#but I'm particularly amused by the idea of them having the same sorts of 'back in school' dreams humans do

[allthoseotherworlds]

So I feel like it's surprisingly common for people to have nightmares or otherwise unpleasant dreams about school experiences long, long after they have stopped being in public school.

Which had me thinking, like - as far as we can tell, the Academy on Gallifrey probably has a lot of similarly stressful experiences? So like. The Doctor definitely has nightmares about being at the academy, right?

I'm imagining the standard sort of nightmare where you find out your electives didn't count and you have to go back to high school somehow, or for some reason you're in school and can't find the classroom, you know the drill.

Also I know the Doctor would rather regenerate than talk about anything to do with their past, but...

It would be extremely funny to me personally if a companion was like "Ugh, I had a dream that I was back in high school last night but I graduated years ago"

And the Doctor responded with "You think that's bad? I've had dreams where I'm back at the Academy and can't find the right classroom and I left the academy millennia ago."

[xalygatorx]

Powerless (2017) | Chapter 5, "Everything I've Done"

Years after Sarah’s wit and bravery saved her brother and brought the Labyrinth to its knees, her daughter Andie is transported to what remains of that same fantastical place, somewhere she thought only existed in her favorite childhood stories. To find her way back home, she must traverse what’s left of the crumbling kingdom, find a way to set both moments and magic in motion again, and even save the Goblin King, himself. But who will save her from him?

Powerless is a SFW slow-burn romance between Jareth and an original female character. The story overall contains descriptions of fantasy violence, mild suggestive content, and grief regarding family illness. Chapter-by-chapter warnings will be provided as well.

Summary: Andie and Jareth get acquainted while waiting for help. Jareth offers her an alliance that hinges on her helping him guard the truth of his condition and reclaim his kingdom.

Pairing: Jareth x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.9k

"Do be quiet, they won't hear you," said the voice wearily nearby as Andie shouted again, having scrambled back out of the light when he'd first spoken, her eyes still searching the gloomy subterranean perimeter for the owner. "Even so, this is an oubliette. Do you know what that is?"

Andie faltered. "A… It's a trap, isn't it?"

"Indeed. For those to be forgotten."

"Who are you?"

She was finally able to make out a dark form sitting opposite where she stood, but no details came into focus for the lack of light. It was the most human figure she'd seen here yet, even more so than the half-human Nyle. "I think a better question is who you are," the male voice countered as he stood, making his way over to her side of the cave. "You don't seem to be who I first thought. And how have you come to my labyrinth to fall down a hole?"

Her eyes widened incrementally. "Your labyrinth—wait… You're the Goblin King, aren't you?"

A soft chuckle danced around the space just as a boot crossed the rim of the light shining down from the opening she'd made high above them. Into view stepped one of the most eccentric looking men she'd ever seen and, even with the oddities in his appearance ranging from his somewhat spiky blond hair and some smudges of what appeared to be eyeliner around his eyes, he could have easily passed for human. Had she not known the truth, anyway. His teeth glittered faintly as he sent a weary, yet Cheshire smile her way. "Now, that is something I've not heard someone call me in quite some time."

"What are you doing down here?"

"All questions I could easily be asking you," he pointed out, eying her closely. She wondered if he was somehow able to see better than she was down here. Then again, who knew how long he'd been down here. Now that she thought about it, his hair looked matted in places, his clothes a bit rumpled, and he appeared particularly thin, though she had no memory of him to compare his present self to. Perhaps that was just the way he looked.

"Well, then maybe—," Andie began, only to pause when she heard a faint echo of her name down the tunnel. She brushed past him to peer up toward the light, where she could now see a pin-sized head peeping over. "I'm down here!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to project her voice more efficiently.

"Stay there! I'm coming down to get you!" Hoggle shouted and he disappeared from over the opening.

"Yeah, where else am I going to go…," she muttered softly, smoothing a hand through her hair before regarding Jareth again. He was watching her with an amused sort of air and the scrutiny in his eyes unnerved her. "What I was saying is maybe we should both be answering these obvious questions. Since we'll probably be stuck here awhile."

He scoffed a bit. "You've no idea what 'awhile' is, girl."

"I take it you didn't just get here, too," she noted with a grimace.

"Oh, no," he murmured with a slight shake of his head. "No, I've lost track of the years."

Andie's eyes widened. "Years? How are you still alive?"

"Time has stopped in this world. With it, so has the aging process for every creature in attendance," he explained calmly before sitting down on the floor again. "Even you."

"So, you just…"

"Starved without emaciating, withered without withering, oh… Yes. And it was more excruciating than actually dying such a pathetic death." He looked at her wearily. "Sit. You're tiring me further by standing like that."

"Well, excuse me," she grumbled, but sat down nearby. "Why couldn't you just magic yourself out? I'm sure the king of the goblins has some kind of magical ability, right? Or am I relying too heavily on fairytales?"

Jareth chuckled, but the sound was weak. He seemed disgusted by it. "I had that ability, long ago. But that's left me, too, it seems. I'm sure the lack of time progression has something to do with that."

"Why would that have any influence?" Andie asked dubiously.

He seemed worn out by her questions already, though she figured he was probably just worn out, period. "Because have you ever had something remotely in the realm of 'magical' happen while you're standing still? Isn't it always after moving forward?"

"You're getting a bit too existentialist on me, Jareth," she commented.

"Now, is it fair that you know my name yet I do not know yours?"

"I guess not. It's Andie."

"Andie, hm? I've never heard such a name. Short for…?"

"Cassandra."

"Interesting," Jareth murmured, though his bored tone disagreed with that sentiment. "So, Andie, what were your other questions? My memory is slacking with my current state of health, as I'm sure you understand."

She was somewhat suspicious of his manners—Hoggle had made it sound like he was a wild, aggressive thing, but it looked like he could barely move. She half expected him to turn on her at any moment, at least until she figured she might just be his ticket out of here. He was perhaps simply lucky she'd dropped in, pun intended. "How'd you end up down here?"

"I lost my magic directly after the Labyrinth, itself, fell to pieces," he said uncomfortably and she could only wonder why he was telling her this. "Those I presided over grew more rampant and restless and some attempted a mutiny once they felt the scales begin to tilt. I thought it wise to disappear awhile."

"You meant to get trapped down here?"

"Of course not. I took the plunge down here while attempting to disappear, of course," he said irritably before sighing and glancing at the tunnel over them. "Succeeded too thoroughly, I suppose."

"Why are you telling me this?" Andie finally asked. "About your magic being gone and your blunders, why would you give me that information when we've only just met?"

Jareth looked at her pensively before replying, "I need your help. And you must know that it is quite humiliating for me to say that. It is also a leap to trust you with that explanation, as—you're right—I've known you but a few moments in a timeless world. However, I would hope for both our sakes that this is not a mistake."

"What do you need my help for?"

"Well, first for getting out of here, which you've already managed to do just by being here. Also for finding a way to return the Labyrinth to its original form. I need time to move again so I can regain my power and my control over this unpredictable place."

"I'm supposed to help you with that?"

"You seem moderately intelligent," he said with a lift of his shoulders that made Andie want to pummel him. "And you seem to have already won allies. I will need such connections and, this time, they cannot stem only from fear." Jareth's intense gaze moved over to meet hers again as he said his next words. "I will also need you to keep my lack of magic to yourself. Under no circumstances can I afford this information to be divulged. Do you understand?"

Andie met his gaze levelly before looking at her hands and saying seriously, "You know, it's unwise to go on first impressions of people."

"I do not have much choice at this moment. I need someone on my side."

"And what makes you think I'm on your side?"

"Well," he murmured, beginning to become irked but containing it. "You are not not on my side…"

"That is terrible logic," Andie told him. "Awful. You're lucky you've not been killed on that thinking."

"Indeed, but it is true," he groused. "Look, I'm putting a good amount of faith in you, recognize that this does not come lightly—"

"Or with permission."

"Andie," he grumbled.

"All right, all right," Andie muttered. "But make more informed decisions in the future. I may not spill your secret, but I'm not planning on risking my neck to save your skin either. And don't act like you know me, like we're friends. You don't know anything about me."

"And the same applies in reverse," Jareth pointed out. "At least I'm willing."

"Because you want something from me."

"There is no point in denying it, as I've already made that clear. Yes. I want your help."

"Earn it," Andie snipped just as a hidden door nearby swung open and Hoggle entered the oubliette.

"I knew I shoulda gone with ya, are you—" He paled when his eyes found Jareth. "It's you!"

"In the flesh," Jareth said flippantly, shooting a glance toward Andie as he stood. "Having a chat with your new friend. Say…" He paused and looked at her considerately. "How did you come to be in my Labyrinth anyway?"

"I picked up a glass peach, it cut my hand, and then—boom—I was here."

Interest sparked in his eyes and she began to ponder what Hoggle had warned her about earlier. "And how did you manage to come across such a trinket?" he asked softly.

She started to answer and, after catching Hoggle's eye, who was practically begging her silently not to tell the truth, she said instead, "I found it. In a thrift store."

Jareth's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press the subject. "Curious."

"Indeed," she murmured, not breaking his gaze. He watched her a moment longer before nodding and walking toward the door, ducking low to make his way into the tunnel beyond. She looked down at Hoggle. "Thank you for coming down here."

"Of course, though I might've done things differently had I known he was down here, too," he murmured, casting a sideways glance through the doorway. "Go on."

Andie stepped through the doorway and then straightened up, hearing Hoggle walk out and shut the door behind them. They then began to walk down the tunnel, Hoggle stepping ahead to lead the way. There was something rigid in Jareth's frame that reminded Andie of a caged animal wary of recapture, so she kept her distance. However, the young woman nearly leapt out of her skin when a booming voice shattered the silence only permeated by their footsteps. "TURN BACK."

"YOU'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY," boomed another up where Hoggle was walking.

"Oh, shut it," Hoggle grumbled, ignoring the enormous stone heads. "Don't mind them, they're just False Alarms."

"NO, THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING."

"Now, that's just rude, trying to steer people off course," she accused the last one to shout.

"It's… It's my job, Miss," it said awkwardly, glancing away from her. When it didn't shout again, she cut it some slack, moving along to catch up with Hoggle and Jareth, who had slowed to wait. Jareth still had an air of amusement about him, but said nothing.

After following Hoggle through the winding tunnels of the Underground, they reached the end and crawled out through a small burrow, camouflaged beneath a line of brush. Hoggle turned around to help Andie out and grimaced when Jareth stepped out as well. He leaned toward Andie and whispered, "What's he still doing here?"

She shrugged. "Feels like tagging along, I guess."

"Not fond of my company, Hogarth? I'm offended," Jareth commented patronizingly.

"It's Hoggle! I see at least one thing hasn't changed in this place!" he grumped as he began to lead the way back to the campsite.

Walking ahead to mutter about things Andie only heard bits and pieces of, she walked at her own pace, finding that she'd scraped her cheek a bit when she'd fallen in the oubliette. "Stupid hands," she sighed as she ran her fingertips over the uneven edge of the scrape and winced when it stung.

Ludo was pacing around the camp when they got back, visibly relieved when he saw that they'd come back. Andie couldn't be sure whether he just didn't notice Jareth or didn't have an opinion of him since he didn't react to the addition to their party, but Jareth certainly didn't seem to care for the bumbling giant. Didymus, Leona, and Nyle all had their reactions, however.

"Oh, goodness me, are you all right?!" Didymus fussed as he hurried over to them, his jaw dropping when he saw Jareth. "And where on earth did he come from?"

"Everyone is so shocked to see me, where did you all think I went?" Jareth muttered with a roll of his dual-colored eyes, which soon fell upon the half-goblin nearby. "Nyle. An interesting surprise."

Nyle inclined his head, but the venom in his voice was plain. "Your Highness."

"Indeed," Jareth agreed flippantly, which only seemed to piss Nyle off more. Andie made a mental note to ask him about the Goblin King a little later on, expecting a nicely candid answer from someone with such a sour opinion and not afraid to express it. "And…?"

"Leona," the sphinx said calmly, though her eyes were narrowed with some contempt.

"Ah, yes… You've left your post."

She snorted softly through her stone nose and Andie wondered suddenly if she was only stone on the outside or if some kind of magic made her stone body malleable. She couldn't really say why she kept wondering about these things when none of it made sense, but her brain hadn't stopped trying to categorize and decipher the oddities yet. "So have you."

"The entirety of the Labyrinth is my post, I recall assigning you to the clocktower."

"It was the side entrance to the castle and this place is already so disorderly, it hardly matters."

Jareth arched a brow her way. "You would speak so to your king?"

"I am fashioned to fear nothing and, as such, I have nothing to fear," she said dismissively. "This is what makes my guardianship so absolute."

"Hm," he murmured before shrugging it off. "Fair enough." He appeared to be a mixture of equal parts miffed and impressed. "Say, where might your… A-ha!" He'd sighted the provisions, but Hoggle began to make a beeline toward the stash. "Excuse me, dwarf, you think this wise?"

Hoggle paused and seemed conflicted in what to do next, but ended up slowly stepping away, muttering about being a coward. It was no wonder he wanted everyone to still think he had his magic, Andie noted. He's an absolute bully. She watched Jareth step over and pour himself a cup of tea from leaves Didymus had contributed, which had tasted strangely like cold medicine to Andie, and help himself to the leftover food. Didymus looked to Andie after a moment of quiet had passed in which everyone had cast judgy, aggravated glances toward Jareth and said, "I was thinking, perhaps the Wiseman would have some, well, wisdom for you on how you might return home."

"The Wiseman?" she repeated curiously.

"Exactly as he sounds, milady. Quite wise. And it couldn't hurt to ask, could it?"

"Not at all, thank you for saying something," Andie said with a smile before heading over to sit near the wall, where she'd taken lunch earlier. A patch of dark sky had wandered near and had begun to take over the area of the courtyard and for about a square mile all around. Her fatigue hit her all at once and Andie slouched just enough to gain a stable position and before she knew it, her eyes had shut and she was out like a light.

Jareth was making a point of eating slowly, despite his stomach feeling as if it would gnarl and swallow the rest of his insides at the first sign of nutrients in centuries. The curse of living agelessly while his body's needs and soul's unrest rotted him in a cell was disturbingly potent, as he'd previously had doubts that anything in this world could faze him any longer. It was all he could do not to cringe every time he swallowed another bit of dried meat or sandwich, it didn't matter what he ate or drank from the provisions by the fire, it all felt like lead in his stomach. He could feel eyes on him though, and knew now wasn't the time to show even mild discomfort.

Darkness closed in around them and painted the visible overhead with spiraling stars and an endless depth of black. Jareth listened to the other creatures around the campsite shift and settle into place for the "night," though the cycle of light had been disrupted with the rest of the reality around them. Once he heard stillness fall back over the courtyard, he looked up, surveying the faces decorated by shadows and the flicker of the fire. Jareth glanced away from Ludo and Didymus across the clearing with disinterest, his gaze settling on the dark-haired girl to his right. He stared at her for a long moment before scoffing softly to himself and looking back down to his tea, which he sipped deeply and then nearly choked on, before going off to rest for the night as well, though the last thing he felt the need for was sleep after spending so long in the dark of the earth and his own mind.

It was only forever, he thought to himself with a dismal tinge of melancholy disguising itself as irony and humor. His lips curved without the expression touching his eyes. Not long at all.

Next chapter: Chapter 6, "Falling Down"

[moodymisty]

I just wanna say thank you for not making you Crosshair 110% sex driven all the time. I throughly enjoy the facets where it’s pure sass and snark. Truly is a breath of fresh air.

Would you be willing to write a TBB HC of what it would be like to essentially have a female Crosshair join the group (and how everyone is caught in the crossfire of them trying to one up each other)?

Awww I'm so glad you like how I write him! I know well that my characterization of him won't be as popular (no shade people have different tastes!) But I just wanted to write what I like and maybe someone out there would like my little niche. I know that Crosshair stans are perpetually down bad which I mean, same, but I also like scene-building and snarky chatter. Send help lmao

Anyhoo, here you go hun I had a good amount of fun with this

🖤 Crosshair is one of those guys that has to be privy to everything. So when he hears that -at least for the time being- they'll be joined by another, he is on it. Whether you’re a civilian, soldier or bounty hunter, it all sends him into the same fit at the idea of 'unwelcome' company.

Crosshair barely gets along with his brothers, it would be wishful thinking that he'd get along some random person who is being shoved with them while they're stuck on some backwater planet. Let alone when he finds out that your speciality is the same as his.

🖤 But at first, it’s actually Hunter who attempts to refuse you staying on the Marauder. He fully insists that it’s because ‘We don't have a leash short enough to keep him from making the Marauder more miserable than it already is, without another sniper on board.’ But he can’t exactly refuse orders coming from above him, and so he ends up having to let you aboard anyways.

The second you make it up the gangplank and inside you see him; Leaning against the wall he spots your rifle case and makes a comment about it being 'to big for you'. And in that moment you just know this is going to be a battle, giving him a sugar coated sneer before moving right past.

Even if Hunter admonishes him and attempts to get him to play nice; Crosshair is irked with you already.

🖤 He attempts the usual; Aloof and standoffish only throwing out thinly veiled insults. It all fails miserably, because not only does it bounce off, you come back with the same energy just as hard. You're normally pretty quiet while on missions, but if Crosshair decides to mutter some sort of comment about nat-borns, you're quick to fire right back.

'Great,' Hunter thinks; Out of all the people they could've been stuck with, they're stuck with the one who is constantly baiting Crosshair and brewing a storm between the both of you.

You're more than a great sniper; If Crosshair hadn't quite literally been bred for it, they wouldn't be surprised if you could beat him as you already gave him a run for his money to begin with.

They all just wish you'll stop staring at each other like that, either one of you waiting for who's going to say something first. All of the batch swears he can feel the arcing sparks between both snipers.

🖤 I love to think that after awhile however it sort of becomes more so a silly little ritual to smack talk or be snide to one another than fighting; To the point that you notice Crosshair almost seems to pout if you don’t take his bait.

It doesn't have as much venom as it did when you first met, but it doesn't mean either of you lost that bite. That's half the fun after all.

🖤 But how does the rest of the batch react to it? After all, you are stuck in tight confines with them all quite often. Not really much can happen on the Marauder that the rest aren't privy to, and that includes bickering.

Echo finds it amusing when someone, particularly you, manages to get the other to shut their trap. The time you snapped at Crosshair you weren’t in the mood for the usual dick whipping contest today he had to bit his cheek to hold back a guffaw. It's almost endearing that Crosshair met his match, even if it results in more arguing. At least it isn't directed at him anymore.

Wrecker also finds it entertaining, but certain innuendos tend to go over his head. He most so enjoys when things get competitive, even if Hunter or Echo tend to shut things down before the rifles are pulled out. But still whenever skill is directly mentioned, Wrecker is the first one to one to try and bring up a good old fashioned shoot off.

Tech tends to just ignore it, but sometimes you can get a smile out of him if you make some sort of clever joke or innuendo. He also is grateful if one of you manages to shut up the other- who he doesn't particularly care, so he can finally work in peace.

Hunter is in abject misery at first, but eventually just accepts it as part of the new energy in the Marauder now. No battles were won by micromanaging, at least not ones he remembers. But… maybe please keep valuable supplies out of your little spats. He feels the headache brewing already.

🖤And just as a little bonus: As for romance if you ever decide to go that route? Crosshair isn’t above using dirty tricks like subtle hints over comms or a graze of his hand over your hip while you're aiming. Then again, you play the same tricks right back. It's so obvious, but everyone just kind of lets you believe you're being subtle.

