#katgabe

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[loudestdork]

so that's why it was familiar...

[moonhuit]

will they tell our story?

[tessaservopoulos]

katgabe + “I think we should have another.”

Kat likes the routine of her life- she spends her morning with Cassi before she drops her off at daycare, then heads to the lab until 5, where she then met Gabriel at home after he’d picked Cassi up.

Neither of them had been off-world since her birth eighteen months ago- Kat stuck to her lab work, working towards getting her doctorate, while Gabriel was training cadets at Starfleet Academy. They both occasionally itched for the adventure they’d left behind, but then Cassi smiled or laughed or learned a new skill and that itch was soothed; they’d found a new adventure.

It’s a rather quiet Friday night; Gabriel had made dinner, and they were currently sprawled out on the floor with Cassi, blocks strewn all around them as she worked to fit them in the correctly shaped holes. She was determined to fit the triangle in the star shape, and Katrina was trying to gently show her the correct shape when she feels Gabriel’s gaze on her.

She looks up, finding him staring; she cocks her head, Cassi sitting back until she could nestle properly in Katrina’s neck, banging the block against the plastic box meant to hold it.

“What?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow, and Gabriel shakes his head, lips quirking. “Come on, spit it out before you burn a hole in my face.”

He’s quiet for another moment, reaching out to stroke a fingertip over the bottom of Cassi’s foot, making her squeal. Then he looks up at Kat, blue eyes bright.

“I think we should have another one.”

Kat blinks, looking at him for a moment before she softens, Cassi babbling nonsense quietly in her ear as she studies her own toes intently.

“Yeah,” she answers softly, inches her fingers over to twine with Gabriel’s. He squeezes softly, and she leans her head against Cassi’s, making the little girl hum happily. “Yeah.”

[professortennant]

katgabe soutlmate au: Meter of how in danger your soulmate is

1525 words; soulmate AU. i hope your day gets significantly better my friend

It takes everything in her to not constantly check the inside of her forearm; to not compulsively rub the imprinted meter and his name etched upon her skin. It’s the first time they’ve been separated for a mission and her fingers twitch at her sides. She needs to roll up her sleeve and ensure his name is still there, that his meter is still in the green. 

Green is good. Green is safe and happy and alive and thriving. Yellow is distressing–emotional distress, physical distress, anything to cause a spiked heartbeat and a burst of fear. Red is imminent, life-threatening danger: the prelude to black. And black, black is death. Black is a soulmate lost forever, their name faded and scrubbed from your skin and your meter blank and lifeless.

But Kat needs to know. Everything inside of her feels unsettled until she knows. So she excuses herself from the deck and in a darkened corner, she rolls up her sleeve and looks at the inside of her left arm.

Gabriel Lorca. Status: Green.

She breathes a sigh of relief, closes her eyes and swallows hard. He is safe aboard the USS Buran. He will come home.

As the months pass apart, it grows easier and easier to forget the meter on her arm. She finds herself rubbing a thumb over his name, etched at the top of her wrist, but the meter is forgotten. 

They content themselves with video calls once a week–they need to check in, need to see the other. Gabriel greets her every time with his slow, sly grin and a lazy, “Evening, darlin’.” 

(She hates that his drawl still sends her heart racing.)

Kat listens while Gabriel describes in great detail exactly what he’s going to do to her as soon as they get on the same ship. She leans back and slips a hand beneath the waistband of her panties and lets Gabriel talk her into orgasm. She comes with a, “Fuck, Gabe!,” before sitting up, out of breath and grinning, her fingers already stroking over his name on her skin. 

(She hopes he can feel even the ghost of that touch upon his own skin.)

The meter for them both glows an ephemeral, brilliant green. They are happy.

The day everything changes there is something like a faint burn on her arm. It starts in the morning, just a tingle–like pins and needles–beneath her skin. She absentmindedly massages the skin but carries on with her day, barks orders at her First Lieutenant and keeps her ship on course. 

Gabriel is scheduled to call later that night (they’re going to try something rather adventurous with the hologram feature of their ships that she knows is going to make her blush). She will check in on him then; make sure everything is okay.

“Lieutenant Mel–”

And then her arm explodes in pain, white hot daggers that make her feel like the skin of her arm will split open if she doesn’t hold it together. She gasps, falls to her knees and scrabbles to roll up her sleeve, ignoring the concerned looks and calls of her crew.

Vomit and bile rise up in her throat when she sees Gabriel’s name flickering on her skin, the meter flashing an eerie, blood-red with veins of black weaving through it. 

