake, sitting against the headboard with his phone in hand and earphones in, and his eyes are as bright and sharp now as they were when he was a child. He looks up when the door opens, and seems to relax when he sees Jinbei stepping in behind Nami.

"Go to sleep," Nami whispers, pointing at the second bed across the spacious room.

"Don't tell me what to do," Zoro replies, just as quiet, but he pulls his earphones out and extracts himself from the bed with all the exacting precision of a bomb disposal technician. Nami takes him by the arm, helping him get up so carefully that the mattress hardly moves. It's such a well-practiced maneuver that Jinbei thinks he honestly might cry.

"If one of you would stay for a bit, I'll grab a shower," Zoro says.

"Sure, stinky," Nami says, nudging him toward the door. "Jinbei?"

He nods, unsure of what he's agreeing to. Now that he's finally next to Luffy, nothing else seems to exist. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, only half-aware of Nami and Zoro leaving. Their murmured conversation is cut off by the closing door. The room is silent, save for the gentle, unobtrusive sound of Luffy's steady breathing.

He's lost weight since Jinbei saw him last. There are shadows on his face that don't belong there. He looks both older and younger than he has any right to, even now, when his face is untroubled and slack with sleep.

"Hello, little monkey," Jinbei says. His voice is quiet, but it still breaks. He's crying, he realizes, thick tears rolling down his face with abandon. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He thinks of two little boys, spilling into his life on accident, taking up room in his home and his heart as if they always belonged there. They weren't his, not really, but he loved them anyway. Loves them still.

"I'm here now," he whispers. His hands are shaking. "I'm going to protect you, like I promised. I'm here, Ace. Please believe me, wherever you are. I won't fail you again."

#one piece #op #opfic #knight of the sea jimbei #cat burglar nami #god usopp #my writing #smile again #i woke up and chose violence #but i mean a couple people were wondering where jimbei was so u brought this upon urselves

34 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Iridescent

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader/Female OC | Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst | NC-17 | Soulmate AU, Childhood-Friends-Become-Lovers AU

An epilogue to Monochrome. Contains HEAVY SPOILERS, so please read Monochrome and Spectra before you read this.

Summary: Lee Donghyuck once believed in the concept of soulmates—how fate would connect a red thread from one lover to another, in a form of dreams and memories. That was how his parents met, that was how they claimed their happiness, and he wanted nothing more but to live his life the way they lived theirs. Until one day, as he sees her slipping away from his hands, he has no choice but to stop believing entirely.

Broken bones can be mended and bruises may vanish over time, but what befell Lee Donghyuck after the accident was deeper than fractures and scars. It took him five days to wake up from his comatose sleep, eight months for his body to fully recuperate, and another ten months in rehabilitation to overcome his trauma and mental state. But even then, he was never the same. He would never be the same.

As he could never be able to see the light again.

“Vision loss may strike as a devastating injury that could change your life,” his doctor once said during his regular check-up, “But it doesn’t mean that your life has ended, nor should you stop living. There’s still a beautiful world out there waiting for you. It may feel hard today or tomorrow, but you will get through this. You will get better.”

But to Donghyuck, they sounded like a string of murmurs as if the older man was drowning but still trying to mouth the words to him. Or maybe he was the one who was drowning instead, with no chance to resurface. And he didn’t mind, not at all. He wasn’t sure he had the will to do it anyway.

A gentle caress of warm fingertips and a voice as smooth as a lullaby to a child’s ears were the only ones who kept him sane. She was there, from the very first day he’d opened his eyes and seen nothing, and she continued to stay, no matter how much he’d cried in agony or screamed from bottled-up anger. She would hug him when the thought of hurting himself became too much to bear, and she would tell him over and over again, how lucky she was to have him alive and breathing in her arms. And she would still call him in the same way—Haechannie, Haechannie—between loving words that were filled with nothing but honesty, even if he no longer shone as bright as the sun.

She was the sole reason why he continued living, though not truly alive. The only one who gave comfort to his shattered heart and soul. To him, there would be no life without her.

