#man i really am dedicated to a time skip au now huh?

[luciddaydreamingworlds]

Got height difference and more character designs and shipping and crashing out. Maybe I'll do something more coherent with all this later.

[ohayohimawari]

And it was Love at First Brawl

A drabble written for Day 7 of @kakaobiweek Violet | Music | Fantasy

This is another humorous piece appropriate for teen-and-up readers and set in a modern AU.

This drabble is heavily inspired by my good friend @azuzeldraws incredible art series, Metal Konoha, and I dedicate this chapter to her. Thank you, Zu, for letting us use your amazing work to promote this event!

And it was Love at First Brawl

It was one of those Friday nights when Kakashi left the restaurant with a stomach full of his favorite supper and an empty soul after dining alone.

Though the day neared its end, Konoha’s club district was just beginning to wake. The streets were full of jaywalkers, inexperienced parallel-parkers, and the night owl versions of early birds lined up in boisterous queues waiting for the bars to open.

Kakashi felt entirely out of place and maybe almost too old for this scene while he dutifully waited at the corner for the pedestrian crossing light to signal his turn. He stepped into the crosswalk once it was safe, and he saw a man on the opposite side, jogging towards the intersection to cross before the light changed.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, entirely entranced.

He watched the individual blades of the other man’s black, unruly hair as they bounced with each step. He wore a t-shirt that fitted him like he was born to wear it and a healthy glow on every inch of exposed skin. His sparkling eyes met Kakashi’s as he trotted past him on the street and offered a greeting through a roguish grin. “Hey.”

And that was all it took.

Being a classic lit teacher, he had a multitude of words at his disposal. That man was vivacity personified, and Kakashi turned on his heel, following him with his eyes. The dark-haired man ran right up to the door of the seediest bar on the street and gleefully skipped up the stairs. He exchanged laughter and a handshake with the bouncer and disappeared inside.

The pedestrian light flashed red, alerting Kakashi that he still stood in the middle of the street. His feet moved of their own accord, and a moment later, his brain agreed with their plan. He retraced his steps, abandoning his intention to go home, knowing he would abandon much more than that for a chance to meet the stranger that charmed him.

As driven as he was, Kakashi hesitated for a moment outside of the club, assessing it. The sidewalk in front of it was littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, and two people appeared to be doing something he didn’t want to interrupt in the shadows of the alley next to it. Then, he assessed himself.

He was dressed more casually than usual, out for a date with nobody but him, wearing a t-shirt that featured a band called ROOT. He had no idea who they were, or why they used all capital letters, but his students chose it from the trendy store Boiling Subject as a gift for him, and it was comfortable after wearing a tie all day. Deciding that his attire was appropriate for the venue, Kakashi walked up the stairs that led to the door, where he was stopped by the same menacing bouncer that laughed only moments before.

“You sure you wanna do this?” The man growled through scarred lips.

“Pretty sure,” Kakashi replied, though his confidence wavered.

“We don’t want any trouble.” The man’s muscles bulged in a show of strength as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t want to bring any,” Kakashi replied, honestly.

“Let him in, Ibiki.” A pony-tailed bartender wearing a high-cut shirt that showed more cleavage than fabric chastised the bouncer.

“Whatever you say, Anko,” Ibiki moved aside to allow Kakashi into the bar.

As foreboding as the exchange was, it caught the attention of the handsome dark-haired stranger who stood at the bar. Bolstered, Kakashi stood in the space next to him.

“What can I getcha, hon?” Anko tossed a stained cardboard coaster onto the bar in front of him.

“A beer,” Kakashi ordered as if he’d never been to a pub before, too nervous to recall his favorite drink.

Anko retrieved a bottle from the cooler behind her while Kakashi withdrew a few bills from his wallet. Then, he wrapped his hand around the bottle of Lone Ninja Star she offered after opening it with her teeth.

Kakashi ignored how unhygienic it was to take a sip from the bottle as he did it, glancing around the bar, looking everywhere but at the man that led him there. It was half-full of patrons in various stages of sobriety and had a stage all set up and waiting for a band to perform. When he finished noting where all the emergency exits were, the most incredible thing happened.

“Cheers,” Mr. Vivacity said, bringing their beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Kakashi replied, then pulled a long swig from the bottle, savoring the moment that the man of his dreams had spoken first.

“So, uh,” the dark-haired man glanced down at Kakashi’s shirt, and a chuckle bubbled out of him, “you like this band too?” He tilted his head in the direction of the stage.

“Um, yeah," Kakashi stammered, "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool," Mr. Vivacity replied with a smile that made Kakashi's knees buckle. "Which of their CDs is your favorite?"

Kakashi's quick mind kicked into gear on the spot. If the band had multiple releases, then the safest answer would be, "I think their first one."

"Really?" The dark-haired man appeared pleasantly surprised. "So, you're an old-school fan, huh?"

“Yep, I guess I am,” Kakashi laughed a little awkwardly and brought his beer back to his lips.

“I think my favorite track on that one is, Kill Me With Your Kekkei Genkai,” Mr. Vivacity nodded, thinking aloud, and Kakashi felt his eyes bulge, worried that he might not be able to keep up the facade. But then he was spared when the other man suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, my name is—”

“Crybaby Tobi, you finally made it!” A man with slicked blonde hair and wearing a shirt with religious cult symbols literally crashed into their conversation, spilling his beer on Kakashi’s shirt.

The unwelcome interruption glanced at him. “My bad,” he drawled unapologetically, looking down at the soiled shirt. Then, his eyes shot up to meet Kakashi’s.

“WHOA! You’ve got balls, man!”

“Thank you,” Kakashi decided to take it as a compliment, turning towards the bar to grab a few napkins. He blotted at his shirt when Anko shouted to him that there was a hot air dryer in the men’s room, and, as much as Kakashi didn’t want to walk away from Mr. Crybaby before he could learn his real name, he didn’t want to stand there like an idiot in a wet ROOT t-shirt.

By the time he exited the bathroom, a makeshift merchandise table had appeared near it, so he bee-lined to it to learn more about the band to contribute to a conversation about them. At least, now he knew the band’s name was ANBU, and he wondered what was up with bands using all capital letters.

He had barely begun to browse the tracklist on the back of one of the CDs when the purple-haired, facial-pierced woman at the table asked, “You gonna buy that?”