But That fiery sense of snark and competition always stays, to the point that if any of the batch see you raising your eyebrows and letting out a 'hmm' before looking to the other, they all groan at the battle that's inevitably coming.

[homicidal-slvt]

"Chasing You"

-

Same universe as Stitched Hearts, Vodka Soaked Memory, Even When I Doubt You & The Canine.

-

Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

-

Important: Kitty is technically my OC however it is written as if you are her so it's still an x reader, her appearance isn't described, Kitty is bisexual and that is sometimes mentioned when I write her.

-

Warnings: Angsty, Fluff, Violence, Gun Mention

-

Leon moved with caution through the wreckage, breathing steady as he listened to every little noise in the environment.

Some form of an old lab is what it once was.

"Ada?"

He called out only to receive a distant slam in response, definitely not a great sign.

-

"Idiot. Moron. Fucker."

You muttered to yourself while gathering supplies, after being left alone with your thoughts you realized that Leon was going alone... He didn't have any back up.

"Making me chase after you while you chase after Ada. Fucks sake. If you die I'll never fucking forgive you."

The thought made your stomach churn and you've chewed on your bottom lip till it bleeds. Bag haphazardly tossed into the back of your vehicle you picked up your phone.

Using what you had been informed to do your best to track him down.

"God- I hate you."

Leon can take care of himself- you know that. Yet here you are putting the pedal to the metal to go after him.

-

Boots thud harshly against the floor and a figure comes into view, a woman dressed in all black wearing a mask. Something about her build and frame seems familiar-

"Kitty?"

Swift steps come toward him and the glint of a particularly large blade catches his eye.

'Nope. Not Kitty. That's not Kitty. That is NOT Kitty.'

Reacting fast he pulls his gun and fires at the mystery woman, she ducks behind cover in one fluid movement.

This will be fun....

••

None of this seems quite right, nothing with the whole Ada situation connects or adds up no matter how many times you rework the details in your head.

Stepping foot into the building you immediately hear shots and dart towards them. After all- getting yourself in bad situations is your specialty.

You round the corner to spot Leon narrowly avoiding getting hit with a bullet, how this man has survived this many years like this- you'll never know.

You eased into place by his side peeking around the crumbling concrete wall, he's a bit startled at first before processing it actually is you this time.

"Shit..."

You huffed and quickly grasped his arm as more shots were fired off in your direction, this unknown woman was certainly dead set on Leon's brains being spattered along these walls.

"If anybody gets to kill you- it's going to be me."

That was- mostly a joke. Your eyes settling on his face after saying that, a hint of amusement lining his features but there was something else there.

"Sure. Let's get outta this first."

••

"So- she got away."

"Yep."

"And Ada is-?"

"No idea."

"Fuckin' fantastic, Leon."

You couldn't hide your frustration at all at this point, fingernails digging into the palms of your hands until you were sure they would bleed.

How much longer can I go like this?

Lost so much... It never ends.

A need for a distraction hits again as you just have to get those nagging voices to shut up, ward away the heartache by placing your focus on anything else.

"Fucks sake..."

"Kitty-"

"I'm going to the animal shelter."

Volunteering to help out with the animals was a good alternative to sinking into the pits of hell that is your mind.

"I'm coming with you."

"Good. But I'm driving."

"That was one time-"

"Twice, Leon... Twice. I am never being in a car with you behind the wheel again. Something bad always happens."

You laughed softly and he did the same, shaking his head slightly accepting defeat- he's forever the passenger prince at this point.

••

One of the fluffy white dogs took a liking to Leon, some sort of husky mix. The entire time the big goof wouldn't leave him alone, leading to many shared smiles and laughs.

Your fingers absent mindedly stroking through an adorable golden retrievers fur as you watched Leon, an older lady steps over with a warm smile plastered to her face.

"Your boyfriend is good with animals as well I see."

Your brain momentarily lagged.

"Yeah- wait-"

The realization hit and your cheeks heated up a considerable amount as you acknowledged your mistake, quickly trying to correct yourself.

"He's not my boyfriend- just a friend."

"Oh- well that's a shame."

The woman remarked softly before heading back inside, you shook your head at yourself.

Jesus... That was awkward.

-

{EHEHEHEH-}

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}

[nitewrighter]

Hiya Nite! Still taking prompts? I was wondering how you'd think Mercy and Zenyatta fared when when first meeting each other. Would they talk about Genji or would Genji insist on being present?

According to the timeline for OW2 I have until 2023 for the PVE to blow all of my fic out of the canonical water (as if New Blood didn’t do that already...). But I like the idea of this prompt! Let's go for it!

----

"I sense you are nervous, my student," Zenyatta intoned as he and Genji made their way across the watchpoint mess hall.

"Nervous?" Genji blurted out the word more reflexively than he would have liked, "No, I'm... excited you two are finally meeting! That's all!"

"We have both known you at deeply vulnerable times in your life, but that does not define your entire character--"

"Master--" Genji started a bit frustratedly. The longer they were on the Watchpoint, the more Genji observed that Zenyatta had a habit of saying things that weren't wrong, necessarily, but definitely left no room for response without opening a whole can of worms. Angela could do the same, albeit in a cooler clinical sense--though both seemed to be saying these sort of things more to assess their own understanding than actually with regard of the full attention of the person they were saying these things to. Not to mention Mercy, in spite of all the angel imagery, really wasn’t a particularly spiritual person to begin with. She sounded very excited and supportive of Genji’s experiences with Zenyatta in their letters, but he wasn’t sure if she was just humoring him. There was only so much text could convey, especially with english being neither of their first language. But Genji couldn’t even continue this compounding spiral of thought, as his eyes caught sight of an arm waving both him and Zenyatta over to a table. 

Angela.

 This still felt weird-- Zenyatta was someone you climb up mountains or trek across deserts to find, and Angela may as well be walking out of a high-stakes medical and political thriller, and here they were meeting over---Genji glanced down at his lunch tray--split pea casserole. Kuso, he thought, We really needed to look into scraping together a better food budget. 

“Genji!” she called, “Over here!”

Genji’s shoulders’ tensed slightly, but he gave a glance over to Zenyatta, who gave him an easy tilt of the head. He took a steadying breath before they both made their way over.

“Angela,” Genji started as soon as they fell within reasonable earshot, “This is--”

“Tekhartha Zenyatta,” Mercy stepped forward and briskly and warmly shook Zenyatta’s hand, “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

“You as well, Doctor Ziegler,” Zenyatta gave a slight bow of his head, “Genji has told me much about you in our time together.”

“And he’s told me much about you in our letters,” Mercy smiled at Genji before gesturing at the table for them to sit down, “Though I must admit, I did do a little digging on my own.”

“Oh?” Zenyatta and Genji took their seats, and Genji could already feel a nervous prickle at the back of his neck.

“Most of the official sources I could find on you were just with regards to the Shambali, but those were at least two years old. Still, I was able to find some word of you on some online blogs and forums... as well as some word-of-mouth at some of the relief camps I’ve worked at. You’ve been traveling for the past couple years, haven’t you?”

“Yes, though not as swiftly as you,” Zenyatta remarked with some amusement, “I have heard much of your work as well, Doctor Ziegler.”

Genji was looking between them, grateful that his visor hid the movements of his eyes, but that prickle not leaving him. The way Mercy talked about diving wholeheartedly into research as if it was the simplest thing in the world could also be off-putting, but Zenyatta didn’t seem to be bothered? This was good, right? They were getting along? Should he come in with a comment?

“I’ve also read some of your work!” Zenyatta added, “I had the good fortune to find your thesis, ‘On the Ethics and Medical Applications of Nanorobotic Machine Learning?’”

“Oh goodness-that one was ancient! I hadn’t even patented my biotics yet!” Mercy blurted out, instantly reddening, “Er--” She took a bite of her own food to give herself a moment to think, and one of her eyelids fluttered and her mouth pinched together at the all-consuming blandness of the food that was worse than anything she had ever eaten in her years of traveling. She blinked several times and suppressed a gag reflex at the combination of blandness and mealy texture before she grabbed her water cup and washed it down with a thick swallow, attempting to regain her composure. “And--” she cleared her throat, “Well, obviously what speculative machine learning biotics could have is in a different area of robotics entirely from the artificial intelligence developed for omnics.”

“I found your thoughts and observations quite enlightening, actually, it’s clear that even in the earliest conceptions of your technology, you have a deep respect for both the potential of machines, as well as the concept of the organic as mechanical.” Zenyatta spoke easily, being an omnic, he didn’t have to eat, and he also had this somewhat annoying habit of patiently waiting and watching to see how long you would put up with self-inflicted discomfort out of politeness.

But the compliment seemed disarming enough to help Mercy push past the unpleasant taste in her mouth, her shoulders bunched up and her eyes flicked to Genji for a moment before she glanced down with a slight smile, “Thank you.”

Genji was sort of at a loss here. How much of Angela’s writing had Zenyatta read? He had barely commented on it to Genji. Sure, Genji had trudged through some of Angela’s academic papers with several other tabs open just to keep up with all the technical terms, though personally he preferred reading her interviews because those at least put her voice in his head, but Zenyatta had found even older writings?

“Have you ever considered writing?” Mercy , “I know there are a lot of published works by Shambali scholars, but I never saw anything from you--in spite of all the word of mouth.” 

“Well.. it’s different for omnics--” Zenyatta tapped a metal finger against the side of his own head, “Much is... recorded, and much can easily be accessed by date, time, supplementary memory data, and a somewhat synthetic equivalent of ‘keyword.’ Many of the Shambali have recorded extremely long tomes that are still being translated out of omnicode, but I must admit to my own... indecision on the topic. After all, we have declared ourselves as having the equivalent of souls, but what is the soul without growth and change, and what is that growth and change without a concept of thought as transient? And text, of course, is such a static medium, I do not want to pass off dogmatism on a subject I may change my mind about later. ”

“Er-- Master...” Genji started a bit hesitantly. Long philosophical rambles like this were where Zenyatta had lost Winston but he glanced at Mercy, who was chewing her food with rapt attention.

“Fascinating,” she breathed and Genji tried to ease up in his seat a bit more. 

“I am interested in journals, however,” Zenyatta added, “I do think that in that case, the stasis of text can be very enlightening to the individual.” 

“I’ve tried a couple times,” Mercy mused, “But a lot of the time they just turn into talking in circles about my current labwork...” she snorted, “I guess I have a hard time talking about myself, even to me.” She took another bite of her food, hoping that maybe she just had a bad first bite and--no, this bite was also abysmal. She choked it down with another gulp of water. Genji knew Angela wasn’t exactly a picky eater so this was plenty of forewarning that left him not even bothering to take his faceplate off. Instead he was quietly pushing bits of casserole around his own plate.

“Really?” Zenyatta inclined his head.

“Well, I suppose it feels easier than usual now, but I think that’s because Genji’s written so much about you to me, it feels like I’ve already known you for a while!” Mercy subtly pushed her plate to the side in a motion that most of the time would signal, ‘I’m more into this conversation than the food’ 

“And Genji has recounted much of his times in Overwatch with you to me as well,” Zenyatta said warmly. 

Mercy snorted. “Good things I hope?”

“Indeed,” Zenyatta replied and did not elaborate at all. Genji wasn’t sure if that was a cue for him to start talking. If it was, it would have been way too obvious. But instead Mercy was able to pivot the conversation to one of their old missions together, and from there they got to talking about Tracer, then Mondatta, then Morrison, then about differing opinions about Omnics in different parts of the world. The conversation bumped along in its own easy, pleasant way of two people gradually figuring out their own conversational rhythm from there. Zenyatta’s favorite anecdote about the monastery here, Mercy throwing in a thrilling relief work story there, and eventually Mercy stood up.

“It’s been a pleasure, Zenyatta, and I would love to talk more--But I have some work I should be getting back to...” she paused and gave a glance to her barely-touched casserole, “Aaaand I should probably grab a protein bar on the way back. But feel free to swing by the infirmary if you want to talk more!”

“I have some more settling in to do as well, but I will take you up on that offer in the future, Doctor Ziegler,” said Zenyatta.

“And you know my door’s always open to you, Genji,” said Mercy, smiling.

“R-right,” said Genji, “I mean--good--I mean... thank you?”

Mercy gave Genji a slightly bemused half-smile. “I’ll... see you later then,” she said, walking off.

“See you later.” Genji could just blankly echo her.

He watched her head out of the mess hall, that gentle bob of her flame-like ponytail, the way her labcoat was taut across the back of her shoulders, and her determined stride. Several seconds passed before Genji became aware he was being observed and his head swung over to Zenyatta.

“Interesting,” said Zenyatta.

“’Interesting?’” Genji repeated.

“I hope you did not feel too left out of the conversation,” Zenyatta tented his fingers.

“I didn’t--I just--Obviously it’s egotistical to assume the only thing people would have in common is their mutual acquaintance--” 

“Mm,” Zenyatta just shrugged in response to that.

“I just---” Genji huffed, and he glanced toward the door, “I don’t know--I feel like I’m finally in the space to actually... engage with her! Like I’m not this mess of self-hatred and vengeance like I was back in the old days but now...”

“You have both grown in your time apart,” said Zenyatta, “In many ways, you are meeting all over again. I have warned you not to become too attached to the idea of a person, or the memory--”

“I know--I know--” Genji was resting his elbows on the table, gripping his arms, “But... I do like the person she is now, too! It’s like she’s had space to breathe, to really pursue what she’s passionate about...”

“She still seems interested in you,” Zenyatta said easily.

“Really?” said Genji.

“‘Open door’ has a lot of connotations and she strikes me as a very careful person,” said Zenyatta.

Genji’s shoulder heat sinks vented with a ksssh. “I... I need more to go on than connotations--” He huffed and clicked off his faceplate, trying to take his mind off the subject, taking a bite from his own plate before immediately gagging. “Kuso-- She wasn’t wrong--this is wretched.” He quietly tongued out the half-chewed wad of food into his napkin and took several gulps of water to wash the taste out of his mouth.

“I was surprised you didn’t suggest going somewhere for better food to Doctor Ziegler,” Zenyatta mused, “Or you could have offered to cook something for her. I recall the other Shambali acolytes quite enjoying your cooking.”

Genji froze in his seat. “...I could have done that.”

 “Indeed,” said Zenyatta.

“Why didn’t I do that?!” Genji blurted out.

“It would seem you have much to learn, my student,” Zenyatta said mildly.

[dillpickledipp2]

Nurse Trouble

(Part 2)

Jeva's voice was smooth and deep, not that John was paying much attention to that fact. He was not.

"I can only imagine what you've been told." There were reasons he was called Trouble. In his own defense, they typically weren't his fault, and when they were, it was because he forgot to take his medication. Still, a reputation exists.

Marlin smiled, as if to say 'sorry, but I just had to'. John flashed a smile back. "Nothing bad John, or at least nothing I think is bad. Just some of your more interesting incidents. Like the incident in lab 404." John flushed red.

The incident with the cats. "Well, to be fair I wasn't the only one involved. If people can use genetic splicing to make cats that glow, making cats that I'm not allergic to seems pretty reasonable." He stuttered in defense. Sure, maybe trying to make their fur a more pink colour at the same time might have gone too far, but hey, he's a scientist at heart. Going too far is how every scientific breakthrough happens.

Marlin was trying not to laugh, again. Bastard. "As I said, Trouble, not bad. You simply have an interesting was of doing things." She continued grinning with that damn wide smile, clearly reliving the whole incident.

Doctor Jeva piped up beside John. "I wasn't sure what a cat was when I was first told the story, but having since learned; the story has only gotten more interesting." The Commander grunted.

Shifting, Müsk turned their body to almost completely face John. The feeling of being trapped and squished only increased in intensity. "I have also heard these... stories. I found the story of the charcoal bandits particularly amusing." The Commander spoke slowly in a gravelly voice. Their eyes were laser focused.

John turned an even fiercer red, looking truly of a tomato. He began to stutter once more, "Well that was... less justifiable I suppose."

Marlin was far too smug, with a gleeful grin, as she piped up again. "I'd like to hear that particular story from you, actually. I've only heard it 3rd hand."

They all looked over expectantly. "Ah," John said, "well, I was in my friend's dorm room when someone decided to prank my friends roomate by acting like cops except with water guns. It got a bit out of hand, and when I got involved there was a bit of a 'turf war' of sorts in the dorm houses." John scratched around his ear, nervous under the strong gazes on him.

"I grabbed my friends and we all ran to hide from the people with water guns. I grabbed some charcoal from a friend's art bag, and we used them for war paint. Next thing I know, we're stealing guns while people aren't looking. Not sure what else you may have heard."

"John, I think you're forgetting the part where you all started stealing floor mats, of all things, and writing on doors that the charcoal bandits came around." Marlin chided, voice clouded with mirth. John avoided her gaze.

"That was Han's idea."

Jeva chuckled slightly beside him, not helping at all. Shaking his head slightly, "You have quite the personality, I can see why you are called Trouble."

"If it's no problem, can I ask why I'm here. I can't imagine I was pulled just to relate stories, as fun as that would be."

Marlin cleared her throat, replacing her amused smirk with a professional smile. "Ah, no. John, I called you here to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime. How would you like to serve on The Yonsing?"

[shysneeze]

i solemnly swear i am up to no good (george weasley x reader)

request:  what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day? ~ anon

warnings: yo i don’t even think i swear in this one it’s a miracle, can’t think of anything else but Fred’s dramatics

authors note: this is the best porcastination I have ever tasted (fuck chemistry uno?) anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon and thank you for the request <3 

...

It's a carefully constructed routine, one that George has perfected by now. He's worked out that Lee is always the last to fall asleep, and so the coast is always clear when he begins to snore, that he's safe to slip from his covers and creep down the stairs, by which point the common room is always empty and he's free to leave completely undetected.

He knows the corridors to avoid, the ones with the gossiping portraits and regular prefect patrols.  He knows that McGonagall keeps her classroom lit through the night to discourage snooping students and that the ghost will turn a blind eye at most things, unless they're in a particularly bad mood.

He's thought it through perfectly, even if he does say so himself. In fact, he's not had an incident since the first night they met up, when Peeves decided to draw the attention of every sleeping painting in the vicinity, who awoke rather grouchy, and ready to take their complaints straight to Dumbledore until George convinced them he wouldn't let it happen to again.

Now, though, he's sure he's considered everything and he's rather smug with himself when he arrives at the kitchens. (Y/N) smiles at him when he arrives, already perched on one of the counter tops beside two mugs of hot chocolate.

"Still beat ya, Georgie." She grins.

"Right you." He teases. "You have no idea the expedition it is to get here without getting caught."

"Excuses, excus-"

He's kissing her before she can finish, her laughter vibrating against his lips until she recovers from the abruptness of it and is gathering a handful of his jumper and pulling him closer as she does every time.

They've thought of everything to keep it their own, their sacred routine and their special secret. They've eliminated every possible hiccup that could occur, they're sure of it. Everything always goes as plan and their relationship is kept protected in it's own little bubble, the way they like it. 

.

"You're not still obsessing over that map."

The boys by the fireplace jumps at the sound of Hermione's voice, staring wide-eyed as she stands on the bottom of the girl's dorm's staircase with a disappointed frown. Harry clutches the map against his chest, as if it will anyway hide it from her.

"'Mione." Ron exhales. "You gave me a bloody heart attack!"

"What are you doing up?" Harry asks.

"I left my textbook down here." She informs. "You?"

"We're uh, checking to see if Flitwick is still in the hospital wing with the flu." Harry admits shamefully. "So we don't need to the do the homework..."

"Of course you are."