On the day he was discharged from the hospital, dressed in his favorite white tee and a knitted navy-blue sweater she often borrowed to wear around her figure, his chocolate brown hair was long and untrimmed, nearly brushing against his collar. His skin was starting to lose its beautiful tan, and his collar bones were protruding from how much he had lost weight during his recovery. His matching dark eyes were slightly opened and they shone in a soft glow under the sun, but they were as lifeless as the waves before the storm.

But to her, he was still a sight to behold.

Pushing his bangs out of his eyes with her fingertips, she smiled. “I haven’t seen you standing under the sun for a long time,” she said, mesmerized by the way his hair was fluttering under the wind. “My Haechannie is so pretty.”

He responded by kissing her inner palm and they hugged once before she accompanied him walking down the stairs.

“One step at a time, okay, Haechannie?”

Her voice was always warm, always filled with the passion of life, as if she was trying hard to be happy for his sake as well. And it made him feel various emotions at once, from the elation of having someone as patient and loving as her nurture him back to health, from agony for being the one who always caused her trouble, and from fear of losing her if one day she woke up and decided to not love him again.

“Don’t let go of my hand. I’m here with you, Haechannie. I always will be.”

Her promise found its way to his heart, and instead of making him feel drowned like anybody else, she was the one who pulled him out of the water.

“I won’t,” Donghyuck said, tattered voice escaping chapped lips. “As long as you’d let me.”

He couldn’t see her smile, but he could somehow sense it in the way she let out her breath, in the way she squeezed his hand, in every time she spoke his name.

“I got permission from your parents to take you somewhere today before we head back home,” she mentioned before a small, excited giggle tumbled down her lips. He was sitting in what he supposed to be his father’s car by the smell of it, and he let himself stay in silence as she dragged a seatbelt forward and tied it around his body with a click. “I hope you don’t mind taking a walk because I’ve been dying to go on a date with my boyfriend.” He could hear her placing her seatbelt and the sound of dangling keys. The car engine soon started with a stutter and Donghyuck’s fingers immediately tried to find reassurance by sinking their nails into the edge of his seat, his heart ramming against his ribcages.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She hastily laced their fingers together, stealing his shivers away with how firm she held on to his hand. “Breathe, Haechannie. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you, do you hear me?”

It reminded him of their old days when she tried to protect him with a plastic sword from the monster that hid under his bed. She still had the same effects on him as to how she did back then, clouding his entire mind with the feeling of safety and assurance.

He followed her guidance and tried to smile even when his throat felt like burning and his heart trying to find its way to leap out of his chest. “I’ll—” he swallowed when an inevitable crack appeared in his voice. “I’ll be fine.”

There was a pause and he desperately wanted to see what kind of expression she had on her face, but the thought went away when he felt a pair of lips meeting his in a soft, chaste kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding somewhat shy when she parted away but close enough for him to feel her breath on his face. “I know you’re shaking in fear and a kiss would probably be the last thing you wanted right now, but…” She brushed her thumb along his lower lip, yearning for him. “I really miss you.”

Given the situation, perhaps it wasn’t the right thing to do but to him, it was exactly what he needed. She made him feel wanted, made him feel like his existence did matter to her more than just as a burden. So Donghyuck blindly reached out to her, searching for her hands, her face, her everything, and she met him halfway, lips melding into his as naturally as breathing.

To her, he still felt the same—just as warm, just as pleasant, just as passionate although his touch felt frail on her skin. Donghyuck was still Donghyuck she remembered, the one who reminded her of the sun, and how his entire presence made her feel joy in the way no one had ever given to her before.

She was devastated when she nearly lost her sun. Countless nights were spent with her crying with her face sinking at the sheet of his hospital bed, just a few moments after he fell into his slumber with lines of tears smearing his cheeks. She had always tried to be strong in front of him and his family, but when she was alone in the dark, listening to his soft breathing as he slept, she would allow herself to break apart, just for a few moments.

Those five days when he was in his comatose state was the loneliest, most painful time she had to endure in all her years of living. Her fingers were desperately squeezing his just to feel a slight movement and she had called and called and called but he never answered. Her life was suddenly as dark as the night, where the moon had crumbled to dust with stars transforming into black holes.

So when he finally opened his eyes, her name escaping his lips, she felt like she was being reborn, finding back her purpose in life and there would be no way, no matter how hard it would be for them, for her to let go of her sun again.