Something about her tone made Kakashi feel obligated to pull out his wallet, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

“I don’t have change for that,” she deadpanned, bored, and sarcastic.

Suddenly, the bar erupted with shouting, so Kakashi quickly grabbed a second CD to even out the exchange and hurried back to the bar and Mr. Vivacity, or Crybaby, or whoever he was.

Then, his heart sank when he saw that the other man wasn’t there anymore.

Kakashi stood in front of the stage feeling like the biggest fish out of water when the club’s sound system screamed into life with the ear-splitting sound of feedback through the amps. Kakashi covered his ears and spun around in time to catch the band taking their positions onstage.

The singer set down a six-pack next to his mic and yanked one can of beer free from it. He held it sideways in his hand, pulled out a kunai, and stabbed it in the middle before bringing the punctured hole to his mouth.

“Tenzō! Tenzō! Tenzō!” The crowd chanted while he shotgunned the beer and cheered when he crushed the empty can against his head. He grabbed the microphone in front of him when his large, almond eyes made bigger by copious amounts of black eyeliner landed on Kakashi.

“What the fu —” He roared, launching himself off the stage, tackling Kakashi to the ground.

Even though he was a classic lit teacher, Kakashi held his own for a long time in a fight against a bar full of punks until he took one bottle to the head too many and woke up in the alley next to the bar.

“Hey,” Kakashi winced as he turned his head to see who spoke to him, already recognizing that voice and feeling a little happier than concussed. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kakashi muttered, “thanks, Mr. Crybaby.”

“It’s Obito,” the other man laughed, “and you’re welcome, Mr. Metalhead.”

“I didn’t fool you for a second, did I?” Kakashi licked at his fattened, split bottom lip, hoping he looked like he deserved sympathy. “I’m Kakashi, by the way.”

Obito snickered and pressed a bag of ice against Kakashi’s head. “I figured you didn’t quite know what you walked into, wearing a ROOT t-shirt to an ANBU gig.”

“What was that all about?”

“Tenzō used to be the drummer for that band, but he had a big blow-up with their manager, Danzō, so he quit and formed his own band. There’s a lot of bad blood there.”

Kakashi looked down, embarrassed, not knowing what to say and feeling like a total idiot.

“Why did you come to the bar?” Obito asked quietly.

Kakashi sighed through his nose. If he learned anything that night, it was that honesty probably came with less violence. “You.”

“Me?” Obito asked, even more timidly.

“Yeah,” Kakashi glanced up at him. “You passed me on the street, and, I… I just had to meet you,” he felt a little like a weirdo admitting it out loud, but he was past the point of stopping now. “I dunno, I, I just had a feeling, and I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

“Me too,” Obito confided, lowering the bag of ice, and Kakashi peered at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I was just about to run back out when you showed up at the door. I uh, I’m the sound guy here,” he tilted his head towards the bar, “and I was running late; otherwise, I would’ve stopped right there in the crosswalk. But when I saw the band was running late, I was about to go after you,” he ended with a shy smirk.

“You’re the sound guy?” Kakashi’s brain was turning to mush and it had nothing to do with how many blows he took to the face.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Obito brought the ice back up to Kakashi’s head, “I messed with their levels hoping the feedback would distract Tenzō long enough for you to get out of his line of sight, but,” he grimaced.

“You wanna go for a drink with me?” Kakashi mumbled, knowing he couldn’t embarrass himself anymore that night.

Obito chuckled at him and held up his hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Kakashi focused on the fingers in front of his face. “Three?”

Obito laughed louder and stood up, “Wrong.” He helped Kakashi to his feet, “Looks like Konoha ER is our first date.”

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.1

The Recruitment

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2120

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Every hero has an origin story. Yours not soall that great. One more reason not to mention it during the first face to face meeting with DD. ...right.

Warnings: mention of death, mentions of violence, swearing, fluff, mild angst…?

Story Mastelist

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“No, no way. I’m not doing it,” you exclaimed resolutely, spinning on your heels.

Heavy, yet somewhat gentle hand fell on your shoulder, turning you back. You bit your lip and looked up at your boss and the closest friend in one person.

His eyebrow was raised in challenge. “Are disobeying your orders?”

You could hear his light teasing just like the serious note in his tone. And of course, Captain America’s authoritative voice was unmistakable. You just gaped.

“It’s a waste of time, St�� Captain,” you bit back wryly and he made a disapproving face.

“Don’t pull that out, you know I-“

“Yes, Captain?”

His expression turned annoyed at the interruption and your snarky tone.

You knew you were being cranky, but trying to convince Daredevil, freaking Daredevil, the patron not-exactly-saint of Hell’s Kitchen, was not on your I’d-love-to-do-this list. More like the opposite. That guy was very obviously a lone wolf who loved playing on his own playground and you were not judgemental of that – he was dedicated to his home and that was fine. His way of saying no to joining the Avengers might be a bit rude, but given how many people – well, people – had been trying to convince him to step up to the plate and think on a larger scale than ten blocks, you couldn’t really blame him.

Steve’s hands caressed your shoulders and you bit your lip harder. His baby blue eyes were staring at the bottom of your soul, making you shiver. He had beautiful eyes, serious most of the time, getting incredibly charming when a spark of mischief appeared in them; and make no mistake, Captain America had a lot of mischief in himself despite the righteousness radiating from him to miles.

You blinked, trying to escape his gaze; it was annoying how it always sent your heart racing.

“Just give it a try. No one will be angry with you if you fail. I won’t either. But I believe in you,” he pronounced softly, making you swallow embarrassingly loudly when his thumbs caressed your shoulders.

Jeez, you were such a sucker for his ‘I believe in you’.

Of course, you had a good reason. His speech had been the one that inspired you to join the team. To stop pitying yourself and woman up – yes, that was exactly the term he had used, because his love for strong women was infinite –, to use your accidently gained powers to do some good. He had been the one to find you almost five months ago in the completely frozen lab – your work, not that you had intended it –, shaking, but not from cold. You had been scared to death – you had killed people. You had killed the people who had been trying to help you-- and he had come to you, slowly, putting his shield away despite your warnings and offered you a literal helping hand, promising he hadn’t been there to harm you and he had believed you wouldn’t have hurt him. That he had believed in you.