“Gabriel,” she gasps, tears stinging her eyes, her fingers clutching at his name. She turns to her crew, desperate and panicked. “The USS Buran. Get her coordinates and get us there NOW. NOW.”

A flurry of activity surrounds her as her ship goes into hyperdrive, hurtling through space towards Gabriel. She will get there in time, she will, she will.

Her eyes stay glued on the flashing meter on her arm, fingers terrified to touch the tinges of black, terrified that she is about to watch the evidence of her soulmate’s death appear on her arm. 

Closing her eyes against the burn of tears, she presses trembling lips to his name and wills him to live, wills him to hold on. 

Kat and her crew appear next to the remnants of the Buran: ship debris, fire, and bodies float in space. “Lieutenant, scan for signs of life. Now.”

The order comes easily. This is something she can control. Her eyes flicker back to her arm where Gabriel’s meter is fading, the veins in her arm turning black and blue and she’s never, ever seen their meter like this before.

“Report!” she demands, her own eyes scanning the galaxy for signs of survivors, willing Gabriel’s slow, soft drawl to come over the comms, willing Gabriel’s meter to return to green.

And then her worst fear comes to fruition.

Pain explodes across not just her arm, but her whole body. Her chest goes tight and her heart feels like it’s made of steel as it drops into her stomach. The ground rushes up to meet her as she falls, convulses on the floor and clutches her forearm.

Kat knows, without having to look at her arm, that he is gone.

But Kat has to look, has to know. 

Her eyes glimpse the mess of black on her arm, evidence of a meter filled in. Evidence of death. Gabriel’s name is already fading from her wrist and no matter how hard she clutches at his name, no matter how hard she wills it to stay: his name disappears. 

A hush falls over the ship and there’s a distant part of her–the Admiral in her–that knows she needs to stand up, needs to begin recovering what she can from the Buran, needs to let Starfleet know what has happened.

But she is not Admiral Cornwell right now. She is Kat, she is darlin’, she is hurting. Grief fills her, silences her tongue, weighs down her chest, makes it hard to breathe. Perhaps she needs to scream to let it out, to feel again. 

Her fingers still stroke at the rapidly fading name: Gabriel Lorca.

“Admiral? What–what are our orders?”

Kat blinks at her crew, tries to remember how to speak. 

(Did she speak before Gabriel? Did words mean anything before him?)

“Recovery protocol,” she whispers, standing to her feet shakily, still clutching at her arm, desperate to be holding onto the last of him until he’s gone forever. “If you need me, I’ll be in my quarters. Second, you’re in charge for now. Dismissed.”

She needs to get out, needs to breathe, needs to be alone, alone, alone.

(Alone is her new status–one of the forgotten, one of the lonely, one of the abandoned. Her soulmate is gone and she will never be the same.)

Stumbling to her quarters, Kat collapses into her bunk–a bunk that only a few days ago she was teasing Gabriel with (”Think you can maneuver in a Starfleet ship bunk, Gabe? You may have to get creative with me…”). 

She keeps her fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm, wills his name to stay. And finally, finally passes out and hopes that when she wakes up, it will all have been a dream.

Hours later, Kat is awoken by the sound of frantic banging on her door and the insistent yell of, “Admiral! Admiral, he’s alive! Commander Lorca is alive! We have him.”

Kat will stumble to the med bay, will gasp Gabriel’s name and fling her arms around his shoulders, ignoring the way he shies away from the light, shies away from too many questions. She will press desperate, reassuring kisses to his exposed neck and trace trembling fingers over scrapes and scratches and bruises. 

She will cherish the way he says, “Easy, sweetheart,” and she will not think anything of the fact that he’s forgotten she is his darlin’. 

She will take him to bed and hold him, cry into his shoulder and promise him weeks of leave–just them and a bottle of whiskey and all the Chinese takeout food they can afford. 

She will ignore the way her arm is permanently spidered and veined with black and red and yellow and green and the way his name is only a shadow on her wrist now. Soulmate marks are a mystery, even with the advanced technology and medicine of Starfleet. 

The best Culber can explain is that the trauma of a soulmate loss–however temporary–shattered the connection, the magic, of their bond. But Kat doesn’t care, not when his name is still on her skin–however faint. Not when his body presses hers into the mattress and she clutches at his shoulder and reminds herself he is real. 

She will ignore all the warning signs that something is wrong–something is off about Gabriel, about them. She will call it post-traumatic stress disorder when he forgets her birthday, forgets their anniversary, forgets, forgets, forgets. 