“I love you,” she whispered between kisses, finding her way back to his lips with a sense of urgency every time, “I love you, Haechannie.” Fingers curling against his soft locks, lips moving from his mouth, nose, temple, cheek, before they went back to the start with shy tongues darting only to take a hint of how they other tasted. “Don’t ever leave me again. Please.”

It was he who should’ve spoken those words. It was he who should’ve begged her to stay. So knowing that she felt the same way, Donghyuck whimpered against her mouth, lifeless eyes began to spark in the way they used to.

***

He didn’t know where she was taking him away but by the briny scent that traveled the air, he muttered his guess, “Are we going to the beach?”

“Correct. Any idea which one?”

“The… The one where we spent our summer vacation?”

“Try being more specific.”

He curled his fingers, flush bloomed on his cheeks. “The one where I confessed my feelings for you for the first time?”

A soft chuckle. “That’s right. The one where you made my heart flutter, as promised.”

“I didn’t know I succeeded at that time.”

“You’ve always won against me, Haechannie. Even if I did win at something, it was only because you’d let me.”

The trip was a three-hour drive from the hospital, and they filled the silence by recalling their memories or humming songs to whatever the radio was playing. She begged him to sing, but he was only brave enough to do it after the fifth time she’d tried, and although he hated the croaky sound he made from his throat, she squeezed his thigh, saying, “Thank you for making me so happy.” He wasn’t sure what she was referring to—was it his voice or his entire existence?—but he realized he didn’t care, as long as he could fulfill his sole purpose of living.

The evening sun was warm on his face when she opened the car door and guided him to step forward into the sand, his sneakers sinking slightly into it under his weight. “Careful,” she reminded, circling one hand around his waist as he shakily wrapped his around her shoulder. “Can you smell the air?”

He could smell the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Yeah. Salty.”

She quietly laughed. “Do you want to get closer to the water?”

“I’m…” The thought of him not wanting to trouble her was heavier than his desire. “I’m fine here.”

There was a pause, which made him ponder whether he said something wrong but then she huffed loudly. “You’re no fun. Well, we’re going to get, at least, our feet wet, whether you like it or not. So come on, keep up with me, slowpoke.”

Hearing that coming from a girl who didn’t even want to get sand on her shorts was something that made his entire body feel warm, and the sun had no part in it.

She helped him untie his sneakers, rolled up his jeans to his knees before she pushed him slowly into the water. He could feel the waves meeting his skin, could imagine how it would look like—the sand being carried away by the pressure of the water, his feet sinking a little deeper into the ground, perhaps a strand of seaweed catching around his bare toe.

“The sun is setting,” she said and he could somehow hear the grin in her voice. “Isn’t it romantic?”

“I guess.” He felt her wrapping her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take you dancing.” Her smile was sheepish, her cheeks reddening almost the same color as the glow that illuminated her features. “Oh, wait. I forgot the music.”

“Noona—”

“Just a sec.” She held up a finger to his lips as she fiddled with her phone with her other hand. “Where’s that song you—oh, here it is.”

Donghyuck could hear the song—the exact same song he’d played back then when he’d asked her to do the same thing under the starry sky. “You’re right,” he murmured with a weak smile, as she tucked her phone back into her coat’s pocket. “I should’ve picked a better song. Thinking Out Loud is way too overrated.”

“It’s okay, it’s been growing on me these days. Been using it as my alarm even.”

Her giggle was adorable and gleeful while his was soft, almost inaudible. “Is that so…”

She caressed his face, eyes becoming tender when she noticed him leaning more to her touch. “I’ve missed hearing you laugh.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitched a little so he stayed in reticence. The sound of the wind and the crashing waves were louder than her speaker, so she urged him to sing, knowing that he already remembered the song by heart. He disinclined at first but he grew soft at her pleading.

As he began to hum along the first chorus, she stroke the skin on his nape soothingly with her fingertips. “Have I told you about the day when I realized I loved you?”

He smiled, another flashback hitting him like the soft waves around his feet. “Enlighten me, please.”

“There were two different times, actually.” She leaned closer, swaying their bodies side-to-side ever so slightly. “The first time I realized I felt something for you was back when we were still in junior high. An asshole in my class stole my sketchbook and you got into a fight to retrieve it back—even though you said you got your bruises from tripping down the stairs. I felt so happy knowing that there was someone out there who cared a lot about me.”