You fought tears at the memory – you always had. You had hurt him in the end – just a little frostbite really, nothing his super-soldier’s body couldn’t handle – and yet, you had felt almost as sorry as for taking the other people’s lives. But Steve Rogers hadn’t been mad at you. He had stuck around, helped you to get a hold of your powers and the two of you had become colleagues slash friends. Very close friends, actually. Also, you had a bit of a crush on him, but who hadn’t.

“Goddammit, Steve,” you whined silently and his face lit up as he realized he had won. Not from his boss position, no; he had won the way he always had, as a friend of yours.

“I knew I could count on you, Frosty,” he whispered, enclosing you in a short gentle hug.

You rolled your eyes. “You know, Rogers, for someone who napped for about seventy years in ice, you really are pushing your luck.”

Secretly, you loved the nickname he gave you. People called you Frostbite, but Steve never had, aware what kind of a painful reminder of what you had done to him and everyone else the first time using your uncontrollable powers it was. No, he called you Frosty or Snowflake, because he was a sweetheart. Tony, on the other hand, was a dick, calling you Elsa. The others called you either your first name, or your last name. And then there was Thor, calling you the Lady of Ice. You loved your team. It was a delight to work with them. A very exhausting delight.

“Nah, you like me too much.”

You scoffed. He was perfectly on point of course. “I still don’t understand why it’s not you coming, Captain Righteousness. I’m sure you would have handled him better, oh Star Spangled Man with a Plan.”

He let go of you, ruffling your hair to show how much he was still cranky about Clint showing you the videos, both old and rather recent ones. To be fair, you deserved that; but you couldn’t help but tease him about it; some of them were cute, while the others were just hilarious.

“Careful, you still have a problem for saying a bad word.” You rolled your eyes. You had said ‘goddammit.’ Wuss. “And I do have a plan.”

You expectantly raised your eyebrows, curious. He winked.

“I have you.”

────── ·❆· ──────

‘This is ridiculous. I’m tracking a man in a Devil suit in, myself in an icily blue catsuit, Captain America’s voice in my ear. What is my life?’

“Still copy?”

“Yep.”

“He’s around the Piers 42/44, heading North.”

“Rogers that,” you mumbled, not fighting the smirk that always found its way to your lips when talking to Steve via comms, saying ‘Rogers that’ instead of just ‘Roger’. It was just too funny and you needed funny in your life. Even if you could basically hear him rolling his eyes at that. Rude.

You created an ice slide, rising and falling to help you to move faster. Tony had designed special shoes for you to move easily on it, while not giving yourself a shiner – it had taken quite a lot of tries and lots of black-eyes plus one broken radius, but hell if it hadn’t been worth it. Ha, hell.

Never mind. You had a task to complete.

You saw him now, the Devil. He slowed down visibly, which surprised you. He had actually managed to disappear on Tony in the sewers once. He had walked away in the middle of Cap’s recruitment speech, ignorant. Sure, he hadn’t shaken Natasha off, but hadn’t agreed either. Thor and Clint hadn’t tried yet. You wondered what Devil’s strategy was this time.

He stopped completely then and you landed few steps from him, a bit wary. You had done your reading on the Devil; he was fast, efficient and didn’t hesitate to break a bone or two. Or six. To be fair, you read about why he did it, on what occasions, and you truly weren’t judgemental.

“Wasn’t expecting any black ice tonight. It’s only September,” he commented nonchalantly, his voice deep. Not necessarily hostile though – you took that as a win.

Perhaps Steve knew what he was doing, sending you – you weren’t as notoriously famous as the others who had actually been present during The Battle of New York were, so maybe the Devil found it refreshing or something.

You wordlessly let your icy toboggan-bridge disappear. “Daredevil.”

“Why are you here? Have your teammates not gotten the message yet? Did you draw the shortest straw today?”

“Something like that.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Why?” you asked, already guessing the answer.

Because he belonged in the Hell’s Kitchen. Because he was a vigilante, not a hero, not an Avenger.

“I don’t really feel like fighting aliens. And someone needs to take down drug rings and smaller things that escape your notice,” he replied wryly and you sighed.

“You think we don’t see that?”

“Press harder.”

“Sounds like you don’t, given what your friend is saying,” he noted and you closed your eyes in defeat.

Steve’s voice was quiet, for you only, but it wasn’t news the Devil had extraordinary hearing. You couldn’t quite blame him for not liking you coming alone and not alone at all. You reached to your ear, turning your communicator off.

Daredevil tilted his head, seemingly confused.

“You think they don’t see that?” you corrected yourself, letting out the doubts you had despite the warm (ha) welcome the Avengers gave you. “You’re needed here. What you do matters, which is why they are letting you.”

“Why are you saying ‘them’?”

“Do I look like an Avenger to you?”

“You sure call yourself that.”

“Well, I don’t feel like one. But I let them talk me down. I’m a destroyer, yet, they convinced me I can help. And maybe I found a calling. Maybe I found a way to possibly redeem myself,” you whispered, being sure the Devil would hear you. He heard everything.

“I am answering a calling. By doing what I do,” he replied, aiming for firm, but failing. Could he tell the emotion behind your voice, the way you opened unexpectedly (to your own surprise too)? Could he hear the regret? Did he imagine what had caused it? Did it move him?

“And I understand that. Actually, kudos for aiming for achievable goal of managing ten blocks of Manhattan and not letting your ego get in the way too much. I mean, these guys are trying to save the world, talk about unrealistic goals,” you noted, lightening up the mood a little.

You imagined the man behind the mask frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m confused now. Are you still trying to get me to join, or…?”

You chuckled. “Doesn’t look like it, huh? I guess that’s fair.”

The corner of his lips quirked in an approximation of a smile. Your heart skipped a beat. You bet neither of your Avenging friends managed to do that. Not that this was a competition or a manipulation – you were being completely honest. Painfully so.

“I… I’m gonna be honest with you. Steve wants you on this one. And frankly, I have no idea why-“ you paused, realizing how it sounded. “I mean— I know why, we can always use some help saving the world and stuff, but... yeah. So just once for now, let’s team up. No strings attached.”

“That was quite a direct strike. Didn’t see that coming,” he chuckled and you blinked, your eyelashes brushing your eye-mask.