She comes forward with a sigh, dropping into the seat beside them. She can't help but be slightly curious on the matter, even with her already completed homework upstairs. The map is characteristically empty for the time of night, most people's names stationary in their dorms except from the occasional pacing teacher, still up marking, or the prefects on their rounds.

It's what makes the set of footsteps tiptoeing down an empty corridor so noticeable, George Weasley's name so stark on the otherwise empty stretch of enchanted parchment. Hermione frowns at it curiously and points.

"What is George doing?"

"Who knows." Ron shrugs. "Probably just setting up some sort of prank."

 Hermione gives him an unconvinced look and drags her finger up to the Gryffindor tower, halting at the boys dorms, where Fred's name lies still where he is sleeping. Ron takes a minute to catch onto the implication.

"Then why is Fred not there either?"

"Maybe he's gone rogue?" Harry suggests.

"I doubt that."

They return to George as his inky footsteps lead further through the castle, looping through hidden corridors and secret passage ways methodically before arriving at the kitchen, where upon realisation, Hermione lets out a chuckle.

"Oh."

"What?" Ron frowns.

"Look who already in the kitchens." She explains.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)." Ron exhales. "What's he meeting up with her for?"

"Think about it, Ronald." Hermione smiles knowingly.

Ron's brows scrunch in confusion, looking expectantly to Harry, who seems to have already clued himself in and is grinning knowingly. Then his eyes begin to widen with realisation and Hermione nods.

"He can't be- with (Y/N)?" Ron gasps. "No..."

"Seems that way." Harry gives an amused smile.

"That smug git." Ron breathes. "I knew he was hiding something!"

Hermione lets out a soft laugh, soon followed by Harry. Thoughts of Flitwick's whereabouts long forgotten at this new information and it's implications. In the kitchens the pair's names have stilled together, oblivious to the secrets they've spilled.

.

George sips slowly at his coffee, willing it to make up for his late night with a burst of energy. Even through his tiredness, he's grinning to himself at the memories of the night before. His eyes search for (Y/N)'s across the room, finding them quickly, well practiced in the art of doing so. She’s nursing a cup of coffee in a similar way, and gives a knowing smile before dropping her gaze with a slight shake of her head.

Across the table, Ron watches the exchange with insider knowledge and scowls at his elder brother, a mixture of perplexed and impressed. Harry nudges him warningly, but wears a knowing sort of smirk that George catches from the corner of his eyes and causes him to grow slightly uneasy from.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing." Harry assures, coughing out a laugh. "Nothing, George."

"Alright..."

He attempts to return to his breakfast when he hears Ron snigger, rounding back on them with a frown. Hermione lifts her glass to her lips to hide her smile, only adding to George confusion. Fred's picked up on it too now, watching their little brother and his friends curiously.

"What are you lot so smug about?" Fred asks.

"That's what I'd like to know." George agrees with a frown.

George watches as Ron's eyes drift across the room towards same place as his had a moment ago, to (Y/N). George's jaw slackens ever so slightly, alerting Fred to this new development, also glancing over at the girl. (Y/N) isn't blind to this new attention, lifting her eyes to meet theirs and frowning in concern.

"Shut up." George tells Ron sternly. "Don't say anything."

"What?" Fred frowns. "What are you on about, George?"

George fixes Ron with a glare whilst also trying to figure out how he's come to know this information. He's so sure he'd considered everything, yet his brother is grinning at him like he's just won the lottery for best blackmail material possible.

Then, from the corner of Harry's robes, he recognises the aged parchment that he and Fred gave the boy themselves. He finds himself gulping and his cheeks growing warmer by the second as Harry chuckles at him.

"What the hell is going on?" Fred ask sharply, growing agitated at being left out of the loop. "What has (Y/L/N) got to do with it?"

Ron last two seconds before he's blurting it out despite George's pleading look.

"George met up with (Y/N) in the kitchen's last night."

"Merlin..." George groans.

"What!?" Fred bursts loudly. "You what?"

George groans and drops his head into his hands as Fred stares wide-eyed and betrayed. George should have considered the map, the most damning piece of evidence there could be, that no perfect timing and strategic route planning could save them from.

"You absolute git!" Fred exclaims, punching his twins arms. "You've got yourself a girlfriend and didn't tell me!"

"Ah!" George exclaims, sitting up to rub his arm soothingly. "No need for violence!"

"Uh, yeah there is!" Fred argues. "How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know- a few weeks?" George offers.  

"A few week-" Fred gasps. "And Ron knew before me?"

"I didn't exactly plan that." George defends. "Harry's got the bloody map."

"Wow." Fred folds his arms. "You think you know someone."

"Oh come off it, Fred." George groans. "I would've told you eventually."

"Eventually." Fred scoffs. "I'm your brother- your twin! I should have been told the minute it started!"

George runs his finger through his hair with a sigh and gives Fred a sheepish look, although it does nothing to appease his twin's sour look. He's nice enough to feel somewhat guilty for it, even with his brother's dramatics.

"Are you ashamed of your family George?"

That's when George clocks that he's just being a dramatic git. He rolls his eyes at his brother as he starts up with a rant on loyalty and brotherhood, hand on his heart like he's quoting Shakespeare. 

"You'll get over it soon enough." George decides flippantly. "We just liked sneaking around."

"That's possibly the most goddamn boring excuse you could come up with." Fred announces disappointedly. "You just ruined my whole thing- I was hoping for something like she thought you were me the whole time and this was actually a case of identity theft."

"Sorry to disappoint." George smirks with a shrug. "But she thinks I'm the better looking twin."

"She's clearly blind."

"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you all." George sighs. "It started as an accident and then we just kind of got used to it."

"Wow, romantic." Fred jokes.

"Shut up." George scoffs. "It's not everyone's idea of a nice date but it's ours and we like it."

Fred smiles quite genuinely at this, the defensiveness in his brother's tone.

"You really like her." He observes. "Huh?"

George's eyes drift unsubtly towards the girl in question, where his smile widens at seeing her with that smile he's so used to feeling on his lips when they kiss. He chuckles to himself before turning back to his brother.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"Then I'm happy for you." Fred decides, clapping his brother's shoulder. "But ever keep anything like this from me again and your twin status is revoked."

"Noted." George grins. "Oh, and Ron?"

Ron gulps at the change in his brother's tone.

"Yeah?"

"I'd be checking your shoes for spiders for a while mate."

[writer-ish]

The 3rd Annual Bloom Edenbrook Fundraising Gala

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Brooke Spiers) Word Count: 2.9k Rating: Mostly T (innuendo, language, smooches)

Premise: Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey get coerced into answering anonymous questions submitted by generous donors at this year's hospital fundraising gala. They have about as much fun with it as you'd expect.

This idea is all thanks to THIS ASK from the lovely @lem-20. The concept and all questions are hers! Thank you, darling Leah! ♥️

Author’s Note: My first time with a mixed-media type post(!!!) and the writing part has been done almost script-style, similar to the "Not Yet Wed" questions courtesy of @jamespotterthefirst, which you can find HERE. Hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Tickets

Bonus Raffle

SETTING - Diagnostics Office - 5:15 PM

TWO DOCTORS in formal attire sit across from one another. The male, DR. ETHAN RAMSEY, late-30s, devastatingly handsome, leans against a desk, arms crossed. The female, DR. BROOKE SPIERS, late-20s, charmingly attractive, sits on a larger table further away, legs swinging.

Ethan: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Brooke: [smirking] Why does this feel like deja vu?

Ethan: You know exactly why. You coerced me into the same sort of nonsense in your intern year for that magazine—whatever it was.

Brooke: Yeah, and remember how much publicity the hospital got that year? You're welcome.

Ethan: How can you be sure our "publicity" had to do with that article and not the fact that a first-year intern stole from a large pharamceutical company to administer an unapproved drug to—

Brooke: [hands up] Okay, okay, we get it. Regardless, you have to admit I was responsible for all the publicity. [grins]

Ethan: [can't help but grin back] Touche. [sighs deeply] Let's go home.

Brooke: Can't, babe. We're the main event.

Ethan: How did this even come about? Is there not some code of ethics against this sort of thing?

Brooke: [laughs] It's just staff and donors. All adults. We're showing that we're good sports and it's for a good cause.

Ethan: [grumbles] I don't know why people care so much about us.

Brooke: You don't? I mean, have you seen us?

Ethan: [dryly] And so humble, too.

Brooke: Lord knows you aren't with me for my humility.

Ethan: Indeed. [picks up a glass from the desk at his side, swirling the amber liquid] Well, I hope you're prepared.

Brooke: [amused] Prepared?

Ethan: You're used to me being reticent in situations like this and holding back? [downs the liquid in one shot] Not today.

Brooke: [wary] What does that mean?

DR. RAMSEY stands up, crossing the room towards DR. SPIERS until the latter is forced to open her legs to accommodate his presence. He braces a hand on either side of her, leaning forward until their lips are almost touching. Her face flushes. He notices, and a slow, lazy smile spreads.

Ethan: It means [kisses her slightly open mouth softly] I'm answering all their questions.

Brooke: [giggles nervously] All of them? But what if—

Ethan: [punctuating each word with a kiss] All. Of. Them.

He leans forward and captures her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. Her arms twine around his neck and she lets out a soft moan. Drawing her ankles around his legs she pulls him even closer and he places one hand on the desk as the other glides up her back. They stay like that, interlocked for a moment, before he pulls away.

Brooke: [eyes still closed] Hmph.

Ethan: Let's go get this over with.

Brooke: [slowly opens eyes and peers at him, disgruntled] What kinds of questions do you think people are submitting?

Ethan: Like you said, Dr. Spiers... [a slow smile spreads] Have you seen us?

DR. SPIERS laughs as she follows DR. RAMSEY out.

A.N. PLEASE do not look too closely at this very badly photoshopped pic 😂

SETTING - Bloom Edenbrook Hospital, Main Atrium - 6:25 PM

Our two doctors sit beside each other on a makeshift stage. A semi-recognizable third-year resident is the host for the evening. DR. RAMSEY dusts an imaginary piece of lint off his sleeve. DR. SPIERS has her hands in lap, knee shaking slightly. Noticing, Dr. Ramsey reaches over and rests his hand on her leg. She looks over with a small smile and places her hand over his.

Thank you to our very own Chief of Medicine, Dr. Ethan Ramsey, and his partner, head of the Diagnostics Team, Dr. Brooke Spiers, for being here with us today for a good cause. Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, are you prepared to answer some questions provided by our generous, anonymous donors?

Brooke: Sure, why not.

Ethan: [through gritted teeth] For a good cause.

Alright, excellent. I will be drawing these questions at random. Thank you to all who donated for the opportunity to submit a question.

Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Spiers, you will both be posed a question. If you choose to answer, you must both answer. If you choose not to, you must match the donation made by the donor, in lieu of a verbal response. Are you ready to begin?

Ethan: Mmm.

Brooke: [nervous laugh] I suppose.

Alright, here we go!

First question: If he/she could take one thing to a desert island what would it be?

Brooke: Me.

[Audience whoops and laughs]

Ethan: [can't hide his smirk, before clearing his throat] Brooke would take her phone. Heaven forbid she can't post about something on Pictagram.

Brooke: It's true. I'm sorry for being such a young millennial needy for external validation.

What are your nicknames for each other?

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other. Brooke laughs.]

Ethan: Just say it.

Brooke: I mean, it's nothing too embarassing. I call him babe usually, or baby sometimes if I'm feeling extra nice. He calls me—[blushes and looks over at Ethan]

Ethan: [sighs] 'My love'. I call her 'my love'.

[Audience "awwww"s]

Who’s the better cook?

Brooke: Oh, Ethan. A hundred percent.

Ethan: It's true.

Brooke: I'm abysmal.

Ethan: Normally I would demur when it comes to Dr. Spiers' perceived faults, but in this case she's correct.

Brooke: Thanks, babe.

Ethan: You have many wonderful qualities that don't involve ovens, my love.

[A squeal from the audience that sounds suspiciously like Sienna]

Who has the last word in an argument?

[simultaneously] Brooke: Ethan Ethan: Brooke

[They look at each other]

Brooke: [laughs incredulously] Seriously?

Ethan: You think I don't hear you muttering to yourself after you walk away, almost every single time?

Brooke: Oh, so cursing your name and your very existence counts as the last word and not you shouting [affects deep voice] "And that's final!"? Duly noted.

Ethan: I don't sound like that or say that.

Brooke: Mm, sure.

Who is best at keeping secrets?

Brooke: Uh, neither of us?

Ethan: I had a secret once and it was hell keeping it.

Brooke: You've had a couple.

Ethan: True. I'm done with secrets.

Brooke: In lighter news, we kept [gestures between the two of them] this thing a secret for a bit. No?

Ethan: [opens his mouth to agree, when he's interrupted by a shout from the audience—]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Elijah: Nope! We all knew!

[Audience loudly murmurs in agreement]

Brooke: Never mind, then.

Who wears the trousers in the relationship?

Ethan: Neither of us subscribes to antiquated beliefs of superiority in a relationship. We're partners and teammates and work together accordingly. Sometimes she helps and guides me and sometimes I do the same for her. There is no one person who holds higher ground over the other and to imply otherwise would be foolish.

Brooke: [literal heart eyes at Ethan] What he said. [stage whisper] Except it's me.

[Audience laughs as Ethan rolls his eyes]

What is his/her worst habit?

Brooke: Workaholic, poor communication skills, yells first and asks questions later… I could go on.

Ethan: Charming. I have two words for you: messy packrat.

Brooke: Excuse me?

Ethan: If I had a nickel for every useless piece of garbage you kept "just in case" or for each article of clothing on the floor of my bedr—[clears throat] Just trust me.

Brooke: [smirks and whispers against Ethan's ear so only he can hear] Sorry, who is responsible for my clothes on the floor…?

Ethan: [says nothing but smirks as well]

[Audience murmurs in scandal]

What three words would you use to describe them?

Brooke: Hmm. Let me think.

Ethan: Passionate, caring, intelligent.

Brooke: [looks at him fondly] You came up with those fast.

Ethan: [matter-of-factly] I could give them ten more easily.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [to the audience] No, no, no don't be fooled, he doesn't mean only the flattering words, trust me.

Ethan: I believe it's your turn.

Brooke: Dedicated, compassionate, brilliant.

Ethan: [smiles softly at Brooke, who avoids his gaze. He reaches over and squeezes her hand.]

Brooke: [mutters] Yeah, yeah.

What celebrity do you/they think they most look like?

[Both Ethan and Brooke look at the announcer quizzically.]

Brooke: Celebrity? Uhh…

Ethan: I don't even know how I would begin to answer this question.

Brooke: Ryan Reynolds?

[Audience laughs and loudly disagrees]

Ethan: Who?

Brooke: [laughs and shakes her head] I don't know! I just named a random hot guy. You name a redhead actress. Jessica Chastain?

Ethan: [confused] Do you mean Jessica Rabbit?

Brooke: No I don't mean— [looks at him incredulously] Are you saying you think I look like Jessica Rabbit?

Ethan: No, I thought that's what you were saying and I was about to tell you how incorrect you were. Er, that is to say—

Brooke: I feel like you're digging yourself into a hole here.

Ethan: Agreed.

Who is the most vain?

Ethan: Both of us have more pressing concerns than our physical appearance.

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: [splutters]

Brooke: If you're going based off who spends more time on their hair in the bathroom? Ethan.

Ethan: [crosses his arms and glowers, but doesn't disagree]

What is his/her guilty pleasure?

Brooke: Ethan's is cooking shows, particularly Nigella.

Ethan: It's true. Brooke's is high calorie indulgences like—what's the freezer cake you made me buy the other day? With no identifiable or even passably edible ingredients?

Brooke: Ooh, Deep 'n Delicious. So good.

Ethan: [rolls eyes] Yes, because we all need our daily dose of hydrogenated oils and preservatives.

If they had a free pass, which celebrity would they choose to sleep with?

[Look at each other blankly]

Brooke: Uhh… Nigella?

Ethan: This Ryan Reynolds fellow?

Brooke: [laughs] I don't even like him!

Ethan: So who, then?

Brooke: [crosses her arms] I notice you didn't deny Nigella.

Ethan: This question is stupid. Next question.

Where and when did you go on your first date?

Brooke: Derry Roasters

Ethan: What? No. I took you to Sorellina—

Brooke: What, three years after we first met? No. Our first date was Derry Roasters when you caught me following you that time.

Ethan: Ah, so she finally admits it. I thought at the time I was… what was it, "paranoid"?

Brooke: [laughs only a touch guiltily] Did I say that?

Ethan: So you're treating the first time you trailed after me to the local coffee shop as our first date?

Brooke: Well, you paid.

Ethan: Yeah, after you "forgot" your wallet.

Brooke: What, you thought I pursued you for your good looks? No, sir. I like a man with deep pockets. Plus, you know how I know it was a first date?

Ethan: Please, enlighten me.

Brooke: You ordered for me and I didn't get annoyed and it was horrible, but I still drank the whole thing.

Ethan: The espresso Romano is not horr—

Brooke: Horrible. Coffee and lemon? [shudders] That's how I knew I was into you.

Ethan: [intrigued] Really? Way back then?

Brooke: [nods, blushing slightly, and rolls her eyes] Oh brother, don't act so shocked. You knew.

[Audience laughs and whoops]

Ethan: [shell-shocked face showing he absolutely did not know]

Where was your first kiss?

Brooke: [sheepishly] Miami.

[Audience murmurs in surprise]

Ethan: [sighs] Yes.

Brooke: Is that—are Harper and Naveen exchanging money?

Naveen: [from the audience] Dr. Emery should know better than to question my instincts!

Ethan: [loudly groans] Next question.

Who is the loudest in bed?

Brooke: [yelps and, remembering Ethan's earlier warning, throws her hand over his mouth]

Ethan: [from behind her hand] You probably could have made the answer less obvious.

Brooke: [blushes and groans]

[Audience roars its approval]

Which of your friends do you think he/she is most likely to have a crush on?

Brooke: Ohhh, this is awkward.

Ethan: My friends?

Brooke: Considering we can list your friends on one hand…and some of them intersect with mine. [bites lip] What do we do with this one?

Ethan: [to the host] What did the donor pay?

Sorry?

Ethan: To submit this question. How much?

Oh, uhh—[checks] $200.

Ethan: I'll write you a cheque for $200. Next question.

Brooke: [shakes her head laughing] All the questions, huh?

Ethan: At my discretion, yes.

Bryce: [from the audience] You know the answer was me for both of you, anyway!

Ethan: [scoffs] Fat chance, Lahela.

Brooke: [pointedly silent, staring straight ahead]

Ohh-kay. Next question. Who had feelings first?

Brooke: Ha, me. For sure.

Ethan: Are you sure?

Brooke: [looks at him incredulously] I just told you I liked you even after you bought me lemon coffee at Derry Roasters three years ago. [sits up to look at him more fully] No chance you liked me earlier than that. I mean, like-liked me.

Ethan: "Like-liked you"? Are we twelve?

Brooke: You know what I mean. You were such a grouch and I was just your annoying intern.

Ethan: [irritatedly] The annoying intern I kissed in Miami, what, a week later? Is that how obvious my lack of feelings for you were?

Brooke: [opens her mouth to respond and then closes it again]

Ethan: That's what I thought.

Who’s more dramatic?

Brooke: Ethan.

Ethan: I am absolutely not—

Brooke: See? Honestly, he's exhausting.

Ethan: [glowers]

Who has the weirdest orgasm face?

Brooke: Weirdest?

Ethan: Oh for the love of—

$5000 to not answer this one, doctors.

Brooke and Ethan: [jaws drop simultaneously]

Brooke: Someone paid five-thousand dollars—

Ethan: What kind of a pervert—? Fine, say it's me.