“I did trip down the stairs, actually.”

“Of course, you did.” But like the old days, she saw right through his lies. “The second time was when we were celebrating your birthday. I wore this yellow dress that looked way too tacky for the occasion and people were looking at me weird. And you stayed by my side, ignoring everybody in the house even though it was your birthday, and you told me that I was the prettiest girl in the room.”

He hummed in agreement. “Prettier than me even.”

“That’s right.” She snickered but her tone gradually turned into something more sincere. “So when I told you that you were my first love, I wasn’t lying nor was I exaggerating. I’ve loved you just as long as you have, I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it unlike you. And I still regret that, even to this day. We wasted so many days, and I hurt you so many times—”

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, his closed eyes somehow began to feel hot. “It’s in the past.”

She broke down into another smile, fingers reaching out to swat his bangs away from his face. “You’re right. We still have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

When he suddenly became mute, it made her heart thump faster in anxiety. But Donghyuck soon tugged her closer into his chest, his arms enveloping her entire figure and she sighed in relief as he laid his chin on top of her head.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, his lips brushing against her hair.

“Only in my skimpy bra and g-string, lover.”

“No, I’m serious.” He could feel his laugh reverberating from his chest and it still felt unfamiliar after all this time. “Describe it to me in detail. I want to imagine the scenery.”

She was smiling but her eyes grew softer. “I’m wearing that red dress you said you loved.”

“O-oh…” He wetted his lips. “I didn’t realize that since you’re wearing—what is it, a coat?—“ She confirmed with a nod. “Right. What else?”

“My hair is untied, but I’ve cut it short since it became a nuisance whenever I have to go to work early and don’t have time to style my hair.”

“How short?”

“Short enough to show the necklace you gave me.”

His heart was loud in his ears, almost deafening. “You’re still wearing that?”

“Yes.” He could sense her moving away, sliding her hand down his arm in a silky-smooth touch before she intertwined their fingers. “Along with something else.”

“Wha—” He felt her guiding his fingers to trace hers and the second he touched it, it felt like his world was turning upside-down. “You’re wearing… a ring…” whether it was a question or a statement, he wasn’t clear himself.

“Yes,” she gently replied, moving even closer. “Want to guess what ring it is?”

His heart was in his throat. “Please don’t…” he shook his head, taking a step back. “Please don’t say it’s the engagement ring I was about to give you.”

But she didn’t need to answer, because what else could it be?

She reached out for him but he slapped her hand away when it reached his sleeve. “Haechannie—”

Donghyuck tripped on his feet, falling to his knees and felt the ocean swallowing him inch-by-inch, seawater seeping into his clothes. His face was nowhere near the water and yet he was gasping frantically for air, his chest suffocating and sending jolts of pain to his entire body.

He could hear her shouting his name in concern, could tell the panic in her voice, but how could he comfort her when he couldn’t even help himself?

The world was swirling in his head even when he could only perceive the darkness with his eyes. His stomach lurched as he coughed multiple times, throat burning in flames.

“Oh God, okay, you’re having a panic attack,” she sounded breathy, afraid, as she clutched her hands around his shoulders. “Breathe with me. Haechannie, focus, I need you to breathe.”

He had a hand on his chest while his other one was sinking deep in the sand. The memory of the accident—how it ruined everything he had planned for her, for himself, and the future they were about to face together—and knowing how useless he had become, to simply reduce himself into nothing but a burden who couldn’t even pass through a door without help, made him feel like his world was ending.

She pulled him into an embrace, sinking his face into the crook of her neck—a habit he once grew fond of—and whispered his name over and over again until it sounded like a prayer, steadying his heartbeat little by little with every second passing by. She only hugged him even tighter when he managed to calm his breathing. “You’re okay,” she exhaled in relief, “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He brought his hand to the back of her head, feeling her strands under his fingers and finally noticing how short it was. “You should let me go,” he whispered, voice quivering.

Whether he was talking about her embrace or letting him out of her life, she didn’t care. The answer was the same for both. “No.”

“I’m fine now.”