Did he just chuckle? Did he laugh at you? Not that he didn’t have the right, but it was still a bit incredible. His face returned to the mask of seriousness. For some reason, it seemed softer now. “It was… Steve, wasn’t it? You say they convinced you, but you mean Steve Rogers.”

You escaped his gaze – or you thought so. Escaped the way the glassy eye-covers of his helmet burned through you. Whatever.

“Yes,” you whispered. He didn’t comment on that. But you would swear he relaxed.

“How did you get your powers?”

You froze almost literally at the direct question. Well, he sure wasn’t beating around the bush. What was it to him? Was it a test? Did he want to know you before saying no? Was he considering a yes? Did he trust you?

You licked your lips, fighting a shiver.

“Untested treatment. I had a rare liver disease and they tested a treatment with some chitauri crap on me. I always had troubles with thermoregulation. The meds messed it up on a completely different level.”

“I’m sorry.” And he genuinely sounded as if he was, his voice dropping.

“I didn’t ask for this. I hurt people. I’m paying my debt, because I think it’s the only thing I can do apart from creating icicles and toboggans for kids and do some cold-drying of fruit for missions,” you said seriously and his shoulders slightly shook with laughter. You found yourself smiling too. Dammit, how did you switch from misery to joking so fast in one sentence?

“No strings attached?” he asked slowly and your mouth literally fell open. Did he just-

“Did you just-?”

“Yeah. How bad it can be? Plus, your friend is approaching with the jet, I guess he didn’t like you turning your comms off.”

“Oh I’m gonna be on detention for like a week, okay. Or until they need another cold-drying, Tony’s addicted to his dried blueberries.”

The Devil chuckled once more before a cute smile settled on his lips. He took several steps closer to you. “I’m sure they’re delicious.”

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Part 2

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Tags:  @murdermornings​ @mermaidxatxheart​

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Heya, people :) I decided to share one of my older fics with the tumblr, I hope a few of you will like it O:-) Whenever you want to be (un)tagged in anything of mine, shoot me an ask or a message or something like that. 

Thank you for reading :-*

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) {3}

Summary: When emotions run high, even soulmates fight. But, following his brother’s advice, Ethan finds a way to make up for it by including his soulmate in solving a conspiracy theory leading to events that would surely make them much closer than they first were. Plus, it shows what a dynamic duo they make.

Warnings: angst, fluff, sexual innuendos, swearing

Word count: 7.5k

Fix Me (doctor/soulmate AU) series Masterlist

A/N - heavily inspired by Grey’s anatomy, my own experiences and thoughts, but also by songs: Birdy - Not about angels, Bear’s den - Fortress, Matthew and the atlas - Out of the darkness, Harry Styles - Falling, Kodaline - Wherever you are.

I really hope you guys like it! Feedback is always wanted and appreciated, no matter how small or big it is!

If you want to be tagged for future parts, reply down below.

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Induratize – to make one’s own heart hardened or resistant to someone’s pleas or advances, or the idea of love

Pain. That's her first grasp on reality. It's not something she's unused to; just as she's used to the smell of the disinfectant, Y/N knew of pain in all varieties. However, for the first time ever, she had something different in a hospital setting - a hand to hold.

From time to time, Ethan’s eyes drop to the bed sheets, but mostly they are fixed on her ashen face in a soft stare so that whenever she opens her eyes he’d be the first thing she sees. And once he notices her fingers twitch in his hold, he holds his breath in anticipation of her reaction. He feared she might be unhappy with his presence, but he refused to let go, simply closing his eyes to hide his vigilance.

Opening her eyes in a flash, her neck cracked with the sudden movement for she had to see who the hand belonged to. For a moment she thought it might be one of her parents, the painkillers playing with her mind, making her forget. But she knew it couldn't be them. It was impossible unless there was a new drug that raises the dead.

"Grant?" She croaked, her throat scratchy and her voice hoarse, the consequences of her throat closing leaving her with something to remember for a few days. Who knew she'd manage to get a penicillin allergy after her...fiftieth time taking it? She always felt like a magnet for bad luck and that incident didn't dissuade her.

Ethan wasn't really asleep, not after the night he's had. She needed oxygen more than once and her blood pressure kept dropping even with his efforts to keep it up. It felt like she decided to leave him and no matter how badly he fought for her, she was slipping through his fingers like sand.

"Yes?" He murmured, eyes still closed, lips set in a frown as if hearing her call him Grant didn't make his heart jump. He wasn't a morning person and she just realized it. Three nights they've truly known each other, three nights spent together and only on the third did she stay long enough to learn that and the only reason why she stayed is because she was physically incapable of leaving.

"Do I have the fucking plague?" She cracked a smile, struggling to speak but for a reason she couldn't quite understand, Y/N wanted to speak to him, for him, to make him laugh. The frown on his face hurt her more than it should.

She didn't get a smile, but he did open one eye in uncertainty, allowing him to bask in her meek smile. It wasn't much to someone watching from the sidelines, but it meant the world to him. She wanted to cheer him up. She wanted to see him smile. Even with her know it all, sassy, fuck the world mask, Y/N cared for Ethan and he knew that now. Even if that part of her is small, it's a start. Her heart may be hardened to love and soulmates, but he was softening her up. It’s a slow, difficult process, but Ethan is nothing if not dedicated.

"No. Neither of us got the plague, but the man who did have it died." Ethan told her, deciding hiding it from her isn't wise. She'd ask about him anyway.

Clearing her throat, she pulled her hand out of his, wiping it on the sheets as if his touch is unwanted - as if he was the one who initiated the whole thing.

"Great, so when can I get back to work?" She propped herself up on her elbows, willing to get back on her feet. In her ambition to get back in the operating room, Y/N completely missed the dismissive shake of Ethan's head and the way he jumped to his feet to pull her back.

"You're not going anywhere. In fact, you're on leave for the next week." Ethan stated, a little harshly for his taste but she gets his blood boiling way too easily and he always falls for it. She's a beautiful woman, but it's not her beauty that drives him insane.

"What do you mean? I'm an intern! Interns don't take sick days!" She insisted, sitting right back up, the stress his words caused raised her cortisol and adrenaline levels up in an instant. In all his years, he had never met a woman as stubborn as she is. For Ethan, Y/N was either wildly naive or dangerously intelligent and it is the kindness of her heart and the sharpness of her mind that enriched her soul and drew his close.