Brooke: It's really not.

Ethan: [quietly] Well, it's certainly not you.

Brooke: Yeah, but—

I believe we have our answer!

Ethan: We'll take it. Next!

What are you most likely to argue about?

Ethan: Brooke believes I could be more communicative about my feelings, especially when I have a problem.

Brooke: You do listen!

Ethan: Of course. We also argue about when she's going to move in with me.

[Audience gasps and murmurs in gleeful scandal]

Brooke: [jaw drops] Ethan!

Ethan: It's true. [turns to host] I believe it should have already happened. She believes she needs to maintain a tenuous hold on a bedroom she rarely occupies for a group of roommates who would be happy for her to move on.

Brooke: [fuming] Of all the high-handed—

Jackie, from the audience: He's right, girl, bigger and better awaits.

Brooke: [through gritted teeth, as Sienna, Ethan, and Aurora all nod and give her thumbs up] Maybe this is something we can talk about later—

Ethan: Whatever you say, my love.

Brooke: Oh, yeah, now with the "my love"s—

On that note! Here is our final question.

What’s the most romantic thing they’ve done for you?

Ethan: [looks at Brooke, who is still glowering] Most romantic?

Brooke: [glares]

Ethan: With Brooke, it's the little things. She'll notice when I'm having a bad day and bring me my favourite donut. Or a well-timed hand on my shoulder or knee when she can see I'm getting riled up.

Brooke: [glare softens a bit]

Ethan: She's thoughtful and kind and extremely empathetic. She knows what I need even before I know that I need it. It's not—candlelit dinners or what have you, but I've already prided myself on being a practical person and this intersection of—of practicality and care? That's what I find… [struggles to get the word out] romantic.

[Audience "awww"s]

Brooke: [screws up her mouth before leaning over to kiss Ethan on the cheek] Okay, that was sweet. [Thoughtfully] Most romantic thing Ethan has done for me? Well… [side-eyes him, before continuing] The HAZMAT suit sleepover last year was probably up there.

Ethan: [uncomfortable] I don't want that to be classified as—

Brooke: You were there for me at a time when I needed you most. If that's not romance, I don't know what is.

Ethan: [increasingly agitated] That's not romance, dammit, that's—that was a necessity. That was vital. I needed to be there. I needed to make sure you—that you—[cuts himself off, clenching his jaw]

Brooke: [eyes soft as she looks at him. Reaching out she rests her hand on top of his clenched fist until it unfurls slowly underneath hers and he releases his breath slowly] See? [softly] Romance.

Ethan: [sighs deeply, then links his fingers with hers and gruffly kisses the top of her hand] All this tells me is that I've neglected you on the "romance" side of things.

Brooke: [still smiling softly] No complaints. [looks out at the audience] Are we done here? [affects a deep voice] Are you not entertained?

Ethan: [fondly] And she says I'm the dramatic one.

I think we got what we needed, doctors. Thank you for helping out for a good cause. This raffle ticket session alone raised a total of $23,000 for Bloom Edenbook Hospital!

Ethan: [dumbfounded] That is insane.

Brooke: I promise we aren't that interesting.

The people beg to differ. Round of applause for Dr. Brooke Spiers and Dr. Ethan Ramsey for being such good sports. Until next time, doctors!

Ethan: [over thunderous applause] There absolutely won't be a next time.

Brooke: [laughs and stands up, smoothing out her dress]

Audience member that sounds suspiciously like Jackie: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Rest of the audience chimes in: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Brooke: [crosses her arms, smirking at Ethan]

Ethan: Oh for the love of— [acts like he's walking away, then loops an arm around her waist and pulls her close, tilting her back and kissing her thoroughly]

[Audience roars its approval]

Ethan: [pulls away slowly and sets her upright, chucking her chin with an affectionate and slightly devilish smirk. He starts to guide her away from the host and off the makeshift stage]

Brooke: [mutters, still a bit dazedly] Told you. Drama.

[Laughing, they walk off stage together.]

[obiwanobi]

I'm just so very enamored with the idea of Dooku als Obi-Wans Master at the moment. There are so many possibilities, I'm going crazy. I love your writing style and your ideas, so I would be so very happy to know your thoughts about this.

At first, I was going to say “oh, is this a nice AU where taking Obi-Wan as his padawan makes Dooku stay in the Order and the whole lineage is happier?” but then I thought, ‘wait, no, I’m only here to make a dramatic tragedy out of everything’ and I got really into it and wrote 2k about it 🤷‍♀️

So let’s say that Qui-Gon still takes Obi-Wan as his padawan first, and that’s how he meets his grandmaster, Dooku, who’s still a Jedi at this point in time.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren’t a good match at first, and it’s the same, even a bit worse than that, in this AU: Obi-Wan might be grateful to have been chosen and be eager to learn, but their rocky start as a master and padawan duo and their very different approach to, well, basically everything, make things a bit awkward.

But Dooku? Obi-Wan adores Dooku.

Dooku is the antithesis of Qui-Gon; he is a fascinating orator, has a practical mind, favours a pragmatic approach to problems, and is also one of the best duellists in the Temple. And he’s almost certain that Dooku likes him too. His grandmaster might be intimidating at first (he’s even taller than master Jinn for Force’s sake,) but he also raised Qui-Gon, so the man has seen it all and can’t be surprised by anything anymore. When he comes to visit Qui-Gon, Dooku never forgets to ask Obi-Wan how his training is going, what form he likes the best (Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the opportunity to say that he finds Makashi particularly elegant and almost gets a smile in return) and one day, he even ends up helping him write a geopolitical paper about a planet Dooku has spent almost a year on. It warms Obi-Wan to feel a connection to their lineage when he doesn’t really understand his own master, and watching Dooku and Qui-Gon, two very different personalities, getting along so well, also gives him hope that he will one day have the same type of relationship with his master.

But then, Melida/Daan happens.

Obi-Wan decides to stay, and Qui-Gon leaves the planet with one less padawan. It takes a bit of time before Dooku manages to get Qui-Gon to talk about what happened and where is his favourite grandpadawan, but when he realises that Qui-Gon left Obi-Wan in a warzone, Dooku is outraged, and is on Melida/Daan three days later to formally ask Obi-Wan to reconsider leaving the Order. It takes a bit of time before Obi-Wan truly starts thinking about it, because “Master Jinn will never take me back. I’m very sorry, Master Dooku, but he was the only one who was willing to take me as his padawan. No one else will, especially now.” and Dooku scoffs, because he wouldn’t travel to the outer rim for anyone, and of course he’s planning to personally train him. He saw the potential in him, and would hate to see it go to waste. All of this if Obi-Wan can assure him that he won’t rebel at every opportunity, of course, because he won’t accept the betrayal of his trust. 

They both leave the planet together, as Master and Padawan. 

The next few months are... strenuous. Adapting to Dooku’s teaching methods is harder than Obi-Wan expected. His new master asks for discipline, practicality and complete control of oneself at all time, and doesn’t accept any nonsenses. It’s not something Obi-Wan really knows how to do after months with Qui-Gon “don’t think, just do” Jinn. There is also a new distance between Dooku and Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan knows is his fault, but can’t do much about it; he still hasn’t said more than two words to Qui-Gon since Melida/Daan (apologies that his master- former master accepted with a cordial bow and that was it) and is in no hurry to change that.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan is happy. Dooku might be a bit snobbish, makes imperious demands and even disagrees with the Council just like his former padawan, but he also explains to Obi-Wan why his decisions and insistence on certain parts of his training are necessary, doesn’t shy away from philosophical questions about the Force or the Order (even if his opinion is sometimes bordering on blasphemy,) and is, after all, one of the most skilled Master in the Temple. He might be a severe figure of authority to everyone else, but his hidden smile at a witty remark from his padawan, or the use of a diplomatic loophole to get his way without having to ignite his lightsaber, always gets him a gentle hand on his shoulder and an almost-satisfied smile. It’s more than enough for him. 

And then, Qui-Gon brings Anakin Skywalker to the Temple.

Obi-Wan tries not to think too much about the rumours that say that he went all the way to the outer rim to get himself a new padawan. A padawan he chose this time. A padawan who’s the Chosen One.

 “Ridiculous,” Master Dooku scorns, his expression so dismissive that the few gossipy padawans (and knights!) around scatter in a second. “I saw the boy, and if this raggedy child is the Chosen One who’s supposed to save us all, we should all start building our own funeral pyre to save us some time.”

“Master, really,” Obi-Wan sighs, half-reprimand, half-amusement. He’s still glad his master shares his distaste with the idea of taking a child too old and too attached. 

And then, Qui-Gon Jinn almost dies on Naboo. 

The other Jedi that went with him doesn’t have the same luck. Dooku doesn’t huff and roll his eyes this time. He does spend a lot of time in the Halls of Healing at his former padawan’s bed. Apparently, Qui-Gon has been badly hurt, and if he should walk again soon, probably with a walking stick, he will never be able to maintain enough stamina to fight with a lightsaber again. It doesn’t stop him from wanting to train the boy, and even the Council and Dooku, for once on the same side, aren’t enough to dissuade him. 

And then, everything goes too fast. 

Obi-Wan is talking about possible hidden Sith in the galaxy at the breakfast table, and suddenly Dooku says “I’m leaving the Order”, and then he’s knighted by a master who tells him he’s glad his last accomplishment as a Jedi is something he’s proud of, and then his master leaves without a real explanation, and then they make a bust of him in the library like he’s dead, and Obi-Wan asks himself if he’s going to feel abandoned all his life. 

And then, Anakin Skywalker bumps into him. 

“You’re Obi-Wan!” he says way too loudly, looking up at him in wonder.

It’s Knight Kenobi to you, a voice that sounds suspiciously like his master echoes in his mind. But no matter how much Obi-Wan admires his master, he could never be as rigid as him.

“Master Qui-Gon said you were his padawan once,” Anakin says, excited, and Obi-Wan has never wanted to run from a conversation that badly before. “And that you were... the padawan of my... grandmaster? I think? So that means we’re sort of like cousins, right?”

“Not really, no. Jedi don’t think about the Order as a traditional family. I don’t mean that we’re not one, young one,” he adds when Anakin’s expression turns to dejection, “we just have a different approach to kinship. In a way, we’re all brothers and sisters.”

And that, of course, is the exact thing he shouldn't have said.

“So you’re my brother then? Wizard! I’ve never had a brother before! Does that mean you will spar with me? I want to learn EVERYTHING about lightsabers, for example, do they have unlimited energy? Can it really go through everything? Because I heard beskar—” 

Obi-Wan isn’t proud to say that he feels the urgent need to get away from him and never come in contact with that child ever again. 

But after their first encounter, Anakin doesn’t leave him any choice. Every time Obi-Wan gets some time off, the padawan is here, scarily good at annoying him until Obi-Wan gives up pretending to ignore him. 

He probably should be sterner with him. After all, he doesn’t own the child anything. But Anakin is always so happy to see him, impressed when Obi-Wan demonstrates the most acrobatic of Ataru’s movements, and eager to learn from him. Sometimes, he imagines Master Dooku’s face confronted with Anakin, and can’t help but laugh out loud.  It helps to forget the void Dooku left in his life for a time.

(There aren’t a lot of holos sent to him from Serenno these days. Dooku must be busy.)

“My master can’t fight,” Anakin says petulantly one day, plopping down on Obi-Wan’s couch like the sulky teenager he is, “He’s restricted to the Temple or boring political missions, and so am I because of him. All he does is tell me to meditate and make me ‘reflect on my feelings’, or whatever that means. How good can a master be if he can’t teach me to protect myself and others?” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warns, kicking the padawan’s feet away from the caf table, “please tell me you didn’t say these exact insensitive words to your master right before slamming the door and coming here.” 

Of course he did, Obi-Wan thinks when Anakin starts a rant about being held back and how stupid meditation is. That night, Obi-Wan forces him to sincerely apologise to his master after a brief fight ("stop nagging at me, Obi-Wan! You’re not my master!” “Well, apparently, you don’t even respect your own master, so I’m very glad I’m not.”) and is just a bit stunned when he finds Qui-Gon Jinn on his doorstep a few days letter, asking him if he would agree to take Padawan Skywalker on his next off-world mission. 

Obi-Wan really, really wants to say no. He only taught Anakin a few Ataru moves that the lightsaber’s instructor normally doesn’t introduce until a few years later because Anakin wouldn’t accept a no from him, he never signed up to co-parent a defiant padawan! Especially Qui-Gon’s padawan. The entire conversation between them is already awkward enough.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“No?” Qui-Gon replies, sipping his tea like they’re discussing the weather. “You’ve done a good job at teaching him some rationality and a few duelling tricks until now. I haven’t been able to wield a lightsaber for a while now, but it’s hard to miss the handprint of my own master all over Anakin’s sudden blend of Ataru and Makashi in his movements.” Obi-Wan is pretty sure his ears and his face are burning by now. “Don’t you think he could benefit from some real experience? Maybe start to put things in perspective? Show him why the diplomatic skills and temperance we preach are so important even for the violent or difficult conflicts we’re asked to solve?” 

And really, what is he supposed to say to that? 

Qui-Gon leaves his quarters before he manages to gather the courage to ask why he chose him of all knights for this task. It really doesn’t make any sense to Obi-Wan.

The very next day, Anakin shows up at the hangar bay ready to see the stars, bag on his shoulder and enough excitement to make the whole ship vibrate under his feet. 

“If you cause problems on purpose, I’ll send you back to your master faster than you can say pod-racing.”

“I promise I won’t, Knight Kenobi,” Anakin replies, all angelic smile and respectful padawan face. It’s the first time Anakin has called him by his title, and somehow it sounds a bit wrong.

Anakin does end up causing problems on purpose. It’s ridiculous but also kind of genius, so Obi-Wan only shakes his head and says “you’re really going to be the death of me.”

And for some years, it works. Qui-Gon stays Anakin’s master, but he does send him to learn from other masters and knights. More and more, though, Anakin asks for Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon rarely refuses.

“You two are the last people I thought would get along,” Mace Windu tells them a few successful missions later, after witnessing them bantering back and forth from their respective beds in the Halls of Healing. “Nonetheless, I’m glad you do. It’s good to see close lineages strengthening their bond to each other.”

Anakin blinks so many time at the compliment that Obi-Wan doesn’t hesitate a second before throwing his pillow at his face the second Windu leaves the room.

It’s a shame that Obi-Wan never manages to ask Qui-Gon about why he trusted him with his padawan. 

Because Qui-Gon dies on Geonosis. 

He shouldn’t have been there, Obi-Wan and Anakin keep saying. But they both know that you can’t stop Qui-Gon Jinn to do what he wants. He shouldn’t have gone to Kamino by himself, he shouldn’t have followed the bounty hunter to Geonosis, He shouldn’t have been in this arena, he shouldn’t have been killed before the help has come. He shouldn’t have died right in front of his former master— because of his former master. 

Anakin’s master died that day, but when Obi-Wan saw Master Dooku ordering the attack on the Jedi, he felt like he was losing two masters at the same time. 

Now there is a war coming, and the Council is talking about Master Dooku being a Sith, and he should stop saying Master Dooku, he knows, and people are asking how good can a Jedi be when raised by a traitor, and Yoda is talking to him about knighting Anakin and what he thinks about it like he’s his master now, and Anakin refuses to talk to him, and that probably has to do with the fact that he lost an arm and a father-figure to Obi-Wan’s master, and Obi-Wan would like to sleep for an entire year now, thank you very much. 

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

Part I

A lamb in a den of lions, he thought, watching the newcomer as she settled in, ordering whiskey neat. A fool, for sure.

A fool she may be, perhaps, but even fools could be dangerous. Eren had known that the young woman was a Hunter from the moment she entered the bar (everyone else had, too) but something told Eren that she was hardly cut from the same cloth as the average Bane of Creatures. There was something in her movements— a predatory grace in her stride, perhaps, or a stiff, straight posture, with muscles tensed and ready for action— that betrayed her power to him; but for all that, she really was lovely, and the image of a rabbit caught in a patch of bramble came to mind whenever he looked at her.

Sitting in a corner, drinking his B-neg, he watched the woman as she sipped her drink, checking over her shoulder now and then. She was wary— as anyone with good sense would be— but she didn't appear frightened, and Eren's curiosity was piqued. It wasn't every day that someone so bold happened across his path, and it became harder and harder for him to resist the urge to approach her.

Eventually, Eren gave in to his curiosity— he never had been very good at or even particularly fond of restraining himself— and when he came silently up behind her, the newcomer didn't even notice his presence until he murmured a greeting close to her ear.

"Hello, little love," he said, and she startled in her seat. "Are you lost?"

She turned around then, her eyes big and bright in the dim lighting of the bar, but by the time she managed to look at the spot where Eren would have been, he was already seated on the barstool beside her. Eventually, though, her eyes found his, and when their gazes met, Eren was amused to find no fear in her visage.

"Far from it," she told him, turning her body towards him. "I am precisely where I mean to be."

Eren blinked, nonplussed.

"Curious," he said, leaning forward so that she could see the sharpness of his teeth as he spoke. "Do you fancy yourself a wolf among sheep, little Hunter? Did you really not think we would know you for what you are the moment you crossed the threshold of this place?"

Any normal, human ear would have missed the way her heart leapt in her chest, but Eren missed nothing. The fear he had hoped to inspire in her was present after all, but her face never moved from its impenetrable mask— an affectation that was somehow both soft and steely at once.

"That's not what I'm here for," she told him, widening the distance between her knees as she readjusted on the stool. "I'm here to discover the truth."

The truth— what an odd notion!— and yet Eren sensed no lie in her.

"You're a strange one," he told her, but forced himself to relax his posture to appear lazy, almost drunk. "Most Hunters— even ones so pretty as yourself— shoot first and worry about the truth later. What's your name?"

Her nose crinkled. "It's polite to give your own first."

Sharp, he thought, watching her closely. Names have power.

"Eren Jaeger."

"Eren Jaeger," she echoed, then extended her hand. "My name is (Y/N)."

That name sounded familiar to Eren— and though most names did after living a few centuries, this one seemed to hit closer to home. He knew that name, and knew it well…

"What's your surname?"

(Y/N)'s eyes flashed with an emotion that Eren didn't catch.

"Kirschtein," she replied, averting her eyes. "I'm Jean Kirschtein's great-great-great granddaughter."

And damn if Eren didn't want to laugh. Perhaps his nosiness into the posterity of his old acquaintances really was as bad of an idea as Armin always seemed to imply.

"I see," he said, and he truly, truly did. "Then you know who I am— what I am— and what I've done."

More than that, if she truly did know who he was, it was unlikely that she had come without a specific purpose in mind.

(Y/N) nodded, confirming his suspicions. "I was digging around in my family history and— well— I read what my grandfather wrote, and I just— I wanted the truth."

So wide-eyed, so innocent— so alive. Eren could see now her resemblance to Jean; if they were not similar in looks, she had his sharpness, his humanness… and, as he always had Jean, Eren envied her for it.

"If that's the case, then I'm sure you know that you don't get something for nothing," he told her, sipping his drink just to watch the expression on her face as he let the warm blood slide down his throat. "And that dealings with me can be dangerous."

"Jean Kirschtein loved you, Eren Jaeger," she told him fiercely and with such conviction that Eren nearly choked on his drink. "To take such a tone with me, to threaten me, the last living remnant of him, is the most disrespectful thing I've ever heard."

Eren was about to say that he didn't owe her, Jean Kirschtein, or anyone else any sort of respect, but she plowed on, unwilling to let him say his piece.