“Well, I’m not. I want to stay like this.” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his sweater. “Let me stay like this.”

He kept still but he no longer answered her hug, letting his arms fell loose on the side of his body. “Why did you wear the ring?”

“Because I want to.”

It soothed him a little that she answered with those words and not “Because it’s something you wanted to give me and I know how much you want me to wear it.”

He noticed her body shivering as their knees were still buried in the sand, engulfed in seawater. “We should move. It’s getting colder.”

She eventually nodded, helping him up to his feet and went back to their car, immediately turning the heater on before she carried him to the back seat where they settled close next to each other.

“Are you cold?” She asked, her voice quivering as she took her half-drenched coat off. “Guess it wasn’t a smart idea going back to the beach in autumn, huh?” He didn’t answer, too busy maintaining his composure so he wouldn’t freak out again. “Your clothes are soaked, we should get you changed. I brought some spare with me. Oh, and a blanket too.”

She was doing enough talking for both of them to fill the silence so Donghyuck kept his lips pressed tightly shut and followed her order, lifting his hands so she could pull his sweater over his head. She unbuttoned his shirt, blushing a little when his chest and stomach came into view, reminding her of the times where they spent their days raking nails down each other’s skin, exchanging wanton moans between wet kisses.

When he was left only in his jeans, she unzipped her dress, the clothing falling off her shoulders before she slipped it off her body entirely. Grabbing a blanket from the trunk, she scooted over to his place, wrapping the fabric around both of their bodies. She took his hand in hers, rubbing his cold one with hers over and over until he stopped shivering. “You really are sensitive to cold,” she mumbled to herself, “Warm enough?”

“You should’ve just thrown it away.”

She abruptly stopped moving, hands freezing as they were holding him mid-air. “What?”

“The ring,” he murmured, sliding his hand away from hers and bringing it down to his lap. “It doesn’t have any meaning now, so…”

She took her time to reply, begging herself to stay calm even when the pain was tearing her apart. Her tone was expressively hurt when she finally spoke, “You don’t want to marry me anymore?”

He could feel his jaw tightening. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes, just as much as I did on the day you proposed to me for the first time. If not more.”

She answered him fast and firm, without a trace of hesitation or doubts. But the fear that his thoughts screamed at him echoed louder in his head, reducing her promise to sound nothing more than a whisper being carried by the wind. To him, she seemed like she was about to cry, and perhaps she was, but not because she had doubts about marrying him. She was heartbroken because he appeared like he was forcing her to do something she disgusts, when marrying him had been her wish all along.

If he could see her, he would’ve seen the hurtful look that painted her face. She became mute, averting her focus to her hands that laid frozen on her lap. “Haechannie,” she eventually called, “When I think of you, what do you think comes into my mind?”

A liability. A deadweight. Someone you should abandon to make your life bearable. But he stayed as soundless as the night.

“Do you think I’m doing all of this because I’m forced to do it?” Her voice was soft, but he could sense a hidden rage between her words. “Because I’m obliged to take care of you as your girlfriend—your fiancee?”

“It’s not that, it’s—” He spluttered, turning to look at her although his eyes could only see the darkness. “I just wasn’t sure it’s still the future you want us to have.“ He hesitated, his voice became quiet. “And I’m not sure whether you still want me in this condition—”

“Why are you saying that?” Her voice grew frantic. “That’s really—That’s not—“ She buried her face in her hands, her chest tightening. “I want you—of course, I want you. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Somehow, her affection felt like a stabbing pain from all the self-loathe that bubbled in his chest. “But I’m not the same now.”

“Doesn’t mean that I’ll stop loving—God, Haechannie, why can’t you see that we—”

“That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it? I can’t see!” His voice was resonating loudly, colored with dismay and agony, muting the sound of waves crashing behind them. “I’m fucking blind! I don’t know what kind of face you wear around me these days. I can’t tell whether you’re lying or not when you say these words—”

“I will never lie to you—”

“Yes, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m afraid!” He broke apart, voice filled with quivers as it nearly reduced into short gasps. “I’m afraid of having you look at me like I’m a liability. I’m tired of trying to convince myself that I can be some kind of help to you when I can’t even button my fucking shirt properly. I want to marry you—God, I want to marry you so bad—but what do I have to offer? I can’t function like a normal person, I’ve lost my job, I’m going insane, and I can’t see a damn thing!”