"Well, they do when their boss says so and I'm saying so. I've talked to the chief and he agrees. So, you better not show up here before next week and when you do come back, you will be doing scut for a week." Eyebrows knit together, eyes hard, Ethan seemed like an unrelenting force she couldn't fight. Not now when sitting up made her woozy and she knew he was right.

Not that's she'd tell him that.

Ever.

"Why scut?! As if being home isn't punishment enough? What am I being punished for? Huh?" Lowering her voice, Y/N felt her heart skip as the thoughts formed in her head and her mouth was quick to follow. Sometimes she acted on impulse and it wasn't always for the better.

"For leaving the morning after? Because I'm not your hookup, Grant, I am your intern. You don't get to tear into me just because I fucked you once." Swallowing thickly as she stared at his impassive face, she knew she went too far and it wasn't the time nor place and far from the way she wanted to address that night. She was just angry, trying to get some control over the situation she had no way of controlling and it absolutely drove her mad. Perhaps she wanted to get a rise out of him too. So she fucked up. She could tell just by the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched and the warm flames in his eyes were extinguished.

"You have your orders. I have nothing else to say to you." Ethan turned on his heel and before she had a chance to stop him, to apologize, to thank him for saving her life, Ethan was already gone and she was left with regret and guilt.

Too used to pushing people away to protect herself, Y/N now spent her time hating herself for being so quick to speak her mind. Maybe if she was softer, playing dumb like men expect girls to, Ethan would have let her come back to work. But no, she couldn't hold her tongue and she could never play dumb to get anyone's approval. She'd hate herself more if she did.

However, she could always annoy him for progress. What more could he do? He already put her in the corner for doing everything right and then he gave her the worst job for a week to keep punishing her! At least she could get some justice by getting on his nerves, texting him random facts about animals, sending him memes on mean bosses and even voicemails where she talks herself to death about how she was right and he wasn't. All she got was Seen and a daily delivery of chicken soup with bagels and a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice. The Get Better basket never had a note, but she knew it was his doing. Ethan cared, even if it’s a little and she couldn’t hide the smile that appeared on her lips every morning she received his thoughtful gift.

But Ethan was worse off than her. After finally having her back in his life, he managed to make himself the enemy. And he knew what he was doing was for her own good so she wouldn't make the same mistakes again, so she could use the week off to get back on her feet because going into anaphylactic shock isn't a walk in the park like she pretended to be. If he didn't bench her she would have put her health at risk and he couldn't let her do it.

Eunoia – beautiful thinking, a well mind

"You sent her home?" Grayson whisper shouted, swiftly pulling Ethan into the on-call room.

"She almost died! What am I supposed to do? Put a scalpel in her hand and let her cut someone open when she's barely standing on her own two feet?!" Ethan wasn't quite as quiet as his brother, his emotions on the verge of spilling out like a river once the dam breaks. Ethan always went through the extremes – he either loved too much or didn’t care at all, the same could apply to his temper.

"No, but you could have let her do paperwork? To observe? To watch your department for you?" Grayson listed which made Ethan's eyes widen, realizing he might have been harder on her than he thought. She’s too good at pushing his buttons, he knew it, but this good? For him to think so irrationally he couldn’t understand his own choices or see beyond his emotions? Never did he realize her influence went so deep.

"Just look at it this way: if you got sent home for a week in your intern year, you'd hate the attendee who did it. And she's more than just an intern and you need to be more careful if you want her to see you as more than just her boss. You're acting like a soulmate not a professional." Grayson explained and his clarification had stumped Ethan. He really needs to think before he acts but she makes all rational thought go out the window.

"But I also gave her a week of scut." Ethan sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. He couldn't take it back just like that because she'd see him as easily manipulated and he couldn't allow that to spread among the other interns. He had to be a little harder than he should if she wanted to know that everything she got was due to her hard work and not because she slept with him or because she is his soulmate.

"You're in big trouble. But I do recommend you to find a way to work with her on something. It doesn't have to be a surgery and it doesn't have to be in this hospital. Find something to connect over."

Thinking how his brother is now the one who has his shit together made Ethan smile but it also made him worry. Isn't Grayson the one who does things impulsively and fucks things up? Seems like that's no longer the case but at least the advice he gave Ethan was enough for him to get an idea.

It took him a couple of days but when inspiration struck, Ethan was so excited for the implementation of his plan for more than one reason – it was for the greater good and he’d get to see her again. Any excuse to do that was more than exhilarating.

He didn't wait after his shift was done, driving to her apartment with the sole intention of convincing her of a theory many would think was insane but he was sure it was a conspiracy she could help him with.

Knocking on her door, he exhaled loudly, shaking his hands vigorously to get the nerves out. It took everything in him to stop himself from running because his heart beating so loudly was driving him insane and quite literally making him panic.

When the door finally cracked open, Y/N peeking through, Ethan felt his heart calm down and his lips pressed together.

After the way she attacked him the last time they saw each other, Ethan didn't expect her to smile at him nor let him in so easily, however, she opened the door widely and gestured for him to come inside.

He was still angry about how she spoke to him, the crudeness of her words making his blood boil but he also missed her in the past five days she had been away and he desperately needed to see her.

"What can I do for you, boss?" She leaned against a wall, looking at him intently with a small smirk upon her lips. It fell odd having him in her private life, as if he was slowly infiltrating every part of her life, making it impossible for her to ignore how badly she wanted to rip his clothes off and ride him until they're both sweaty and tired with loopy, lazy smiles as they hold each other close even after they finish.

Blushing with her thoughts, Y/N cleared her throat as it seemed Ethan wasn't listening to her before and was too busy looking around. He wanted to see her life, the part of her he'd never know if she was just an intern.

He loves the flowery light scent of the room, even more so the colorful yellow walls and green couch. He loved the art hanging on the walls and the way her carpets were all flower themed. Her entire apartment, or at least what he saw so far, had a spring theme and Ethan felt at ease.

"I'm assuming you're here for a reason, not for decorating ideas?" She cocked an eyebrow, speaking louder this time around and it certainly got his attention even if him turning around had made her breath halt in her throat. It enraged her just how attractive he is.