"You broke his heart a million ways by doing what you did, but— but he was your friend through all of it, no matter what side each of you were on," (Y/N) continued, passion aflame in her eyes. "I can't even imagine what inspired such a love, such a loyalty from him that he would forgive you for the horrors you caused. That's what I'm here to find out— what you have that a man such as him would find you redeemable."

The reproof in her words stung, but Eren was too old to argue. She could never understand what it was like back then.

"I understand more than you think," she snapped, and Eren actually flinched. "I understand that you hurt the woman my grandfather loved immeasurably, and that he forgave you for that even though he never even particularly liked you. I understand that you were ready to sacrifice the world for that selfsame woman, for Jean, and for all the others. I understand that you're a monster who loved and was loved back, but I want to know why."

How? Eren thought, shaken.

How had she known his thoughts? It was as though she had seen straight through to his innermost being.

Without speaking, she answered his question. (Y/N) took a hand and rolled up her left sleeve, presenting to him a scarred marking in the shape of a pentagram.

"My grandfather didn't settle down with just anyone," she told him, holding his gaze. "I come from a line of powerful witches, all of whom possessed strong claircognizance. Paired with my nature as an empath, you can assume I know what you're going to say before you say it."

Eren hummed, trying to appear less perturbed than he was.

"And yet you hunt Creatures for a living; strange, since you're practically one of us yourself."

(Y/N) glowered. "I hunt monsters that prey on my people, not Creatures. No innocent has died by my hand."

The unlike you went unsaid, but that didn't mean that Eren didn't hear it anyway.

"Don't get high-and-mighty with me, girl," he told her roughly. "Knowing is one thing, but experiencing what we experienced is another."

"I'm not here to judge you," she replied. "I told you, I'm here for truth, nothing more."

"And I told you that the truth doesn't come for free," he told her darkly. "You must give me something in return."

(Y/N) set her jaw.

"What would you have of me?"

It was a mean, base request. Eren was wicked for even thinking it, and vile for wanting it— but looking at the great-to-however-many-degrees granddaughter of a good man that he had once known, seeing the vitality that brought a flush to her cheeks and thumping to her heart, he knew he couldn't pass up this golden opportunity.

It had been so long since he'd had a Companion.

"Become my cupbearer for six moons," he told her, crossing his arms. "Starting with tonight, the moon becomes new; let me drink from you until six of these have passed, and along the way, you will learn what you want to know."

(Y/N) eyed him warily.

"Can you assure my physical safety?"

Eren grunted, almost amused. It was a bit late to be worrying about that.

"I think you know that I can."

"And will you let me continue in my duties as a Hunter?" she asked, her eyes searching his own as if she would find the answer to her question there inside the same eyes he'd had since he was nineteen. "Completely uninhibited?"

"That depends. Will you kill Creatures in the discharge of your duties?"

(Y/N) made a face. Eren had forgotten how expressive mortals could be, but he found that being reminded was not altogether unpleasant.

"You know I will," she replied, "But you have my word that any killing won't be unprovoked."

Eren supposed it was as close to a compromise as he could expect.

"As you wish it, so shall it be."

He turned away, signaling to the bartender for another drink, but a lightning-fast hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Swear it," she demanded. "I need us to be Bound by it."

The meanness in Eren finally won over. He reached forward, grabbing (Y/N) by the neck, and the silver rings on her fingers burned him as she pulled at his hand to try and restore her breath. Eyes from all around the room were on the two of them— had been, since the very beginning— but it was only once the Hunter before him began to look appropriately humbled that he withdrew.

"Do not touch me without my permission," he said, "And I will return the favor."

(Y/N) looked at him then, but there was still no fear in her eyes. Anger, yes, but no fear.

She must be mad, or foolish one, he thought, considering her for a moment. I always have been partial to mad fools in general, but…

Something about her seemed different, and Eren didn't know what to do other than accept what she had to offer. Heavens knew he was getting the better end of the deal anyway.

"Swear it," she repeated, this time more quietly. "Give your word, and I will be your cupbearer."

Eren brought his hand up and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. At his will, the nail tip of his forefinger sharpened, hardening into a point; he used it to draw an 'X' onto the skin just over where his heart rested inside his chest, cold and dead. Blood welled into the cut— precious little, compared to that of a human, but still enough to run down his chest in smudges— and it was by that blood that he swore. He spoke the terms of their agreement, then took the blood from his wound with the pad of his finger and marked the same spot over (Y/N)'s own heart.

"Satisfied?" he asked, their faces almost touching, and (Y/N) shivered.

"Yes."

Her warm, living breath fanned over his face with her reply, and Eren took the moment to close his eyes and appreciate the scent and sensation of it.

"You may think you're satisfied," he told her, pulling away, "But you don't know the meaning of the word."

She eyed him warily, but before she could speak, he added, "In six months' time, I'll ask you the same question, and it is then that you will truly know what it is to feel satisfied— satiated in every way."

"As you say."

It was a throwaway comment, nothing more than a dismissal, really; but Eren felt like it was the start of something truly remarkable.

[voiceless-terror]

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages. 

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it. 

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers. 

Telling his assistants was another story. 

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red. 

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts. 

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought. 

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!” 

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest. 

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment. 

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up. 

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?” 

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity. 

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hey everyone, welcome to the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading through this. I know it’s a crack ship and not everyone’s cup of tea, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you all enjoyed it :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Ten - Moving Forward

Two Weeks Later

"You feelin' okay?"

That was a loaded question, and one Freed wasn't yet ready to deal with. He and Gajeel were walking from the guildhall infirmary side by side, the first time that Freed had been outside since his demon had left him. It was mid morning and an entirely pleasant day, and Freed found himself angry at the sun beating down on them both. If it were raining or stormy then at least it would feel appropriate for his mood.

A cane. For the rest of his life, he would need a cane.

In terms of a mage's possible injuries, ending up with a cane wasn't much to complain about. People had been killed, mutilated and injured beyond recovery, so having to walk with a cane was hardly the worst that could happen. But every time he thought about it, Freed could only see a future limited by a piece of wood he would need to lean on.

The demon, it seemed, wasn't only eating away at his soul. It had slowly been sapping away at his energy both physical and magical, and the effect was more physical than Porlyiusca had thought. Porlyusica had said that, though she didn't know how long it would take, the demon would have eventually started to make Freed wither if it had been left to stay inside of him. The issue had been that, as the demon was being dragged from his soul, it's influence had exploded and affected Freed greatly, particularly in his lower right leg.

Porlyusica had said the influence had been like an ocean, slowly wearing away the coast. But as the demon was taken, it had turned into a tsunami.

He had been assured that the injury wasn't life threatening, and it was something that he could more-or-less get passed. Eventually, he would manage to bring the strength back to his leg, and when that happened the cane would only be a precaution for the occasional moments where the injury flared back up. Apparently he would be able to work as a mage again once the recovery began, though would have to change his fighting styles and work back up to the missions he had been taking.

Maybe he should be thankful that he would be able to continue working at all. He wasn't.

"Conflicted," Freed eventually said, walking beside Gajeel and determined to keep pace with him despite the unfamiliarity of the cane. "I'm glad you're here, though. Thank you."

"I wasn't gonna be anywhere else," Gajeel said firmly, and that was something of a consolation.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Freed knew what it was. Gajeel couldn't think of anything to say, because there was nothing that he could say to make the situation any better. No doubt, Gajeel knew that Freed wasn't fond of pity, and a lot of what a person might say in the situation might be seen as pitying, and so Gajeel was probably remaining quiet. Freed hoped this wasn't going to be a sign of things to come.

As if reading his thoughts, Gajeel suddenly perked up and looked at Freed with a mischievous smile. It was forced, but Freed didn't want to linger on that and so pushed it to the side and quirked up an eyebrow in a question.

"The stripper and the puppeteer are making Sparky and the flirt do their punishment this week," Gajeel said, and Freed laughed a little. "You wanna see them makin' asses out of themselves while being ordered around by two assholes."

"They actually went through with the butler idea?" Freed chuckled.

"Yeah. Even the thing about them being in their underwear and everything," Gajeel grinned, and maybe he was just happy to hear Freed amused. The last few weeks, he had been downcast at the best of times. "Even made sparky wear bunny ears. Though he was gonna fry all of us with how pissed off he looked. We were all laughin' pretty damn hard,"

"He takes bets seriously," Freed smiled. This topic, as stupid as it was, was a welcome distraction. "Are you sure you wish for me to see my ex in such a state of undress."

"Fuck yeah i do," Gajeel grinned. "You see him, then you see me and realise how much better you are now."

"So you intended to strip off too?" Freed probed. "I am being spoiled."

"Anythin' for my prince," Gajeel said.

Prince. Gajeel had been calling Freed that a lot over the last few weeks, and it always made him blush just a little. There was something so honest about the way he said it, as if Freed really were a man of importance to him as well as being someone to be revered. Freed wasn't the type of man to need complete adoration from a partener, but the fact Gajeel was so unquestioningly open about his reverence for him made Freed delighted. It was certainly better than city-boy, too.

And when he said he would do anything for Freed, it sounded like he meant it. Not just in the sense that he would do anything to make Freed's life easier now that this had happened. No, it felt like Gajeel was naturally happy to do things for Freed because he wanted to. Freed felt the same as Gajeel in that respect; he would do anything for him.

"I think maybe I'd like to go home for tonight," Freed eventually said, and Gajeel nodded.

"Thought you might," He said. "Don't worry about groceries or anything, I sorted 'em out. Spoke to yer team, so I've got everything you normally have, I think. Might make a cottage pie for dinner, Sparky said you like 'em. And I went to that bakery downtown and got you a banoffee pie for dessert."

And with a few statements, Gajeel had gotten Freed to cry.

The man who, less than a month ago, had been nothing more than a tedious acquaintance of Freed's was now somehow one of the most treasured people in his life. Because how could he not be? How could Freed not be entirely enamoured by a man like Gajeel? A man who had visited Freed every day in the infirmary, even sneaking in some nights despite rules saying he shouldn't. A man who, despite being known for his antisocial nature, had spoken to Freed's team to find out what he liked and what he did when the world was getting on top of him. A man who knew that something so trivial and comparatively not important as an empty fridge would be Freed's first thought after what had happened.

Gajeel noticed his sudden emotion and turned immediately. He looked at Freed with such open concern on his face, cupping Freed's cheeks with his large and calloused hands so carefully that Freed might swoon. Damn this brute of a man and his hidden fragility.

"It'll get better," Gajeel whispered. "I know it's shit now, and I ain't gonna tell ya how to feel 'cause that'd be shitty of me, but you'll get past it. Yer Freed fucking Justine, remember."

"I know," Freed chuckled, blinking a few times to cut off the tears. "Thank you."

"I ain't gonna let you do this alone, neither," Gajeel kept on. "Anythin' you need, anytime, I'm gonna do it for you. And you know you've got a whole guild full of people who'll do exactly the same. You'll get through it."

"I will," Freed whispered, and smiled at Gajeel. "You're too good to me."

"Like hell I am," Gajeel argued. "Now move yer ass. I wanna get in that damn bed of yours again. Mine feels shitty after havin' yours and yer runes would only let me in when I was bringing groceries."

Freed laughed at that. Gajeel certainly wasn't going to be treating him like glass. Good.

They walked down the streets of Magnolia side by side. For the most part it seemed normal, and on the few occasions where Freed's grasp on the cane wavered, or his leg buckled under him, Gajeel would help him back to being stable, held him while he walked for a few steps, and then acted like nothing had happened. Respectful, unpatronising, but there for him.

Gajeel was going to be there for him, and at that moment that was all Freed needed.

——

One Month Later

"Come on Prince," Gajeel yelled. "Nearly there, baby. Yer so close."

Gajeel was clapping as a form of motivation, standing on the side of the lake. He and Freed were in the forest that their relationship had begun in, having spent the night camping under the stars. The morning was a brisk and cold one, but Gajeel didn't care, as he watched his boyfriend keenly and with a ridiculous grin across his face.

Freed was so close. He was so close to getting there and Gajeel was so damn proud of him.

The couple had spoken at length about how Freed was going to move past his injury, and Freed had been adamant that he wanted to be as fit as he could and return to his missions as soon as he could. While Gajeel had been a little hesitant, he had worked with Freed on how they would accomplish that, and they had settled on building up his leg's muscle in small bursts. They would make goals for Freed to accomplish, and once he had accomplished one, he would move onto something more strenuous.

Swimming the entire length of the lake was the first goal. Although swimming didn't rely too heavily on his leg muscle, it kept it moving and put some on some burn. Multiple times a week they would get to the forest, and Freed would attempt it. So far, Gajeel had needed to dive in after and help him.

But this time, it looked different.

Freed was getting closer and closer to the shoreline and Gajeel could feel that this was the one. Finally Freed was going to get to the other end of the lake without any assistance. The water parted with each swift motion, and Gajeel was grinning from ear to ear as his boyfriend got closer.

"You can do this baby," He yelled again. "Yer fucking amazing. Yer so close."

Maybe Freed heard, because he seemed to speed up. As he approached the shoreline, Gajeel picked up his cane and rushed to where Freed was going to end up. He was going to do it! He was going to make it.

The moment Freed's hand hit the side of the lake, he removed his head from under the water. A look of shock turned to something close to joy, and Gajeel relished every second of it. To see the man he loved so happy, so proud of himself, was tremendous. Better still, Freed pushed himself out of the lake with no assistance, perhaps on an adrenaline high, and managed to stand up. It was wobbly, and he reached for his cane the moment it was within reach so he could prop himself up on it, but the fact he could do that after pushing his body so hard in swimming was incredible.

"Shit," Gajeel grinned. "You fucking-"

He was cut off when Freed grabbed Gajeel by the collar, pulled him down into a strong, passionate kiss. Gajeel stepped into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Freed's waist, not caring for how wet his clothes were going to be. He kissed back with as much passion as he could, because fuck - Freed had done it!

When they pulled apart, Freed had his left hand wrapped around Gajeel's neck. He looked practically giddy at his achievement. Fuck that was a handsome look on Freed, and Gajeel wanted to see it more. He pulled away, looked his man up and down and grinned.

Bastard shouldn't be able to kiss like that while dressed in a speedo.

Only Freed would be able to take the choice to give up sex until he was feeling reovered and turn it into a game where he'd try and turn Gajeel on every chance he got, just to piss him off. Motherfucking tease

"How d'you feel?" He asked, because Freed's health was more important than his arousal. "Nothing hurting too bad?"

"It burns, but like my arms do after lifting weights," Freed said, tentatively raising his right leg and moving it slightly. "But overall, I feel fantastic. Better than I have since everything began, I think."

"I'm glad," Gajeel grinned. "You wanna have some breakfast. Brought some pancake mix from the store if you wanna try it."

"Great," Freed grinned, and began to walk beside Gajeel to where they had set up camp. He looked up towards Gajeel with a spark in his eye that had been missing for some time. It was incredible to see it again. "I want to try and do it again tomorrow, to make sure that it wasn't a fluke. Would you mind sleeping here another night?"

"Of course not," Gajeel said immediately. Freed didn't need to ask.

"Once I'm sure that I can swim the length consistently, I think it makes sense to start working on exercises that focus on my leg, rather than using it as a secondary point of focus," Freed continued, seemingly unaware as Gajeel wrapped a towel around his bare shoulders. "I have a leg press at home which I could use, though perhaps that might be too much too soon. I suppose we can test it, can't we? You wouldn't mind being there, just in case something goes wrong."

"That's fine," Gajeel nodded, grinning at his boyfriend.

"Or perhaps some kind of ankle weights would be better," Freed continued, walking towards their camp as if walking on air. "They're not the most elegant solution, but they would certainly help build up muscle without too much strain. Perhaps you could make some for me, if you found the time of course. Maybe a continuous piece of iron that would snake around my calf, that way the weight would be distributed better around the leg."

"Makes sense," Gajeel said, chuckling. He was fairly sure he wasn't really a part of this conversation Freed was having with himself.

"I did want to start work on making the barn at the back of my property into a gym, but I've kept putting it off," Freed continued. "The space is rather a mess. Maybe the two of us could clean it out together. That would get me moving and help me be physical while using the cane," He then looked up to Gajeel and frowned. "Why are you smiling like that at me?"

"Yer cute when yer scheemin'," Gajeel grinned. "Glad I get to watch it."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, so Gajeel leant over, pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, and smiled. Things were getting better.

——

Two Months Later

"Freed, no," Bickslow said firmly. "You can't do this to us."

"Why did you think this was a good idea?" Gray demanded, resting his head in his hands. "You've doomed us all."

"You're all so dramatic," Freed chuckled, leaning back in the chair and moving the wrapped box so it was out of sight again. "And I'm afraid that, when I'm choosing a gift for my boyfriend, I didn't prioritise the opinions of my friends."

"You should have," Evergreen huffed. "This is going to be awful."

The guild's New Years party had been going for hours now, and it had been a fun affair. People had drunk, made fools of themselves, and shared tender moments with their fellow guild members. While Freed hadn't engaged in much of the action, other than beating Max, Loke and Natsu in an arm wrestling contest, he had enjoyed a night of people watching and drinking with his friends and boyfriend.

As the night wore on, The Raijinshuu had flocked to a corner and sat at a table. Not only The Raijinshuu though, as Gajeel, Gray and Elfman were now mainstays of their table. It was odd, how quickly their small group had expanded and how easy these new friendships had been formed. Even Laxus, who had openly shown frustration at the fact he could have to go through the torture of becoming friendly with new people, had managed to find common ground with their new partners, even if he did pretend to be annoyed by their presence.

Or perhaps he was distracted. He and Loke could often be found glancing across at each other in subtle moments. Perhaps being forced to dress as sexy bunny-butlers had brought them together in a way fighting side by side just couldn't.

They were less subtle than Evergreen and Elfman, though. It was frustrating.

At that moment, Gajeel and Laxus had gone to the bar to collect the latest round. Freed had taken the opportunity to have a little fun with everyone else sitting at the table, and told them what his specific gift for Gajeel was. They had been less than pleased when they found out what it was, which only made Freed even more sure he had chosen the correct present.

"Hey," Gajeel said, placing a tray of drinks on the table and kissing Freed atop the head as he passed. "Why does everyone but you look pissy?"

"I told them that we couldn't open our gifts without you and Laxus being here," Freed lied smoothly, ignoring the roll of the eyes from Gray and Bickslow. "They were so enthusiastic to see what we've all got for each other, they didn't want to wait."

"Okay?" Gajeel frowned. "I don't believe ya, but if that's the story yer gonna go with, then I ain't gonna fight ya."

Freed chuckled. Gajeel really could see right through him.

Even though he didn't believe Freed's lie, the group did begin to open the presents they had gotten for each other. Elfman and Evergreen exchanged gifts first, doing so with the maturity of a woman who didn't know how to show off her affection, and the blush of a man who was delighted at even the smallest of compliments. Next, Bickslow and Gray, who had similar minds and had gotten each other gag gifts; Gray had been gifted ten coupons for a night with Bickslow, Bickslow had been gifted a pair of mens lingerie. Even Laxus had been given a gift from an 'anonymous' source, who had gotten him a small pendant shaped like a lion.

They really needed to be more subtle.

When it came to Freed and Gajeel, Gajeel offered his wrapped gift first. The box was long and thin, and Freed looked at it with curiosity as he began to unwrap it. When he looked at Gajeel, the dragon slayer was nervous.

"If you don't like it, that's okay?" Gajeel said, and Freed frowned. "It was kinda risky. So don't feel bad if you wanna change it back."