The second he stopped speaking, only the sound of their surroundings could be heard, along with their ragged breathing. Donghyuck brought his face to the side, hiding half of his face behind his shaky fingers, inhaling a few times to control his breathing but failing on each try.

Her eyes began to water as well but she erased the tears before they could stroll down her face. “I’m not sure if you know this already but,” she said, forcing herself to smile between hot tears. “I know how you’d prepared everything that day. I was shocked when my mother told me that you’d asked for their permission to marry me. I didn’t know you were so serious about this. I was so happy, but even then, I wasn’t as happy as the day you finally woke up, five days after the accident. I was just so relieved that I could see you alive and breathing again—to hold you in my arms, to hear your voice saying my name. I know how devastating this feels to you, losing your vision so suddenly like this, and I know how insensitive I will sound to you but let me just say this.”

She reached out to him, cupping his cheek with one hand so he could turn his face around. His eyes were tightly shut, but his eyelashes were wet as they rested against his cheeks. “I don’t care that you’re blind,” she said, rubbing her thumb gently along his cheekbone. “And I don’t care if you can’t walk without hitting walls, or if you can’t make your own coffee or wear your own clothes—what I care about is that we’re both here, together, alive and well, and there is nothing in the world that could change my mind.” When he was about to turn away again, to be swallowed by his emotions, she held his face with both hands, forcing him to bare his soul in front of her eyes. “I’d rather have you in this state or worse, rather than losing you entirely, Haechannie. I need you just as much, if not more. So, if you could just trust me, please.”

Donghyuck laid his palm against the back of her hand. “You’re better off without me, Noona. And it’s not just because of how I am now. Bad things do happen when you ignore the signs and deny your soulmate—you should’ve been with Mark—”

“I don’t care about soulmates.” She was frustrated, he could tell, by the way he was so adamant about this. “Isn’t that what you said to me too back then?”

“I know, but seeing how this happened to me, I—”

“Haechannie,” she called, gripping his hand tightly until his knuckles turned white. “What happened to you is an accident. It has nothing to do with soulmates or fate—people get into accidents, these things happen—”

“Yes, I get that, but what if it’s not? I don’t care if anything happens to me, but I can’t—” He took a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t afford anything happening to you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then do you want to spend your days alone instead of being with me?” Her tone was inscrutable, almost impersonal to his ears. “Be honest.”

Donghyuck bit his lip. “It doesn’t matter what I want—“

“Stop listening to your own thoughts. Listen to mine. Listen to what I’m saying.” Her temple was pressed against his, her breath fanning against his lips. “I need you, Hyuck. And if you’re too afraid to be with me, just like how I used to in the past, then let me fight for this. Let me fight for us the way you used to.” Her lips were so close to him that he could almost feel every syllable with his own. “And before you regret everything as much as I did about us, accept me.”

And just like a twig cracking under pressure, Donghyuck snapped.

He rushed to close the gap between them, his lips meeting another pair in a searing kiss and she gasped against his mouth, body tumbling backward to the seat with him pressing hotly against her. He finally let himself go, finally caved into his desires, finally devoted himself back to her like how he did in the past.

He was rushing everything, hands desperately clawing against every part of her skin that he could reach, his kiss frenzied. But all of that was a mere distraction so she wouldn’t be able to hear him whimpering against her mouth, lips quivering as he tried to contain his sobs.

“I love you,” he hastily said, holding her face with one hand as he kissed her fervently. “I’m sorry for hurting you over and over again—” The way he smashed his lips against hers was both bruising and comforting. “I just—I want you to be happy,” he groaned at the back of his throat when she tugged his lower lip between her teeth, “With or without me, I don’t care, as long as you’re happy, I—”

“With you,” she immediately confirmed, yanking against the strands of his hair as she peppered kisses down the column of his neck. “I’m only happy when I’m with you, Haechannie, so—” And she melded their lips together again, tongues sliding against one another, drowning in passion.

It was a mystery to her when Donghyuck said he wasn’t the same. He still felt like flames, burning her skin with his every touch, igniting sparks of fire in her heart with whispers of her name. But even if he was transforming into an entirely different person, she knew she would still dedicate herself to him either way.