'Why does he have to be so fucking sexy? Like, he’s just kinking his eyebrow and not even in the obvious, over the top way he usually does! He does it so casually, so unaware that it only makes it sexier and damn it, Ethan Grant Dolan, you are ruining men for me!'

But she doesn't say any of her thoughts out loud, only swallows thickly, reminding herself of the reasons why he's not right for her.

"I have a theory and I need your help to confirm it." Swiping his thumb under his bottom lip, Ethan stepped closer. "I had a patient a while ago with breast cancer and her heart was failing due to chemo. After two doses. So, I did some tests and found there were no signs of breast cancer." Ethan waited for her to realize where he's going with this, wanting to see how quick she is on her feet and not even a second later she stood up, no longer casually leaning on the wall.

"So they're giving chemo to earn more money to patients who don't need it? They're purposefully giving people fake cancer diagnosis? How are their stats?" She spoke quickly, passionately as if she was angry, wanting to start a war. And he liked it - the way she thinks, the way her mind works and how it perfectly matched him. What he lacked, she compensated for and what she lacked, he was more than capable to cover for her. They were, despite all odds, a very dynamic duo and Ethan would soon find out just how well they work together.

"They have a ninety percent success rate for breast cancer patients." Ethan noted and he knew she was on board by the way her fists clenched and her eyes hardened. It felt like she was fire and he would have to contain it - contain her, although he’d love to set her loose on the world and see just how extensive the ruin would be.

"Well, I assume you want me to go with you and act like I found a lump so they can misdiagnose me and order me to be on chemo? To see how it works before we burn them to the ground?" She crossed her arms, raising both eyebrows in expectation and even if he wanted to, Ethan would follow her - to the ends of the Earth if necessary.

Forelsket – the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love

"Welcome to Smooth Cat." Ethan exclaimed as the passenger door closed and she joined him inside. She didn't quite linger on the car, barely sparing it a glance at first and he knew right away no amount of expensive shiny things will win her over. She wanted something deeper than his pockets.

"You named your car Smooth cat?" She deadpanned, her determination for this case wavering as the amusement showed in her eyes. For once, Ethan managed to make her break the cold surface with just words. Although he didn't think it was as ridiculous as her tone made it out to be.

"Don't hate the kitty when it purrs so nicely and runs so smoothly." Ethan responds, his head high and his lips pursed and so dramatically that Y/N had to crack a smile. For a moment, she mistook him for a humorous person, one that she could imagine herself laughing beside her whole damn life and that thought alone made her heart erratic and her mind chaotic.

"So, you plan on letting me come back to work a bit earlier?" She questions, figuring it's worth a shot especially when they have nothing better to talk about and the awkward silence would drive her insane otherwise. She needed the distraction and he posed as the perfect one. Just as he did that first night.

"No. Not after you went into anaphylaxis and I nearly lost you." Attempting to keep his voice calm and his head leveled, Ethan felt like his heart couldn't follow that instruction. It was more than obvious he couldn't just go back on his word. A leader is consistent and in that hospital he is meant to be a leader, not her soulmate. But his words also showed her his feelings run deeper than he shows.

"Can you honestly tell me that this is how you'd treat the others? I'm not trying to start anything but would anyone else have to do scut? Or is this about our history?" Gnawing on her bottom lip, her tongue dancing along the inside of her teeth as she waited for him to respond. She noticed his eyes turning to the screen of his car instead of the road ahead, tapping something before he turned to her entirely, his hands off the wheel and it made her eyes widen. "And can you please not get us killed?!"

"It's a Tesla. Drives itself." Ethan spoke as if that meant anything to her, as if her anxiety didn't spike at the notion of a car driving her to safety on it's own. She didn't believe that would be a safe way of traveling at all, not that Ethan seemed any better.

"And you're right. I wouldn't treat any other intern like this. In fact, if it were any other intern talking back like you did? They would be suspended." And his eyes didn't waver, looking deep into her own without blinking. Ethan meant what he said with every atom of his being and she knew it too. She knew now that she was right; he did treat her differently, she just didn't know it was for the better.

"I was angry." She quipped, swallowing her pride she saw fit to apologize even if it went against everything she wanted to do. "I'm sorry for being an ass to you...in fact, I wanted to thank you for saving my life that night."

Ethan nods, tongue swiping his bottom lip as he opens his mouth to speak. "Which night? The first one felt like I was quite heroic too." Winking, he couldn't help but notice the way she plays with her fingers, fidgeting nervously, affected by the same memories that haunt him.

"It certainly wasn't heroic but it wasn't...anything less than enjoyable either." She remarked, raising an eyebrow at his statement as if she is unbothered when in fact she is very, very bothered and horny and he could probably tell by her shy smile, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction just yet. Not until she knows where his soulmate is. Whoever it is, she needed to know if that person was in his life, to what extent and if he would be able to ignore that she has a soulmate too, wherever they may be...In a way she wondered if he was the one, but life would never serve her such luck. She's used to not getting favorable things...or men in this particular case.

"Oh, I think otherwise. I even have a certain pair of torn up lace panties and a bra to remember it by." Ethan raised his brow just the same, teasing her relentlessly, genuinely curious how red can her cheeks get. Because as much as he tried to, he couldn't forget the moans he evoked or the way her head would fall back with every dance his fingers played on her. She was and still is the muse for every dream, every fantasy and every lonely night he had to take care of himself.

"I -", Ethan leaned in, ready to hear what she has to say, thinking this might be the right time to tell her he's her forever, but Smooth Cat decided cock-blocking is acceptable and announced their arrival.

Clearing her throat, Y/N broke the eye contact, feeling the intensity of his earthly hues deep inside her heart - eyes that hooked her soul to attention only he could provide. "We should probably get in."

With a nod, Ethan opened the door and she followed his example, walking inside without turning back to look at him, determined to do this right. But for that, she had to swallow her pride once more and play the role.

Just as they enter the main hall, Y/N wrapped her arm around Ethan and his heart almost stopped with the sudden contact. She pulled him closer, glancing up at his poorly hidden shock and smiled meekly but her eyes were anything but - her eyes were hard and they were warning him to play along.

"Hi. Could you help us?" The way she asked felt so...polite? So sweet and innocent, too naively put for Ethan to ever buy the act but the sap on the other side seemed fooled.