She will explain away his lack of meter with the fact that he died. She will tell herself that it is still his name on her arm and they are still bound together.

Her soulmate is here and her meter says somewhere in this galaxy or the next, he is alive. So, she will ignore it all. 

[loudestdork]

"you clean up nicely..."

[loudestdork]

"gabe—"

"i know you. i feel that i know you but i can't remember. i don't even remember who i am."

"we had a life together. we... were happy. then you disappeared."

[loudestdork]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Katrina Cornwell/Original Universe Gabriel Lorca, Katrina Cornwell/Philippa Georgiou (past mentioned) Characters: Katrina Cornwell, Original Universe Gabriel Lorca, Christopher Pike Additional Tags: Angst Summary:

He’s alive and she’s nothing but a speck of dust in space.

Alt: Gabriel deals with Katrina's death

[tessaservopoulos]

Katgabe + angry kisses

Angry kisses: Hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving each other against walls. Fingers digging into hips. But the kisses always melt away from that. They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, until they’re out of energy and are left just standing there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

Katrina is shaking when she raps on Gabriel’s door, fist falling to her side and remaining balled, fury pulsing through her with each beat of her heart.

When he pulls open the door, his hair is still damp from a shower, and while a different kind of heat starts to rise inside her, Kat pushes that aside and moves forward. Her hands find the sides of his face, tugging him down to her level until her mouth can meet his.

Stumbling, Gabriel manages to pull her closer and shut the door, but before he can back her against it, Kat spins them, pressing him against the wall and moving her hands to his chest. The reassuring thump of his heart under her palms set off another wave of pulsing heat throughout her body, and her nails dig into the fabric of his shirt.

Gabriel’s hands hold her hips, tight and grounding and causing Kat to arch into him, though she fought the low moan that built in her throat. Her anger still bubbled under her skin, but it was softening; the anxiety and worry she’d buried coming to the surface and blending with it as the kiss melted from biting to panting against each other’s lips.

He opens his mouth to speak and Kat beats him to it, voice shaking as she whispers “You’re such an idiot, you know that?”, derailing whatever he’d been planning to say and pulling a surprised half-chuckle from his chest. Kat looks up at him, at the skin crinkling under his eyes and the soft smile and the affection in his gaze and she taps his chest gently.

“This isn’t funny Gabriel. You disobeyed an order and you almost died,” she can only whisper the words, the weight of them too much on her tongue, and Gabriel’s hands are gentle as they slide through her hair, stroking it back out of her face. She suddenly feels tired and heavy, exhaustion weighing her limbs down, and leans into Gabriel’s touch, closing her eyes as his lips touch her forehead.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Kat. But if I hadn’t, we’d have lost the whole ship- and I couldn’t have lived with myself otherwise,” he murmurs, lips brushing against her head. “Come to bed. Let me make it up to you.”

Her anger crumbles like sand in the wind, and Kat merely nods, sliding her fingers into Gabriel’s and allowing him to lead her.

[tessaservopoulos]

katgabe + “Did you feel that?”

Gabriel wakes up to a violent shove against his shoulder.

“Wazwrongisitthebaby?” comes out in a sleepy garble as he pries one eye open, turning to look at Kat, sitting up in bed beside him, both hands on her rounded belly.

“Give me your hand,” she says, reaching for him, and Gabriel yawns, lifting a heavy arm and allowing her to manipulate him.

She settles his palm against the curve of her stomach, and holds her breath, waiting. Gabriel blinks, about to fall asleep again, when he swears something nudges his hand.

“Did you feel that?” she asks, and he blinks, sitting up straighter and curling around her, chin on her shoulder as she moves his hand to the other side of her abdomen. There’s another kick to her palm, and Gabriel grins against Kat’s skin.

“That’s our kid,” he murmurs, kissing the round of her shoulder as she leaned her head against his.

“Gonna be a night owl, this one,” she whispers, nudging him with her elbow. “Just like her dad used to be.”

“Are you suggesting I’ve lost my edge, Lieutenant Cornwell?” Gabriel asks, giving a mocking gasp as he turns her onto her back, kissing down her sternum and drawing a soft laugh from her as his stubble scratches her. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

Katrina’s hands twine in his hair as his kisses travel lower.

[tessaservopoulos]

katgabe + “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop them off myself? I don’t think you could handle seeing them off alone.”

“Your bag’s all packed?”

“Yes, we did that last night.”

“You put your lunch in there?”