Not entirely sure what to expect, Freed opened the box. Inside of it was a new walking cane, one made of both wood and metal, a hell of a lot nicer than the one he'd gotten from Porlyusica. For a moment he wondered what Gajeel had been so nervous about, and what he meant by 'change it back', when he saw the handle. Rather than a simple handle, Gajeel had placed the hilt of Freed's sword on top of it.

The sword had been a constant burden for Freed over the past few months. He couldn't use it as his hand was occupied with the cane, so he had been forced to retire it. Looking at it was like a reflection of how much he had lost, and it had gotten so bad that he had put it in the attic and locked it away. Gajeel had apparently found it.

"I know the sword meant a lot to ya, but after what happened it made you feel shitty," Gajeel explained. "But I wanted it to make you feel good. Not something from yer past, but something from yer future."

"It's beautiful," Freed whispered, running his hand over the metal that had once been his hilt.

The sword had been the first thing he had brought with his own money, and the hilt had been the deciding factor over all the other weapons the armory had. For most of his life, it had been his most prized possession. Now, with the hilt attached to something that he could use, rather than something that taunted him with it's past importance, he could look at it with fondness and pride again.

"You sure?" Gajeel asked.

"Yes," Freed said earnestly. "It's perfect."

"You ain't seen everythin' yet," Gajeel was grinning now, and Freed removed it from it's box. "If y' push it into the ground and twist it anti-clockwise, you'll see what else I did."

Freed did as instructed, and heard a small click come from inside the cane. He lifted it up, and a thin blade was revealed to him. He looked at the shining metal with wonderment, and slowly brought the blade towards him. Another sword, more lightweight and agile than his previous blade had been, which worked better for his current state.

"I smelted down the old one and made it from the same metal, so it'll carry all the enchantments you put on it," Gajeel explained. "Thought you'd need one for when you started working again."

"It's perfect," Freed whispered, grinning at the blade. "Thank you so much, Gajeel."

"Happy new year, prince," Gajeel mumbled, pressing his lips against Freed's for a chaste kiss. "Yer gonna kick ass, I know it."

"I certainly intend to," Freed smiled, reaching for his gift to Gajeel. "While I admit it's not as thought out as yours was - I don't think anything could be - I do hope you enjoy what I got you."

Gajeel grinned and began to rip open the present, and everyone at the table who knew what he'd been gifted seemed downtrodden at the thought. Gajeel, however, looked into the large box with sparkling eyes and the biggest, most excited grin on his face. A moment later, he brandished his new electric guitar with anticipation rushing through him. Yes, Freed had definitely gotten him the right gift.

"Holy shit," Gajeel said with an excited laugh. "This is fucking kickass."

"I'm glad you like it," Freed smiled. "I should say, I expect a show."

Everyone groaned, but Gajeel ignored them. "Fuck yeah yer getting a show."

Before leaving, however, Gajeel leant down and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss that was perhaps too deep for the situation. But with the constant PDA from Gray and Bickslow, the love/hate flirting from Elfman and Evergreen, and whatever the hell Loke and Laxus had between them, Freed felt he was allowed to kiss his boyfriend how he pleased.

"I should say," Freed murmured into Gajeel's ear as he pulled away. "I find musicians very sexy."

"Y' do, huh?" Gajeel grinned, voice a little husky.

"And if a musician were to dedicate a song to me, I could be persuaded to let him do anything at all to me," Freed continued, voice a sexy tease which he hopes would go right down Gajeel's spine. "Including, perhaps allowing him to bind me to my bed with the manicals that he thinks I don't know are hidden in the spare room," Gajeel's breath hitched. "I might let him keep me there all night, even. Though, I suppose, once I was bound, he'd be in complete control of me, so I'd have to do as instructed no matter what."

"Fuck yeah you would," Gajeel growled a little, and Freed smirked.

Once Freed had been recovered enough, the two men had restarted their sex life. Freed was happy both topping and bottoming, but Gajeel had shown himself to enjoy taking the top roll with sadistic glee. Freed had been happy to accommodate, and he'd been beaten and bruised by the man night after night.

"Something to consider before you start," Freed grinned, pulling away from Gajeel's ear to lean back in his seat.

Gajeel walked to the guildhall's stage with purpose, hefting his new guitar and plugging it into the amplifier. It seemed like everyone but Freed was unhappy with this turn of events, but neither man cared. This was for them, and they were going to enjoy themselves.

"I'm gonna dedicate this to my Prince, the hottest motherfucker in this guild," He looked towards Freed with an evil grin. "And this is a warnin' baby. You better be dancin' now, 'cause yer gonna be too fuckin sore to do it tomorrow."

Freed laughed, raised a glass to toast the sentiment, and sat back to watch his boyfriend perform.

——

Nine Months Later

Gajeel woke up with Freed wrapped up in his arms, and he still smiled at the sight of the sleeping man despite how much he'd seen it.

One year. He'd spent one year with Freed, and enjoyed every damn day of it.

Even if the start had been rocky, both with how they first felt anger towards each other as well as the difficulties Freed was facing with his leg, Gajeel wouldn't have changed a single day. Without their arguments on that first week, then Gajeel couldn't be sure that their passion would have turned into something more beautiful and more important than Gajeel would have ever predicted. And while he would give anything for Freed not to have had to face the demon and all the consequences of its possession, Gajeel was so proud of Freed for fighting through it all and was so glad he could be there to help him.

Now, Freed was a lot better. He was stronger on his feet and his cane was rarely needed, even if he always kept it with him. He could go on missions, both with Gajeel and with his team. While they weren't as action-filled as his previous missions, Freed was relearning his craft and creating a new fighting style that could accommodate his needs.

He was a fucking badass, and Gajeel loved him so much.

Life had changed for Gajeel too. Months prior, his contract in the shitty apartment had ended and Freed had invited him to move in with him. Now, every morning he got to wake up with Freed in their shared bed, in their shared home, in their shared lives.

Life was good.

With careful movements, he pressed his lips against Freed's to coax him awake. One thing that hadn't changed was Freed's adorable habit of sleeping in as late as he could, and normally Gajeel would be happy to accommodate. But today was their anniversary and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with his boyfriend. The afternoon and the evening were all planned by Freed, but Gajeel had a few ways of making the morning more fun.

"Wake up, baby," He murmured. "I got a surprise for ya."

Freed, as he always did when he was woken up before he wanted, blinked a few times and pushed his face into Gajeel's chest as if in protest to waking up. Gajeel chuckled, stroked his hand through Freed's hair, and gently pulled the man out from his chest. Freed was sleep worn and tired, but still smiled up at Gajeel.

"Morning," He greeted through a yawn.

"G' mornin'," Gajeel said with a grin. "Y' better not be tired all day. I've got plans for ya."

"Oh have you," Freed grinned lazily, hand resting on Gajeel. "Do tell."

"Not like that, y' horny fucker," Gajeel grinned. Of course, part of the day would be dedicated to screwing Freed senseless, but just not now. "Put on a robe or somethin', I'm gonna make ya breakfast."

Freed raised an eyebrow, but did as instructed and slowly removed himself from the bed. Once out from under the covers, Gajeel saw the man in his naked glory and smirked. Over the year, Freed had shown an interest in getting more piercings, and Gajeel had happily obliged. He had rings decorating his other ear, a stud on his nose, and a single barbell at the base of his cock. That was Gajeel's favourite. Day by day, he was turning his prince more punk.

In response, Gajeel had gotten himself some new tattoos in the shape of Freed's runes. They hadn't figured out how to implant actual runes, but the tattoos looked just the same. He now had the runic word for Dragon on his left arm, and he looked fucking kickass.

"When you said you were going to make breakfast, I hope you meant food," Freed teased gently. "Because at the moment, you look ready to eat me."

"Later, Prince," Gajeel promised, wrapping an arm around Freed.

They walked to the kitchen, and Freed sat at the table while Gajeel got to cooking. Freed mainly cooked for them both as he was better, but Gajeel was by no means bad when tasked with a meal. He also knew each and every one of Freed's guilty pleasure meals, and as such had decided to cook them both pancakes and bacon for their breakfast. They would need the energy for the rest of the day. No doubt Freed had something good planned, and then of course there was the double date dinner with Gray and Bickslow.

Apparently, according to Bickslow, they shared an anniversary, and as such had to celebrate together.

"Y' see that box on the table," Gajeel spoke over his shoulder. "Got you a present. Open it."

"I thought we agreed not to," Freed said, picking up the box.

"Yeah, I know. I had this already and thought it would be good for ya," Gajeel smiled to himself as he whisked the mixture. He heard paper ruffling behind him, and grinned when he heard Freed laugh. "Put it on. Every prince needs one, after all."

It was the wooden crown that he had carved when worrying about Freed in the forest. Once he had been sure Freed was okay, he had gone back to the forest and found where he'd left the carving. He had promised himself that, if he and Freed made it a year as a couple, he would give it to the man. By the amused expression on Freed's face, he had made the right choice.

Freed placed the crown on his head, rolling his eyes a little but smiling. Gajeel grinned and sauntered over to him. He pressed their lips together, grinning.

"Never thought I'd kiss a real prince," He teased. "Ain't I lucky."

"Not as lucky as me, I fear," Freed teased, running a hand up Gajeel's arms. When his fingers traced his runes, he stopped and smiled. "I never did tell you what this meant, did I? I suppose I was embarrassed. Would you like to know?"

"Yeah!" Gajeel exclaimed. He had always been curious.

"It means 'ownership'," Freed chuckled, and Gajeel's inner dragon leapt with joy. "It seems my magic has claimed you, Gajeel."

Gajeel grinned, wrapped Freed in his arms and kissed the hell out of him.

Yeah, life was pretty fucking good.

[aweebwrites]

Perspective

Warning: A smol amount of curse words

Ninjago Pride Week (Day 1- Questioning)

_______________________

Cole never really questioned his sexuality before. Never really considered it. That is, until… He looked at things from a different perspective.

It was one of those hot summer days with nothing to do, no-one to save. Cole had groggily walked into the living space, the heat too unbearable to sleep in anymore than he already had. He was unsurprised to find Kai and Jay clinging to Zane's arms as he sat on the couch, watching TV unbothered. He was the master of ice after all. Even without using his powers, he radiated a comforting kind of coolness. What did confuse him however was that Nya and Lloyd weren't there joining in like they always did.

Jay spotted him then and saw the confusion on his face.

"Lloyd caught a cold from last night's patrol. Nya opted to look after him with Sensei Wu." Jay explained and Cole grunted before walking over.

He then dropped to his knees and rested his head into Zane's lap, sighing as he could feel the coolness he radiated against his sweat dampened skin. Zane chuckled then, running his metal fingers through Cole's hair.

"Holding this position for long isn't any good for your knees. Perhaps a better position is in your interests?" Zane suggested and Cole only grunted.

He'll move when he feels like it. All three of them laughed at his antics and Cole peered up at Zane, his hair falling out of the way with the movement, giving him a clearer view. His eyes widened, seeing Zane's wide, amused smile, his gentle, glowing blue eyes bright, lighting up his whole face. Cole was starstruck, heat filling his cheeks. He buried his face into Zane's lap, his heart pounding a mile a minute.

Woah… What the heck was that?

He shifted on his knees.

"You should really move before you suffer long lasting injuries…" Zane murmured softly, petting Cole's hair still, the caring tenderness of his voice having Cole's stomachs doing flips.

Without lifting his no doubt beet red face out of Zane's lap, he climbed into the couch so he was laying across Kai's lap.

"You're heavier than you look." Kai commented but didn't shift him off of him.

"Lemme get in on that hair action." Jay says, reaching out to pet his soft hair before he began fiddling with a few strands.

"I didn't know you could braid Jay." Zane says, lifting his brow.

"Go Jay." Kai says with a smirk and Jay flushed a little with a shrug.

"Hey, fiddle in your mom's hair long enough and you pick up a thing or two." He shrugged.

Cole watched the entire interaction, focused on Zane's expressions and his voice. What is this really…

___________

Ever since, Cole has been in a sort of debate with himself.

He watched Zane for a while, wanting to try and place this sudden influx of feelings on something tangible. Certainly he couldn't have a crush on Zane… Right? He wasn't gay… Right?

That train or thought had him looking at his other ninja as well, more specifically Nya. He really shouldn't considering her and Jay's one time fling that ended because of him but… He liked girls… Right? Maybe not Nya from what he could tell. His eyes drifted to Jay who was grinning as he struck cool poses with his nunchucks. A particularly wrong spin of them had him smacking himself in the back of the head. Cole couldn't hold back his snicker. He was such an adorable idiot.

Cole blinked at that. Oh no. Did he have a crush on Jay too???

He can't possibly. He walked over to Jay, swinging his hammer on his shoulder. He'll prove it.

"I would have given you a perfect 10 but that last performance had me wondering if I should call medics." He says as he stopped next to Jay and- shit, that wasn't what he was supposed to say at all.

That almost sounded as if he was flirting with him. Jay looked up at him with wide blue eyes then flushed a little in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head. Cole felt heat rising in his cheeks, his stomach churning anxiously as he looked over his freckled face, said freckles standing out even more against his red cheeks. Not to mention those gorgeous wide eyes… What was he trying to prove again?

"You saw that, huh?" Jay says, embarrassedly, glancing away but then looked up at him, his wide eyes narrowing in determination. "I'll get it eventually." He promised and Cole couldn't help his smile.

"I'm sure you will spark plug." He says and Jay grinned at him.

_______

That night, Cole lay awake as his friends slept around him in their own beds. He had the same feelings for Jay. It wasn't the exact same thing per say. When he looked at Zane, seeing him smile, hearing him laugh… It was like someone lit a fire in his chest. When he looked at Jay with his big eyes and smile, his freckled face and his overall adorableness… His stomach is in knots. The wanting he felt to touch them both, to hold hands, to hold them, especially to kiss them… It only grew by the hour. He wonders what it would be like to cuddle into Zane's back, burying his nose into his shoulders with his arms wrapped around his waist. Would Zane mind? Does he even like to cuddle?

He knew Jay did. He cuddles his pillows rather than sleeping on them. Even though it leaves him with a crick in his neck, he just can't seem to stop. It was compulsory. Cole looked across at him before slipping out of bed, grabbing his own pillow. Jay was of course sleeping with one pillow in between his legs and the other wrapped tightly in his arm. Cole let a smile slip onto his face. He gently lifted Jay's head, slipped his pillow underneath then gently rest his head down on it.

He hoped his pillow wasn't too soft for him. Contrary to popular beliefs, he really likes soft things. He then smiled at the sleeping boy then headed over to his bed again, laying on his sole pillow. He sighed softly then closed his eyes. Maybe he should get some sleep. Staying up all night and worrying over something like this isn't very healthy…

Jay nuzzled into the pillow, inhaling the scent of Cole that filled his nose and sighed happily. He opened his eyes again.

You really shouldn't lead me on like this Cole… I don't think my heart could take it.

He glanced across the room at Cole then at Kai and last but certainly not least, Zane. He pulled the pillow from under his head, squeezing it too his chest as he stared ahead sadly.

Not when things are complicated as is…

________________

"Let's see what you've got pretty boy." Kai grinned, holding his sword defensively.

"Oh bring it hot rod." Cole shot back, lifting his hammer.

They both yelled as they charged at each other, Kai using his sword to block his hammer's swing, grunting once he began skidding back.

"So those muscles aren't for show." Kai grunted out, managing to throw a flirty smirk at him.

He however used his hammer as balance and flipped over him, leaving Cole stumbling forward as Kai landed on his feet behind him, grinning successfully as Cole turned around.

"And I see you're not just a pretty face." Cole says, trading hands for his hammer.

"Oh my god can you guys not train without flirting?" Lloyd says and they looked over at their grimacing leader from where he stopped training with Zane.

Both fire and earth elemental flushed, shooting a quick glance at each other.

"We get it, you like each other. Go on a date already." Nya added and Kai shot her a glare, cheeks darkening.

She freaking knew why he couldn't just date Cole. He can't date him when he wasn't the only one he had eyes on. Cole was panicking a little because of course he'd go catch feelings for Kai too- and he hadn't even noticed until now. He always passed off getting up close and personal with Kai as a strategic move, always passed off flirting with him as a means to distract him. Passed off the spark- now flames between them as something else until he convinced himself that it was true. He glanced back at Kai who looked at him, cheeks just as red as his were, his almost glowing amber eyes igniting warmth through his stomach and chest.

This would be a perfect opportunity to ask him out but… It wouldn't be fair to Kai when… He looked at a surprised Zane and Jay.

"... I think that's enough training for one day. I'm… I'm gonna take a walk…" Cole says, heading towards and out the Monastery gates.

"I could use a nap…" Jay says, heading in.

"I should prepare lunch." Zane says then also headed in, leaving Lloyd, Nya and Kai alone.

"I told you to leave it alone!" He hissed at Nya, the moment they were all out of earshot.

"... My bad. I just thought since-"

"Well you thought wrong!" He snapped at her and she flinched.

He sighed, feeling like an asshole.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that." He apologized then turned away. "I just…" He remembered the surprised look they all wore.

They must think him liking guys as much as he likes girls is disgusting…

"I need some time to think." He whispered, walking over to the monastery wall and scaling it, hopping up to the roof.

Nya watched him go and rubbed her arm.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" She whispered…

___________

Jay huffed his pillow- Cole's pillow, staring ahead blankly. So he and Kai liked each other like that huh? He didn't know why he was so upset. The idea of him getting to have all of them is not only selfish but it might as well be fantasy. It doesn't work that way. This world doesn't work that way. Tears stung his eyes. He knew it doesn't work that way… So why…? He buried his face into the pillow, shaking as he did.

_________

Zane went on autopilot setting up lunch, mind far away. It wasn't a well kept secret that he had feelings for his teammates. For as long as he could remember really. How could he not? They were… He tries to keep it as one but he slips up too easily. The probability of all of them becoming one is too low for him to even hope of it. They would all have to share some feelings for each other for that to work or else things will fall apart quickly. The chances of that is less than 2.24%. He contented himself as being their friend instead, being there for them. But…

'We get it, you like each other. Go on a date already.'

He should be happy for his friends getting together. Being happy… He gripped the handle of the pot tightly, startling once it snapped clean off in his hand. He looked down at it, sadness filling his systems. Maybe it was a curse that he got to experience these feelings. He was a Nindroid. A robot. What did he know about emotions? What could he ever know about love? A blue drop of coolant landed on the broken handle, reminding him so much of himself. It didn't stop him from wanting to find out…

______________

Kai hugged his knees as he stared blankly ahead, his sword laying on the roof next to him. He was an idiot, wasn't he? If he was falling for only one of them, it wouldn't be so bad, you know? But no. His over the top self had to go for all of his friends. He thought back to Jay's wide smiles, to Zane's soft ones, to Cole's all out grins. A smile tugged at his lips, thinking of them. It fell quickly. Their lives were complicated as is. He shouldn't try to complicate things even more with his feelings. He laid back at the roof, staring at the partially cloudy sky. He should… He should keep his distance…

_______________

Ever since, there was an awkward tension between the four. They made sure to give each other plenty of space, crucially watching how they spoke and interacted with each other. Sensei Wu was curious to what the sudden shift was but the moment Lloyd mentioned relationships, he kindly left them to their devices. They all thought they were doing what was best for the others but of course, things have a very special way of going wrong.

______

"Kai!" Said fire elemental grunted as he hit the ground, the building collapsing around them from the bomber that blew out the building's support

"Get out of here! The building is about to collapse!" He yelled up at the three who jumped off the Bounty the moment floor gave way under him.

"No! Use airjitzu and let's get out of here!" Cole yelled down at him.

"I-I can't!" He yelled, looking down at his awkwardly bent leg, knowing the only reason he wasn't in a world of agony was due to the adrenaline. "Go!" He yelled, panicked that these idiots would die with him here.