"Of course, what can I do for you?" The guy smiles nicely, straightening his back ever so slightly to seem more confident.

"My name is Bailey Nolan and this is Grant Nolan, my husband. I, uh..I was doing a little checkup during shower and I think I felt a lump. In my breast." Shifting her voice to a smaller, fragile tone had surprised Ethan because for a moment he actually believed her too. She is all too convincing. Especially on the husband part and he can’t help but tense up when she calls him that, nor can he stop his heart from pounding uncontrollably with the notion. He imagined her calling him her soulmate and husband so many times since they first met, but to hear it felt divine. It felt better than he thought it would and he just wished she could have said it while gazing in his eyes, his arms around her as he holds her close.

Leaning in closer to the receptionist, Y/N glances left before she whispered softly: "I'm scared it might be cancer."

It didn't take long for the two to be accompanied to an examination room. With instructions to prepare for the exam, Ethan and Y/N found themselves alone for a little while.

"Expecting a free show?" Y/N narrowed her eyes at Ethan, her hands clinging to the gown left for her to change into so the examination would go quicker. She was more than willing to lose her clothes that night they met, but that was under the cloak of night and this? Being in a well-lit room with nothing to draw his attention from her body? It didn't make her as happy to strip down and flash her boobs.

"It's not like I haven't seen them before, ya know? I know exactly how they look." Ethan's cocky voice had caught her off guard just as the little step forward he made toward her. With a raised eyebrow and a vain smile Ethan tilts his head and Y/N wanted nothing more but to wipe that smirk off his face. But she couldn't. Not when his words are facts, not fiction and especially not when her body ached for his weight on top of hers.

"I kissed every inch, even the little mole nested right between -", stopping him before he finished his thought, Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes set aflame as she felt her face burning, her voice low and cold as she spoke. "I get it, but I'm asking you to stop. To not look at me now and not look at me during the ultrasound and please, for the love of God, bring me my bra back." She spoke fast and with uncertainty, mostly because she was more than lost in this new situation where she managed to not just stumble upon a one night stand but to work for him and the power balance is way off and she can’t help but feel very threatened by that.

Did she love how powerful and ambitious Ethan is? Absolutely. Did she enjoy him bossing her around? Not a chance. And she is right, the power balance in their relationship is way off, but not in the way she thinks.

She was completely unaware how whipped Ethan is for her and the way she leans a little closer to him when they talk but she doesn't do the same with anyone else. And he's absolutely crazy about the way she ties her hair in a braid so quickly while she's in the hospital, or how she seems to have fire in her soul, making her a force of nature. And yeah, she is making it hard for him not to move in and kiss her every chance he gets, but he needs to do this right. Her views on soulmates don't seem to match his and he wanted her to love him for who he is and what they've experienced together, not just a bond made by a single look as a gift from destiny. And while she changed behind the curtain, Ethan wanted her to know that too.

"I won't look. I wasn't going to. Just teasing you, darling. But the bra is mine to keep."

Necrophobia – fear of death and associated things

Before she gets a chance to retaliate, the doctor entered the room, introducing himself as Y/N laid on the table, her eyes glancing to Ethan who focused on the doctor instead of her breast as the man began a palpable examination first.

"I don't feel the lump, but I'd like to do an ultrasound too, just to be sure." Raising both eyebrows, Y/N wondered if the man had been wrongly accused by Ethan, making brief eye contact with Ethan who forgot himself and his promise for a moment in his own surprise.

"Oh." But then the doctor stopped, looking closer at the screen with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed and Y/N lifts her head.

"Oh? What do you mean by oh?" She demanded, Ethan leaning toward the screen to see better himself but even he wasn't the best in reading breast ultrasounds, that was more Grayson's specialty.

"I'm sorry to say, but I believe your worries were right."

Ringing in her ears, Y/N felt like someone hit her over the head with a rock, her mind stopping as her eyes moved to the screen the man turned for them to see.

"This", the doctor pointed at the screen and Ethan leaned in closer, his heart beating out his chest as his hand blindly searched for Y/N's to hold, wanting to give her comfort as well as seek some reassurance for himself.

"This is a solid mass and while we will need to do more tests when you're ready, my experience taught me this is often a malignancy. It's where most cancers show statistically, but you're young and I feel we caught it in time. We can set up an appointment for confirmation and more imaging, but I'm confident we will win this."

And the doctor spoke, explaining things Y/N could barely hear, feeling like she's under the water, dragged back into hell she barely escaped.

Not even realizing it, she found herself back in Ethan's Smooth Cat, her hand held tightly - no longer gingerly touched, but strongly feeling Ethan's presence. She was so thankful for that. So, so thankful.

With a growing lump inside her throat, Y/N couldn't speak, panic spreading through her as she felt Ethan's other hand touch her cheek, his thumb on her chin, tilting her head toward him.

"I called Grayson and he will meet us in an examination room at the breast unit as soon as we arrive. Remember we can't take anything he says as factual before we check. Okay? You're okay, darling. It's going to be okay." And while he tried to put up a brave front, she felt the tremors in his hands and she heard him swallow tears.

Nodding, she let out a heavy sigh of relief, his words reminding her why they were at the clinic and although she saw the lump on her ultrasound clearly, she prayed she wasn't that unlucky to get cancer. Again.

Rushing to the breast unit, Grayson is already at the door, waving the two inside. Upon entering, Ethan is basically helping Y/N rip her shirt and bra off, her breasts no longer off limits as both of them are out of their minds with worry.

"Wow, Ethan, stay the fuck outside!" Grayson shouted, throwing a sheet over an exposed Y/N, horrified by his brother and his disregard for her comfort and needs.

"We're way past that!" Ethan and Y/N scream in unison as she tosses the sheet off. Breathing uneven, her cheat rising with every shallow breath she takes, Y/N turned to Ethan who was ready to scream but stayed a few feet away. But then she outstretched her arm, her hand open with the palm turned up, her fingers wiggling to invite him closer.

Slightly reluctant, Ethan took her hand in his, fingers intertwining as he rests his elbows on the gurney, his eyes looking into hers only to find fear and unshed tears that disarmed him faster than he believed possible. It's not a secret she's been ruling his heart and mind since they met...since before that, but he never realized how willing he'd be to fall victim to her, to be her captive, to stand in the eye of the storm and admire it even when it threatens to destroy him.