There’s no life without you.

What started as a rush of a moment gradually turned into something slow where they began to savor each touch with more affection and less uncontrollable lust. As he needed her guidance, she switched their positions, letting Donghyuck sat with his spine pressed against the seat, the skin on his back sticking uncomfortably against the leather.

She noticed how he flinched more under her fingertips, sensitive to even a small graze of skin meeting skin. “Are you okay?” She asked, settling on his lap, straps of her bra falling off her shoulders.

He nodded anxiously, tilting his face so she could take the sign and kiss him again and she did, but her touch was paper-thin. “You seem nervous,” she commented, caressing his cheek in concern as he circled his arms around her waist.

“I am,” he admitted, cheeks turning rosy. “I’m going crazy because I can’t see you. I’m afraid that I’d do something wrong and make you feel—”

“Then I’ll let you know,” she assured him, thumb tracing his lower lip. “I’ll say everything if that’s what you want to know, so stop thinking too much.” She leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead before she brushed the tip of her nose against his. “And just… feel me more.”

Donghyuck let her take his hand and exhaled softly when she pressed it against her cheek, shaky fingertips began to trace her jawline, the shape of her lips, her chin, her neck. His eyes were closed but his eyebrows were furrowed deep in concentration, and she would’ve smiled at the sight if his touches weren’t scorching on her skin, enveloping her with sensations she had been longing for months.

His other senses were heightened, noticing her scent better, listening to every gasp, every moan of his name, feeling her veins, her small scars from her childhood days—everything.

“So beautiful,” he praised under his breath but she caught it, sending goosebumps all over her body. “A-are you okay?” He asked, noticing how she fidgeted and shifted her weight. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s just—“ She bit her lip when his fingers ran along the valley of her breasts, stopping when he reached her bra. “It’s been a while since we last—” a moan escaped her lips when he slipped his thumb behind the fabric, calloused skin meeting her sensitive nub. “Haechannie…”

Donghyuck gulped, his ears turning scarlet. Not being able to see the whole thing yet hearing the sounds she made really drove him to the brink of his sanity. “God, I wish I could see you,” he nearly whimpered. “I want to see your face.”

“Do you— ” She shuddered, as he brought his lips to trace every line he made with his fingertips before. “Do you still see me in your dreams?”

He nodded once, cupping her breast and sighing in content when it fit his palm perfectly.

She flinched, pressing her hips down to meet him more, urging him to move even closer. “Present ones?”

“N-not these days,” he moaned against her neck at the needed friction. “I see your past memories more often.”

She had to stop him and push him away for a moment because she couldn’t concentrate with his lips shyly sucking bruises on her sensitive parts. “Then let’s make as many memories as we can,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Maybe you can’t see me now, but you’ll see me in your dreams. Maybe then you’ll realize just how happy I am these days, because of you.”

He parted his lips in realization. He was too consumed by his depressing thoughts that he never tried to look through a new perspective. Even when he had lost his vision, she still managed to paint a spectrum of colors in his mind, in one way or another. As long as he’s with her, his life would never be monochromatic.

So this time, he could truly smile.

“Then…” He brought his hand down, whispering against her ear, “I can see you when we’re doing this too?” He suddenly slipped behind the fabric of her underwear, sliding his finger along her folds and she almost leaped out to her feet, yelping in surprise.

“Haechannie!” Her face was flushed, even going down to her neck and for the first time in what felt like forever, Donghyuck laughed, so airy and so him, making her eyes widen when she realized just how much she’d missed seeing him like this. “Ah, you’re really just—“ but she never finished, already moving her hips against him again, lips meeting in a heated kiss as it became a necessity for both of them to fulfill.

“Marry me,” he said, breathless and desperate as he kissed her shoulder, almost sinking his nails on the sides of her hips from how tight he was holding her. “Please marry me. I want—I need you to be my wife.”

Her eyes were unfocused, just like his were. Hooking her fingers around his silver necklace, she tugged him closer before she mouthed against the mole on his neck, making him moan her name.

“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.” She giggled, grabbing him by the chin in preparation for another kiss. “Idiot.”

***

341 notes · View notes