"No!" Jay yelled.

Both he and Cole looked startled when Zane hopped down to where Kai was, the building beginning to crunch around them.

"Go! I'll help him out!" Zane yelled, helping Kai up, careful of his obviously broken leg.

"No way!" Cole yelled then hopped in too after pushing Jay back for him to leave.

He took Kai's other hand as he gritted his teeth. What they didn't expect was Jay using his lightning to destroy a large piece of concrete about to fall on them.

"You idiots! How the hell are we supposed to get out of here?!" Kai yelled at them, the building rumbling as the ceiling got closer.

They looked around and up before Jay gasped.

"I have an idea."

__

"No!" Nya yelled, seeing the building collapse with the ninja nowhere in sight.

"No… It can't be. They couldn't have…" Lloyd whispered, in shock.

Wu solemnly slipped his rice hat off as a large cloud of dust rose up.

Tears filled Nya's eyes but then she frowned, spotting something. She gasped when the large, colourful vortex flew out of the smoke, towards the Bounty.

"It's them!" Lloyd gasped, spotting all four of them in the massive airjitzu funnel.

"Steady…" Zane says and they landed with a relatively gentle landing.

"Woah woah woah!" Kai yelled once Nya rushed over to hug him, making her stop.on her tracks, confused. "I'm glad to be alive too sis but uh, I don't think my leg can take any more sudden movements…" He says, sounding strained.

"He broke his leg. We need to get him to the nearest hospital." Cole says and Lloyd ran over to the wheel.

"On it."

_________

It was a relatively clean break through both his tibia and his fibula so Kai was put on some heavy meds for the pain and had his leg casted. Wu, Nya and Lloyd were filling his prescription, just to give them a chance clear the angry tension in the air.

"'fuckin' told yah to go…" Kai slurred angrily at them, only half there.

"Language Kai. And I would never leave any of you behind. I could have rescued him on my own." Zane says, shooting Cole and Jay a glare. "I'm a Nindroid. I can always be rebuilt. You two on the other hand-"

"Listen, I'm not about to let you talk shit like that." Cole says with a glare, pointing an accusing finger at Zane. "Yes, you're a Nindroid but that doesn't mean I'd sit idly by and let you fuck yourself up just because you 'can always be rebuilt'! I don't give a shit! I'm not about to let any of you unneededly suffer! Not while I can do something about it!" He says angrily.

"You on the other hand should have gone! You could have died!" He yelled, turning to Jay.

"Me?!" Jay sputtered. "You three morons could have died! If I wasn't there to think of of combining our powers, you would all have died! I'm not about to leave any of you behind, no matter what the hell is going on!" He yelled at them, knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fist.

"We could have-"

"No you wouldn't have!" Jay snapped, cutting them off. "If jumping in that hole to save the people I love with all my heart makes me a bad person then so be it!" He yelled at them and they were all taken aback.

Jay panted heavily, glaring them down despite being confused why they were all looking at him like that. His own words ran into him like a freight train, making him gasp as he stepped back.

Shit!

"Wait… 'hut?" Kai slurred, trying to sharpen his current view of the world.

"F-forget I ever-"

"Do you… Do you mean it?" Cole asked, cutting him off as Jay's face heated up in embarrassment, seconds away from crying.

"N- I mean, yeah…" He says, looking away, rubbing his arm. "It's fine. I know you guys-"

"I feel the exact same way." Cole whispered and Jay looked at him, surprised and alarmed.

"You- you have feelings? For all of us? Both of you?" Zane asked, astonished and it was Cole's turn to go red as he and Jay nodded slowly. "... I didn't think it would have been possible you all felt the same way I do…" He says in awe, surprising the two and they began to get hopeful, excited even.

"Kai-" Cole cut himself off, seeing their friend fast asleep.

A fond expression crossed Cole, Zane and Jay's face, one they all caught but didn't have to hide. They were all in the same boat.

"I don't hear any yelling… Did something happen?" Nya asked as she walked in.

Zane, Cole and Jay shared lovestruck smiles.

"You could say so." Zane says lightly.

Nya and Lloyd suspicious traded looks.

"Perhaps it's about time we all head home." Wu says, pleased the tension has cleared up.

____________

Kai came to slowly, his head a little fuzzy but that was drowsiness. He heard talking close by. He tilted his head so he can look at the other side of the room. He had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing right. Across from him, Cole was sitting on his bed with Jay in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around the smaller boy who had his eyes closed but he wasn't sleeping. Zane was sitting next to him, his chin on Cole's shoulder as his hand remained laced together with Jay's, both of them listening to Cole talk about the few years he spent at the Marty Oppenheimer School of Arts. Jay giggled at a joke he cracked then opened his eyes. He blinked once he made eye contact with Kai then grinned.

"You're awake!" All attention landed on him.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Cole asked as they all made their way over.

"... Pretty good actually." He says, recalling what went down at the hospital. "So uh. Room for one more?" He asked them and he was basked in happy smiles and grins.

"Of course!" Jay says eagerly, his eyes bright as he began to pet Kai's hair.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Zane says with a humble but happy smile.

"Wouldn't be right without you." Cole says with a grin and Kai smiled back.

"Aren't I lucky to have three good looking boyfriends to call my own." He mused, grinning when they all blushed- Zane having blue tinting his cheeks.

"You're not too bad yourself." He says and they shared a laugh, spirits high and their hearts soaring even higher.

Cole watched them as they talked, keeping Kai entertained, his cast on a few cushions. Boyfriends. Somewhere along the line, he stopped worrying over whether or not having feelings for them made him gay or bi or even pan. He supposed it doesn't matter. As long as he had them. He smiled, lacing his and Kai's fingers together, joining in on the conversation.

As long as he was happy.

______________________

(Look who's back on mobile! The recent app update seemed to solve the problem. I'm glad considering my sister yeeted herself out of rhe country with her laptop. Anyway, this was supposed to be a fusion of pride week and a cute healing fic buttttt the healing would come in way too late so i decided to start a different fic for that. I hope you guys liked this!)

[09yards]

8 - When You’re Gone (days gone by - nct)

All the mystery and the magic You light up what once was tragic And I know that I will miss you when you're gone I could never have imagined All the heavens pour with passion   But I know that I will miss you when you're gone

    Johnny had been right about one thing tonight; it was indeed a family affair. What felt like just about everyone Mark was close to, was dispersed throughout Yuta's house. The parents had all congregated in the kitchen, about five too many bottles of wine left empty on the side for the number of people - the chatter and laughter rang in Mark's ears.

God, he hated being drunk. The smallest of sounds seemed to echo in his ears but at the same time it felt like he was hearing things underwater, his head was spinning and he was about six too many drinks in and he'd barely been there two hours. The air around him feels thick, muggy from too many people being crowded into the various rooms.

    Jisung had somehow managed to get out of the whole ordeal, arguing with their mum about how it would be inappropriate for someone who is (even more so than the others) underage to be surrounded by drunk people and the possibility of him therefore partaking in said underage drinking would be increased and that's not good for his health. Johnny had called him a pussy under his breath and had promptly earned a slap to his stomach from their mum and a stern "watch your language John" who then turned to Jisung (whose face was now adorning the slight pout and puppy dog eyed look - aka how to get their mum to do whatever they wanted look), her face relaxing into a gentle smile before kissing the top of his head (on her tiptoes which made her pout) and telling him to rest well and not stay up too late studying or engrossed in whatever novel he was currently working his way through. Mark stuck his tongue out on the way out the door - the kid could get away with everything, he and Johnny had dubbed it the youngest child effect. Johnny was pretty upset that he'd wasted good chocolate milk and now Yuta was going to get to drink it.

    Mark had been dancing around since he'd first arrived, back and forth between rooms in hopes of avoiding Donghyuck. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to avoid him, the younger was probably doing the exact same thing though since the lack of communication between the two since way back to Mark's birthday. Mark had spent some time pining and was okay about the whole situation now (as okay as he could be on the surface anyhow). Mark had been so busy with school - even with only being a month and a half in - he'd been spending lunches in the library, study periods with his tutor to talk about his personal statement and what felt like every second of his free time was spent pouring over his textbooks, homework and whatever else he could get his hands on. The only breath of fresh air was when he finally submitted his uni applications, nudging the whole ordeal to the back of his mind rather than playing the waiting game to see if he'd get accepted or not. He'd drifted apart from everyone in a sense but with Donghyuck it was weird. When he passed the others in the hallways, they'd spare a second to flash a smile or give a quick wave, things were normal, but with Donghyuck it felt like he purposefully averted his eyes every time, maybe Mark's mind was playing tricks on him, maybe it wasn't.

Renjun had ranted to him over facetime at three am one night about how Donghyuck seemed to squash any and all rumours quite quickly about whether or not he was gay, Heejin and him had made up somehow apparently and Renjun had seen the two of them spending time together - what for, Mark didn't know, nor did he want to. Renjun had said it was probably some sort of ploy due to Hyuck's parents. They all knew the story and they weren't the worst, but when Hyuck's older brother, Taeyong, had come out they just seemed to ignore it - they pretended like it hadn't happened and they never brought up dating around Taeyong ever again until Taeyong had gotten quite sick of it and had decided to bring his boyfriend (although he hadn't introduced him as his boyfriend, it was quite clear by the two's body language that Taeil very much was) to their annual family Christmas party. Not his proudest moment he has admitted on multiple occasions but, to Mark and the others it was quite the scandal, particularly as lovely as Donghyuck's parents were, they just seemed to not realise the number of people around them that were gay, much to the amusement of the majority of their friends. Just about everyone was gay, bisexual or pan between Mark and Johnny's friends, as well as a copious amount of people attending their school alone were part of the LGBTQ+ community and openly expressed their support of it and how the Lee's were yet to realise it no one would ever know, as well as how they've managed to live in their surprisingly accepting small town where political and social 'issues' weren't taboo. Taeyong had moved out the moment he was accepted into uni and promised that he wouldn't end their relationship for the sake of Hyuck, even if it meant the only time he spoke to his parents these days was when 'required' to at family events and the occasional birthday phone call. Mark and Donghyuck had grown distant over the last two months and Mark couldn't help but feel like it was to do with the rumours. Mark knew Donghyuck's parents wouldn't be happy about him being gay, if he was (Mark was still confused as to whether or not he'd come out to him that day) they would just pretend like it wasn't happening, make up a girl that he was supposedly dating to rely it to the family - it had happened before and it would more than likely happen again. But alas, Mark was far too drunk for him to be able to work up the emotional capacity to act like the best friend, if he could even call himself that anymore, he should be too Donghyuck.

- - - -

    "Jaehyun, please stop, I'm too drunk for this-"

"Being drunk is the perfect time young padawan! As the expert on all thing’s soulmates, please remember I have known mine since I was a mere five years of age, I am the most qualified to educate you here."

"You're probably more drunk than I am right now-"

"I probably am, okay, I definitely am but, doesn't stop me from being happy and in love and married to the best person in the world."

"You aren't married?"

"That's what you think."

"Jaehyun, what on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because I may not be legally married, yet, that doesn't mean I won't be anytime soon. I just need to pick a ring and then ask him but it's not like he's going to say no right? Having a soulmate, you are bound to that person for the rest of your life, that's the whole idea of marriage, is it not? Oh look, there's Doyoung, see you later Mark!" Mark was flabbergasted, apparently Jaehyun had turned into some kind of Tumblr drabble reciting robot when drunk off the dubious substance in his cup, although if you asked him he'd probably just say it's what happens when you're in love and then flash you the famous Jung smile - dimpled and gummy.

"Wait!" Even when he raised his voice himself it made his head pound, "You didn't give me your advice?"

"Oh yeah," Jaehyun could barely stand straight, gently swaying as he paused in his steps half turned to Mark, “Just confess already. The pining isn't doing you any good and there's no other way to find out if he's your soulmate or not unless he tells you he's the one who caused your tattoo. Right now, you're only hurting yourself, stop feeling guilty all the time and be a little selfish for once, not that telling someone how you feel is selfish. You'll only make yourself sick, literally, either way and yes it could end up worst case scenario but you could also end up happy. You deserve to be happy Mark, you've spent so long doing things for everyone else because you felt like you had to, do something for yourself." Mark let his weight sink to the floor, his back pressed against the cold wall of the hallway.

Maybe it's what he needed to be able to let go?

    "Mark, hey," Jungwoo turned the corner, finding Mark still cuddled up against the wall where Jaehyun had left him earlier, "I was looking for you, you disappeared on everyone."

"Jungwoo... I want to apologise again about what happened at my birthday. I was drunk, wasn't thinking straight. What I did was wrong, so wrong and I'm so sorry for it and for upsetting you and-"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm okay? Taeyong introduced me to this older friend of his anyway, very cute, very mature so no risk of him doing any classic teenage pining. Besides, neither of us were exactly thinking straight Mark. You and Haechannie will figure things out soon enough."

"Jaehyun told me to confess, that's why I'm here, debating whether that would be easier than yeeting myself off a cliff." Mark couldn't look at Jungwoo, he still felt guilty, sure they'd both been drunk and neither were exactly hoping to start anything in the future but it felt sucky, Mark never wanted to hurt someone else and in that moment he did, whether Jungwoo was okay now or not.

"Maybe you should, get everything out in the open rather than keeping all those emotions bottled up. You never know, maybe good things will come from it."

"Thank you, Woo, I know what I did was super shitty and I really hope you know how sorry I am."

"Shut up Mark, it never happened."

"Right, it never happened."

For the first time in a while, an actual smile threatened to appear on Mark's face. "Come on, lets re-join the party! Winwin got everyone dancing, even Johnny," Jungwoo grabbed his hand to pull him up from the floor, "let’s have some fun."

    As Jungwoo and Mark joined the makeshift dance floor of Yuta's living room, more drinks were pushed into their hands as their friends whooped and cheered that they were back, all far too drunk to remember any of their actions come morning. Jaehyun and Doyoung were cooped up in a corner, speaking in hushed voices to one another, both of their eyes filled with complete adoration for one another. Lucas was twirling Yuqi, the two of them bursting into fits of giggles whenever they made eye contact, it was endearing, Mark thought. Yuta and Winwin seemed to no longer be hiding their relationship status when Sicheng was not-so-subtle, sitting on Yuta's lap, the two leaning in for an R-rated kiss that Mark swiftly looked away from. Jaemin's head was resting on Renjun's thigh as they sat down on the sofa, evidently Jaemin had drunk more than he could handle and Renjun's hands gently cascaded through the younger's hair. Mark liked seeing his friends together, it made him realise just what having one’s soulmate can do, how it can make you feel. But he couldn't help the pang in his chest at the thought, he was alone, his eyes somehow having found Donghyuck among the copious amounts of people dancing. Mark couldn't take his eyes off of him, he gravitated towards him, dancing with some girls from his class who dragged Mark to join them - pushing him towards Donghyuck.

    The younger's head snapped up at the mention of Mark's name, no longer focused on perfecting the choreography to whatever song was playing with Yeri and Irene. Before Donghyuck could escape, Mark clasped his wrist, looking at him with pleading eyes. Now or never, now or never.

Donghyuck freed himself, flashing Mark a disgusted look before walking out of the room as fast as he could without drawing attention to them, Mark close behind.

"Hyuck, wait up please!"

"Leave me alone Mark."

"Come on Hyuck, at least let me speak," Mark's shoulders slumped as he let out a deep sigh, attempting to build up his courage, now or never. "J-just let me say this and then you can scream, yell, runaway or whatever it is you want to do," Donghyuck's resistance against Mark pulling his arm again relaxed, "just, please let me speak."

"Fine. What do you so desperately have to say?" His voice was wobbly, Donghyuck was telling himself that it was because of the cold October air and not his emotions getting the better of him. Donghyuck doesn’t even remember at what point they’d made it outside – nor does he see the audience of one they’ve gathered.

"Okay, right, here we go."

"I don't have all night Mark."

"Right, sorry. Of course, I just need a second." Was the air getting thicker or was Mark just having trouble breathing?

"Here goes nothing," Mark took one last deep breath and closed his eyes, he had this speech engraved in his mind ready to use it at any moment, "I like you Hyuck. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you and I'm also fairly certain that you're my soulmate.

I know that we're young and I'm definitely dumb and you aren't even eighteen yet but, I know that I'm in love with you and I trust that the universe made us meet that day in the library because you are my soulmate. I can't imagine my life without you, I can't imagine waking up next to anyone else. I can't imagine kissing someone else, holding someone else in my arms, running my hands through their hair, listening to them hum along to the radio. It's always you, in my daydreams and my nightmares, whether I'm asleep or awake you're always by my side.

Believe me when I say I tried to stop, I tried to convince myself that you're not the one. I spent so long crying myself to sleep, begging the universe to let me stop loving you, I tried, I really, really tried... but, I'm always going to love you. I think I've known that since the day we first met and I need you to know that, I'm always going to love you. No matter what. I've imagined me saying this to you hundreds of thousands of times and I was never going to say anything but I can't keep doing this. I can't fake another smile, I can't fake like everything’s alright all of the time, I can't fake that I'm alright. I love you Donghyuck."

"Mark," Donghyuck inhaled sharply, "I don't know what you want me to say..."

"Say you feel the same, say you can feel your soulmate mark showing up, whatever," the pleading in Mark's words was clear by his breathlessness, "Hyuckie, please, I know you can feel it too."

"I'm sorry Mark, I really am," his shoulders slumped and he couldn't meet Mark's eyes, Mark's pleading gaze, "I'm so sorry. I can't do this. I don't feel the same, I'm not in love with you Mark. You're hurting someone else by doing this, please get over me and stop - I know you won't be able to handle the guilt. I can't let you hurt someone else, I can't hurt you by lying like that. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

And with that he turned away, leaving Mark behind, hiccupping in attempts to breathe while he sobbed uncontrollably. A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling Mark into a warm chest, a gentle hand patting his head and muttering "it's okay" over and over again.

    Mark had never felt more sober than he did in that moment. Dizziness overtook him, the walls if the hallway felt like they were closing in around him, getting closer and closer, suffocating him. He sobbed and sobbed until he didn't have a single tear left to cry, his body spasming as he tried to catch his breath, hiccupping into the comfort of Johnny's arms.

Mark had never wanted to get drunk more in his life.

- - - - -

    Donghyuck is peacefully absorbed in his history textbook when his attention is snapped away from medieval medical treatments and to Jaemin quite literally plonking himself in the chair over the other side of the table to Donghyuck, letting out an exasperated sigh as he does so, backpack discarded on the floor by his feet as his eyes meet Donghyuck's - they're inquisitive and Donghyuck feels himself shrink in on himself a little, out of apprehension, fear or embarrassment, Donghyuck isn't sure.

"What happened with you and Mark?"

There was a slight bite to Jaemin's voice, no traces of any gentleness or subtly. Jaemin wasn't for softness when it came to life generally, particularly when someone’s upset, he approaches situations with the grace of a herd of elephants.

"Nothing."

Jaemin tuts, rolls his eyes and lets out a deep sigh, clearly not satisfied with Donghyuck's answer - or rather lack thereof.

"Oh, that’s not what I heard?"

Donghyuck can't tell if Jaemin drew the short straw and is the one tasked with interrogating him over the events of the weekend or if he's genuinely doing it for himself. Maybe Mark is keeping quiet about the events of that night, however even with how good the two are at avoiding one another it is clear Mark hasn't been in school the last few days, they aren't that good at not having crossed paths remotely once. Donghyuck couldn't help the pang of guilt. Donghyuck also knows that Jaemin isn't giving up, he's tapping his fingers against the desk as if he's hoping that'll prompt Donghyuck to talk. Jaemin is nonchalant about most things in life (aside from anything Renjun related), yet he doesn't back down and is evidently undaunted when it comes to getting what he wants.