“Yes, Mommy, I did already,” Cassiopeia Lorca answers her mother’s questions for the fifth time, grinning at her with her missing front tooth. “I’m ready to go to school!”

Katrina smiles, stroking her daughter’s hair out of her face before she straightens up and looks at her husband, who’s watching in amusement in the doorway.

“I forget that pregnancy makes you so much more worried than usual,” he teases as he comes over to her, bending to kiss her gently. “She’s going to be fine, Kat. It’s just kindergarten.”

“Oh, as though you didn’t spend the last week losing your mind because “she was born just yesterday, how can she be old enough for school?”,” Katrina lifts an eyebrow at Gabriel, who holds up his hands in surrender, grinning. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop her off myself on my way to work? I’m not sure if I can trust you to handle seeing her off alone. She may not make it through the door.”

“Oh, hush, I’ll make sure our daughter makes it to school, I’ll not deprive her of her education,” Gabriel scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Go to work, you’ll be late. Cassi will have so much to tell you when she gets home, right?”

Cassi nods, grinning. “Have a good day, Mommy! I love you!”

Kat smiles, kissing first Gabriel and then Cassi on her way out the door, stopping before she shuts it to look back at them- Gabriel was tying Cassi’s shoe, listening intently to the story she’s telling him about their neighbor’s cat. Her smile grows, warming her chest as she leaves her family for the day.

[tessaservopoulos]

katgabe + last cuddle

The thing is- neither of them know it’s the last time.

If they had, perhaps they would have savored it more. Kat wouldn’t have left without waking him; Gabriel would have used more leave before he left for the Buran.

But neither of them know it’s the last time before Gabriel disappears into the mirror!verse and his lookalike comes to take his place; neither of them know it’s the last time they’ll be together like this- truly together, with their real other half.

So that morning, Katrina wakes before Gabriel, as usual; she allows herself a few indulgent moments. His arms are warm and comfortable and her eyes slip closed once more, allowing his intoxicating warmth to draw her back in. She’d always felt at home in Gabriel’s embrace, and she allows herself these few moments, knowing he’ll be gone for months again, off in deep space and away from her once more.

Regret at the way their lives had gone, the choices they’d made to further their careers over their personal lives weighs on her for the first time in many years, and she can’t help but wonder how different things would have been if after they’d become captains, they’d made the choice to settle down together. How different things would be if they’d had a family.

She pushes those thoughts back to the deep recesses of her mind once more as she slips quietly and carefully from Gabriel’s arms; he curls himself around the now-empty space, nose buried in her pillow. Fondness softens her face, and she brushes her fingertips over his eyebrow before she pulls the covers back over him.

She readies herself for the day, and casts one last glance at Gabriel’s sleeping form, lingering for a moment before she leaves, shutting the door silently behind her.

[tessaservopoulos]

Would you write katgabe fics?

definitely!! i wrote one already but they are definitely officially on the you-may-prompt-me-at-any-time ship list! and i actually have like...three fics in progress for them at the moment? but i’m always open to prompts for them!

[professortennant]

Katgabe + coffeeshop au

Gabriel Lorca is a smooth talker. He’s relied on this particular skill to get him this far in life: a successful owner of his own coffee and wine bar, Discovery. 

But every damn time Kat Cornwell walks into his shop and looks at him that way--one part heart-eyes, all open and earnest and wanting and one part pure sex and desire--he forgets the English language altogether. Her eyes don’t stray far from his face and lips, occasionally dropping to watch his hands as he stirs and pours her coffee out into a styrofoam to-go cup. 

Today, he remembers who he is and as he hands her the latte, their fingers brushing more than is strictly necessary, he grins. “One of these days, you should order this for here. You don’t always have to go.”

She smiles and traces a finger absentmindedly over the place where he’s scribbled her name in thick black marker. “I only have a few minutes in the morning, fifteen tops.”

He leans forward, leaning on the bar between them, willing his tongue to not trip over these words. “There’s a lot we can do in fifteen minutes.”

To his delight, Kat blushes and bites her lip before returning his grin and leaning forward. “You couldn’t handle me, Lorca. But,” she reaches forward and plucks the pen from the pocket on his shirt, fingers brushing the exposed skin of his neck. She scribbles her cell number on a napkin and pushes it towards him.  “I’m looking forward to seeing you try.” 

Gabriel stares at her open-mouthed as she winks at him and turns to walk away. He clutches at the napkin as if it’s the key to the universe and grins like an idiot. Oh, she’s going to be the death of him.