"Well, nothing happened."

"Bullshit." Jaemin counters, without missing a beat.

Donghyuck is taken back by the harshness of his voice. Honestly, Donghyuck thought they would drag this out for longer, more like he was hoping he could keep up his charade of 'nothing happened' for longer, staying in his little bubble where he could pretend like everything was okay - like that night hadn't happened and he hadn't broken his best friends heart. Jaemin was the type to bug you to just the right level of being ridiculously annoying to get what he wanted out of you - driving you to insanity bit by bit was more his style unlike the current look of utter despair lacing his usually kind features.

"That's utter bullshit and you know it. Whatever fantasy charade you're keeping up by pretending everything’s okay is ending right now. You keep sighing in lessons, I can practically feel the anguish radiating off of you from the other side of town and here you are straight up lying to my face and just about everyone else, including yourself."

"Why do you care so much?" Hyuck didn't mean to sound so cold, it was just a second-nature defence mechanism at this point as well as being caught off-guard by Jaemin's sudden outburst.

Jaemin looks at him again, staring dead into Hyuck's eyes like he's searching for Donghyuck's last remaining brain cell, jokes on him though because it's not there. "Because Haechannie, I actually care about you and want to make sure you're okay as well as Mark. The tension between you two is downright depressing and I thought all the melodrama ended when Renjun and I got together but clearly, I was wrong, the two of you are so much worse. Both with permanent pouts on their faces, avoiding talking about whatever happened so no one can do anything to help which again, is just," Jaemin let out some disgruntled sound in lieu of an adjective but laced with the same disgust he was attempting to convey, "you see? Everyone has been here before, we're not all Jaehyun and Doyoung, you're more like Johnny and Ten and the utter mess that was the start of their best-friends-to-boyfriends transition. We all care about you; we all want to make sure that you're coping and not making yourself sick." Jaemin's now looking at him with one eyebrow raised as if Donghyuck's now supposed to magically understand whatever Jaemin's word vomit was actually implying.

Donghyuck lets his eyes wander over Jaemin's appearance, his hand griping his hair in anticipation of Hyuck's reply, pupils blown, wide and gazing at Donghyuck's face for any hint of emotion, looking slightly manic. Donghyuck evaluates his current position and with a deep breath he feels calmer, his muscles have relaxed, a smirk graces his face and-

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how are Johnny and Ten?"

6 NEW MESSAGES FROM RENJUN

I don't know what you did but you broke Jaemin

I've been trying to get him to shut up for years and you did it in less than half an hour

teach me your ways

he hasn't said anything since he got back, he's just sat there staring out the window with his mouth hanging open

Jisung and Chenle are seeing how many blueberries they can get in his mouth until he snaps out of it

they're up to nine

let me know how many they get up too

and tell Jaemin I'm sorry and that I'll

talk when I'm ready.

Donghyuck smiles, its only small but it’s his first genuine smile in a while.

- - - - -

     The rain is bouncing off the ground as he walks home, splashing his ankles and soaking the ends of his jeans. The temperature seems to have dropped by a million degrees since this morning and he's wishing he checked the weather app and put a warmer coat on. He's at the point where the harsh October air feels like it’s getting in his bones, just about every inch of him is freezing and just when he thinks things can't get any worse, as he turns the corner to his house he's met by a tall figure sat on the steps leading up to his door.

The rain is the last thing on his mind as he lets his umbrella drop to his side, tilting his head as if that would help him get a better look at the boy that's slouched over, flicking his phone between his hands.

Upon hearing Donghyuck let out a pathetic attempt at a cough in hopes of gaining the others attention, the mop of blonde hair moves until Hyuck is met with a heart-warming, lopsided smile he could recognise anywhere.

"Hey, Haechannie."

"Hello, what can I help you with?"

"I think you know why I'm here."

[matrixaffiliate]

A Twist of Fate

Co-written with @hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon

FFN and AO3

Chapter 14

Minos had the two half-deities celled separately from the 12 mortal tributes. The cell was small and dark, but there were cots at least. Sirius wondered if the show he'd put on was to thank for that.

Marlene led him by the hand to sit down with her on one of the cots. He was certain that she hadn't touched him this much the day before. Part of him savored every little touch, but the overwhelming fear that he would cross a line he couldn't uncross was not particularly pleasant.

The whole painful experience was made more confusing by the fact that she'd started to act the way she had. He wasn't sure he could let himself believe she was flirting. Perhaps she was just affectionate with him because he didn't fear her, and she'd made it clear that wasn't something that she had encountered often. That didn't mean she had real feelings for him. It certainly didn't mean that she wasn't betrothed to another man.

He stopped himself in his thoughts when he started rationalizing that she didn't even know the man. It was pointless to go down that road. Besides. They had a job to do.

"So," he ran his thumb along the back of her hand, "as much fun as giving Minos a headache was, I don't think I can actually annoy the Minotaur to death."

"No? Do you think you might try getting it drunk? Flirting with it? Teaching it to dance?" He was almost sure she was toying with him. The way she bit down on her lower lip was incredibly distracting.

Focus.

"Charming." He rolled his eyes, though the mental image of an inebriated dancing Minotaur was undeniably amusing. "You know that I was earnestly trying to think of a way my abilities might be useful?"

"Did you have any ideas?" She took his other hand in hers. Then she scooted in closer to him, face to face. His breath caught in his chest. He had focus hard and concentrate on the task at hand. Under no circumstances could he look into her eyes. So he looked down at their intertwined hands. That was barely an improvement at all.

"So dogs are used to track beasts. That's something. I could use my dog nose to help."

"You know," he could hear the smile on her voice, "you could. That's clever."

"You sound shocked. So rude, honestly!" He smirked and made the mistake of looking up at her. But Fate had smiled upon him because she had thrown her head back to laugh at him.

"I'm not shocked that you're clever. I'm shocked that you intend to have a plan. I thought you were allergic."

"Desperate times."Sirius chuckled, "Don't rat me out to my father."

"If you don't tell my mother that I've never felt so unsure of my own destiny as right now." Her voice went hollow. This fear was sucking the light out of her and Sirius hated it. He had no idea what he could do to help but he didn't have it in himself to refrain from trying.

He reached out and brushed his hand over her cheek. "Marlene…I don't know your destiny any more than the guard outside, but I really hope it's something good. You deserve something good."

"You actually did inherit your father's better qualities you know." She ran her fingers along his and Sirius felt it like an electric shock to his heart. "You're kinder than I gave you credit for, at first."

"I can be annoying and childish if it'd be a comfort to you?" He made a stab at humor, it was the only distance he could bring himself to accept at this point.

"You're ridiculous." She laughed at him. "Tell me a story. That would be a comfort right now."

Marlene shifted her position on the little cot to lying down. A little tilt of her head and gentle pull on his fingers was all it took to convince Sirius to do the same. This was getting incredibly dangerous, but he couldn't bring himself to put distance between them. He wanted to be close to her, even if it hurt.

She settled in against his chest, just as she had slept the night before. And Sirius forced himself to talk, because if he didn't talk he was going to kiss her.

"Well do you know how Zeus ended up married to Hera?" He trailed gentle touches along her back while he spoke, keeping his eyes on her shoulder.

"I don't," her voice was quiet now. "Did someone trick Zeus into thinking he was attending a conception party?"

"No," Sirius chuckled, his voice matching hers, "but that does sound like a party he'd attend. Or rather, it sounds like a party he'd host."

"Who exactly would accept such an invitation?" Marlene laughed, sliding her hands along his chest, "Surely not Hera."

"Not at all. But he did actually pursue Hera. Zeus begged her to be his wife and queen for hundreds of years and she always said no."

Her hand found its way up to his hair. She ran her fingers carelessly through his dark waves. He felt like he was losing his mind and if he didn't know better he'd say she was enjoying having this effect upon him.

"That was very rational of her. What changed?" Her voice gave away nothing. He wondered how much of this building tension between them was a product of his imagination? All of it, perhaps? Was this a dream?

"Zeus. He changed himself into a bird," Marlene's giggles made his heart jump. He couldn't help but laugh along with her as he continued the story, "a very pathetic drowning bird, specifically. She fell in love with the sad little bird. Once Hera was smitten, he transformed back to his usual Zeus shape and she agreed to marry him."

"The overarching theme in the Zeus stories is that he's a more attractive romantic prospect when he appears to be some sort of animal." She laughed harder. "I don't know how to feel about this."

He let himself get distracted by the laughter they were sharing, and he made a fatal mistake. He found himself looking straight into her eyes. Her smile shined through in those incredible bright blue eyes. She was magnetic and he was weak. His lips came down to meet hers and his mind went blank for a moment. He was void of thoughts and overflowing with feeling. Her perfect soft lips were pliant under him at first, then she was kissing back with an almost desperate hunger.

Suddenly thought came pouring back into his mind like Poseidon's most wrathful storm. He pulled away and gasped in too much air all at once.

"I'm sorry. I'm… sorry... You're to be married to someone else and I… shouldn't have… done that...I'm sorry." He couldn't look at her. He really wished his father had taught him how to disappear.

She said nothing in response but reached up to his face, and pulled him back in, kissing him with a fervor that had to mean something. Perhaps it was doomed not to last but he had to have been destined to kiss this woman without reservation this once. They felt too right together for him to believe this moment was anything other than his fate.

[imagine-loki]

I'm still breathing, Chapter 8

TITLE: I’m still breathing CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 8 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine a mutant has been living on the streets for years, until she is picked up by the Avengers. She’s taken to live with them so they can help her to discover what her powers are. Loki especially, takes an interest in her. The two become very fond of one another as they discover what her power is. RATING: M 

Red eyes flashed from the darkness. They were concentrating on Sophie. A low growl emitted from them, making Sophie gasp as she looked up to see them. Fear started to course through her veins. She turned and started to run, trying to escape in the darkness.

Loki tried to get his legs to move as he saw the frost giant chasing her. He found he couldn’t move, it was as if his legs were immobile. He tried calling out to her, screaming at her to run faster. But no words came out. All he saw was the flash of blue as it chased after the mutant.

It was too quick for Sophie and collided with her. Then everything went black. Loki screamed, trying to see what happened to her. When suddenly the frost giant slowly came into view. It was huddled over a body. Loki was able to move closer, until the giant stood up and turned around.

Loki let out a sob, as he was face to face with his frost giant self.

Loki abruptly shot up in bed. His body was sweating and he was trembling. He looked down at his arms, relieved to see they weren’t blue. That was the third night in a row he’d had that nightmare, he wasn’t sure why. But it was really grating on him.

After tossing and turning in bed for almost an hour, he gave up and decided to go to the library and read for a while. That always calmed his nerves down.

When he entered the library however, he was confused and surprised to find Sophie asleep on the floor by the sofa. He walked over towards her, the sound of his footsteps caused her to waken. She glanced up and smiled.

‘Hey, Loki.’ She said and closed her eyes again.

‘What are you doing asleep on the floor?’ He queried, raising an eyebrow up in amusement when she suddenly shot up and looked just as confused as he was.

‘I… Have no idea.’ She rubbed her eyes as she came to more, having been in a deep sleep prior to Loki coming along. ‘I was reading… On the sofa. I must have fallen asleep and… Fell?’ She went to stand up when a hand came in to view to help her. She took his hand and he hoisted her up to her feet.

‘Are you sure you’re not drunk?’ Loki teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

Sophie glared at him but laughed. ‘I am sure. I’ve never been drunk in my life.’ After wiping her clothes from any mess from the floor, she sat down on the sofa again and Loki sat next to her. ‘What are you doing up at this time?’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He shrugged, but Sophie could tell something was off.

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked.

Loki looked over at her and saw her genuinely looking concerned. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘I just keep having the same nightmare, or similar, for the last few nights. Where I am the monster that I am.’

‘Loki.’ She said in warning. ‘You are NOT a monster. Stop calling yourself that, or I will punch you!’

‘I’d like to see you try.’ Loki grinned, amused at her threat.

‘Don’t tempt me! I am getting stronger now, I’m sure I could stab the knife further into your stomach this time.’

Loki laughed at her cute threat, and reached out to trail his fingers up and down her arm. ‘I remember when the mere sight of me had you running scared.’ He said teasingly.

‘Well, that was before I knew you.’ She shrugged. ‘Stop trying to avoid the conversation. Why do you think you’re suddenly having nightmares?’

‘I have no idea. If I did, I would sort it out.’

‘What happens in them?’

Loki faltered, he’d been hoping she wasn’t going to ask that question. ‘I see a frost giant hunting down a human. When I reach them it’s too late, the giant turns and it is me.’

Sophie and Loki continued to talk through the night, but it didn’t help much as Loki still couldn’t figure out what his nightmares were about. Sophie wasn’t sure either, though she did try her best to help him. And he adored her even more for that. Her true personality was shining through more now she was with people she trusted. She was a kind soul, cheeky at times and playful. But tough. She was one of the strongest Midgardians that Loki had ever met, mentally and getting there physically. She and Loki were a good double act. He was already teaching her pranks to pull, good ones too, on the other Avengers.

The two ended up falling asleep together, with Sophie resting her head against his chest as he had his arm around her. In the morning, Thor was looking for them both and when he found them in the library, still sleeping peacefully, he smiled and left them alone.

When Sophie and Loki eventually woke up, Sophie’s hair was all messy making Loki laugh.

‘What?’ She asked sleepily.

‘Your hair is delightful, darling.’ He grinned, reaching up to smooth it out for her.

‘Yours isn’t much better.’ She grumbled.

‘Always so delightful first thing in the morning.’ He chuckled.

Sophie just grumbled again in response. She went back to her room to get changed into clean clothes and then she went for breakfast, meeting Loki there.

‘Nice to see you both awake after your stop out in the library.’ Thor chuckled, joining Loki and Sophie at their table.

‘Ohhh, a dirty stop out?’ Tony teased, sitting at the table with them too.

‘Thor you big blabber mouth. Neither of us could sleep, we went to read and then we ended up falling asleep there.’ Loki said as he glared sideways at his brother.

After eating breakfast, Natasha and Wanda dragged Sophie away to go shopping. Which she agreed to this time and actually went along.

Loki went to go to his room, but Thor caught up with him before he reached it. ‘Brother. I wish to talk.’

‘What about? I am not particularly in the mood to talk.’

‘But I bet you would be if I was Sophie.’ Thor grinned.

Loki stopped and turned his full attention to Thor. ‘Thor, if you were Sophie I would be deeply troubled.’

‘You know what I mean. She is what I wanted to talk to you about.’ Thor continued. ‘Is there more to you and Sophie than meets the eye? You both seem to have grown very close and I just wondered if there was more.’

‘What is that supposed to mean? Just because I have a friend who actually likes me more than you, you suspect something? Are you jealous that she has bonded with me and not you?’ Loki snapped.

Thor held his hands up in defence. ‘Loki, no need to get defensive. I was merely asking a question. I have not seen you so happy and relaxed in such a long time. I am happy for you and I actually was hoping there would be more to your relationship than the rest of us know about.’

Loki’s features softened slightly. Thor knew him too well though, he knew that Loki clearly liked her in more than just a good friend way. He always got overly defensive with that kind of thing. Never liked to admit his true feelings.

‘There is something I wanted to speak to you about.’ Loki sighed and motioned for Thor to go into his room.

The brothers sat down and Thor waited to hear what Loki had to say. It wasn’t often that Loki opened up to him about his feelings or anything really, so he was keen to hear what he had to say.

‘Maybe I do care for Sophie more than in a friendly way. However, I am sure having romantic interests is the least of her thoughts right now. And I am worried that I will end up hurting her.’

‘What? Why would you harm her?’ Thor frowned.

‘I once killed over 100 humans. She is a human. What happens if I lose control again? Or if my monster comes out.’

Thor knew what he meant by monster. His heart hurt for his brother.

‘Brother. You will not lose control again. You are in a good place now. I vowed to mother that I would look out for you and I will keep my word. I highly doubt the others would let you go off the rails either. And stop calling yourself a monster.’

‘I keep having these nightmares, for the past three nights. Where I am a frost giant and I kill her! Why else would I have them if it is not meant to warn me to stay away?’ Loki stood up, agitated.

Thor ran a hand down his face. ‘Loki. You will not hurt her. You’ve already saved her life, twice. I think these nightmares are stemming from your fear of committing. Or from coming to terms with your feelings for someone. There is nothing wrong with being scared. I was terrified when I first admitted to Jane my love for her. It’s natural, even for gods.’ Thor put his hand onto Loki’s shoulder.

‘But why would I dream of killing her? A bit extreme, is it not?’

‘Perhaps. But you have always been one for being extreme with your actions and emotions, Loki. Relax, enjoy your time with her. Tell her how you feel if you think it will help, or don’t.’ Thor shrugged. ‘But either way, we all know you would not harm her. Have you told her about your Jotun form?’

‘Yes, I have. She’s told me repeatedly that I am no monster.’ Loki said sheepishly.

‘Maybe you need to show her, so that you can see her reaction. That might put your mind to rest?’ Thor suggested.

That evening, Sophie could tell something was still bothering Loki. He was antsy and on edge, she’d never seen him like that before.

‘Are you alright?’ She asked when they left the living room after watching a film with everyone.

‘I… I need to show you something.’ Loki blurted out before he changed his mind. 

‘Ok… What is it?’ Sophie raised an eyebrow at him, confused.

‘Come with me.’ Loki put his hand out for her to take.

He led her to his room and put the Hulk force field up, making Sophie even more confused and unsure.

‘Like this isn’t weird or suspicious at all, Loki?’ She folded her arms over her chest.

Loki took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face. ‘I… I want to show you my true form.’

Sophie took a second to process what he’d just said. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, Loki. Why do you want to?’ She asked softly.

Loki looked a bit like a fish, as he opened his mouth but was unsure on what to say for a moment. ‘You are the first person here that I actually have a connection with. You are the only person to stick up for me. Especially after what I did to your planet. I think the nightmares I’ve been having is because I am scared that if you were to see my true form for some reason, that you may run for the hills. So if I show you now, then at least you can see me for the true monster I am.’

‘Loki, you are not’

Loki cut her off by putting his hand up. ‘Just, let me show you first. Please. I need to do this. You’ve opened yourself up to me, trusted me with your past. I want to share mine.’

Sophie had never seen Loki look so vulnerable before. She perched on the edge of his bed and nodded at him.

Loki looked down and closed his eyes. He concentrated and felt the cold engulf his skin. He let out a breath and opened his eyes after he heard nothing from the mutant.

Her eyes were wide, but instead of fear or disgust in them was instead awe. He wasn’t sure what to think. No words came from him while she stood up and walked towards him, taking in his appearance. She reached up to touch his face, but he stepped back.

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ He said quickly.

‘You won’t… I kind of researched about Jotuns and learned that you will only give me frostbite if you want to.’ She said softly and stepped in close to him again.

Loki sighed and leaned down slightly, nodding to her. He closed his eyes when she reached out towards him and he let out a gasp when he felt her fingers touch his cheek.

Sophie trailed her fingers up and down his face, over the markings he had and across his forehead.

‘You are still beautiful, even in this form. Thank you, for trusting me to show me.’ She said softly when he opened his eyes and held her hand against his cheek.

He slowly turned back into his Aesir form, Sophie found it rather fascinating to feel his skin change temperature so drastically under her hand.

‘Thank YOU for making me feel like I can trust someone indefinitely. For trusting me too with your own secrets.’ He said as he turned his head to kiss her palm.