Two hearts beating as one, their eyes speaking volumes about what they can't say just yet, it felt like the world faded and no one but them remained.

But the magic had been broken once Y/N felt the coldness of the gel on her breast, her hand tightened around his and her eyes closed shut. She couldn't handle seeing it again: her dreams all die and her journey to return to start - alone again, rotting in a clinic with nothing to hope for. She found medicine the first time, her graduation and desire to travel the world the second time, but third time? What will she have to look forward to? Eminent death and impending doom of finding a soulmate she never even knew about? Or Ethan?

But he has his soulmate, she reminds herself. He probably has someone waiting for him to come home, a beautiful woman, maybe a couple of kids? Who knows? He wouldn't be her saving grace this time around.

"Good news. The guy's a fraud. This ultrasound is clear. There's nothing malignant here." Grayson's smile is quick to spread, to lighten the somber atmosphere and while he probably should have stopped there, it wouldn't really be Grayson if he did, especially when Ethan and Y/N remained silent, processing the news a bit too long for Grayson's liking.

"Yeah, in fact, this is beautiful breast. It's truly phenomenal, like exquisite -", and that's when Ethan and Y/N finally tuned in, the looks on their faces saying just how far he went. Ethan covered her breasts so fast, pulling his body halfway over hers to protect her from view, his glare burning holes into his brother who raised his arms in mock surrender, defending his honor and quite frankly his life.

"I was just going to say it's like a perfect anatomy, nothing sexual."

"Bro, just go. Leave while you're still ahead." Ethan practically growled through gritted teeth and Grayson didn't plan on sticking around for those teeth to grab a hold of his throat. Because Ethan reminded him of a lion, king of the jungle and he looked ready to kill to protect his lioness.

Selenophile – a person who loves the moon

Scratching the back of his head, Ethan stepped away, releasing her hand reluctantly with a sigh. He wanted to keep this moment going, to have her so close and while he hated himself for it, he liked being needed that day. Every look she gave him, every touch no matter how small, it made him feel wanted like never before and for the first time in forever he just wanted to stay in the moment with her.

"Are you okay?" Ethan's voice is rough, his throat scratchy and his heart slowly calming down. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze, allowing her to sit up and get dressed without having her yell at him for peeping.

"I...I guess. What are we going to do about this guy?" She changed the topic deliberately, scared she might say too much because this fright had brought her back to all those times she was stuck in the hospital, alone and terrified of what might become of her. It reminded her of the friends she saw die and of the days she thought she would too.

"Grayson? He didn't mean anything by that, he just word vomits whenever he's nervous and it got fairly awkward really fast." Ethan chuckled, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth, dragging them across the soft flesh before releasing it a shade darker.

"No. Not Grayson. I mean that quack of a doctor who told me I have cancer!" She raised her voice inadvertently, hoping Ethan wouldn't notice the raw emotion behind it nor the loss of common sense that washed over her.

"I have a solid amount of paperwork proving his scams. I just wanted to know for sure today. Grayson is already dealing with it. As you can tell, my brother is a boobie lover and he won't let this man get away for all the boob owners that were tricked into this." Ethan watched her back move with her shallow breaths, her inability to turn around and look him in the eye raising his anxiety levels with each passing second.

"You don't fuck with people like that. You just don't." She mutters quietly, her voice just above a whisper and Ethan can feel his heart break and he doesn't even know why.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Y/N stood up, meek and shaken and so clearly in need of distance because if she stays even just for a minute, Ethan will know one of the worst things she had to endure and she couldn't do that. She couldn't let him in. Not when he can't stay. So she did what she does best. She bolted out the room, ignoring Ethan's pleas for her to stop and talk to him.

She went to where she was the first time she met Ethan. She went to where her life was supposed to start and it did...In a way, that day was the best day of her life - she was free of the curse her body was under and she met Ethan.

So yes, she ended up in the Oncology ward, gowning up before entering the room where comatose patients struggled to survive. As weird as it is, it had always been her favorite and least favorite place to hide from the world, a place she could find peace and serenity but also reconcile her life might end in one of those rooms as well, so she always sat there and just reminded herself to breathe as long as she could, as fiercely as she could.

She sat by one of the patients, looking sadly down at their broken, beaten bodies and how it betrayed them in the worst possible way. As usual, most patients are older or have their grey hair as proof they found their soulmate, but then again, she saw two kids there too.

She was once a kid on these ventilators too. Her friends were on them too. Not all of them made it out.

Comas aren't romantic at all like in the movies, she knew it better than anyone. The person in that bed isn't flawlessly combed nor do they have make up to cover their flaws. They aren't comfortable nor is their spirit waiting by the bed as their loved ones come and go, confessing how much they love the unlucky bastard for years to come. No...coma is what takes the basic human pride and decency. It strips you of all that makes you human. Some survive and recover, going home with amnesia for the time they spent in their state, some don't survive it at all...but there is a third option for those who survive, but they aren't exactly alive. For them, coma means tubes being stuck into their nose for feeding, into their mouth for breathing, into their urethra for peeing and a diaper for shitting. It means eyes covered with gauze to help keep their eyes moist, their throat cut open to move the breathing tube if that state continues; wires, needles, medical students practicing on them because they aren't supposed to feel the pain. It means pressure ulcers that turn into huge gaping wounds because the nurses are understaffed, overworked and underpaid and can't possibly move every patient in time to prevent complications. And the worst part is that the longer they are comatose, less people come to see them. They're alone, abandoned in a room without any chance of recovery, robbed of their right of moving on, truly being liberated. They would welcome death doctors are forced to keep away.

And she had witnessed it happen far too often. She had seen many comatose patients in her time during her stays in the hospital because of her cancer. Some of them she'd visit at night because she felt bad for them, others were her cancer buddies who were losing the battle. Either way, there wasn't anything to romanticize. Coma isn't a pretty state, it's her worst nightmare.

"You're not okay."

Startled, Y/N looks back at the door, aware who it is before she sees the person the voice belongs to. And there he is, the man she wants to know more than anything but can't allow herself to care. If they were meant to be, if he is her soulmate, he'd tell her by now. Right?

"You're always running after me." She smiles weakly, the sadness in her eyes tearing into Ethan who, even now, saw her as the most beautiful creature to walk the Earth. In his hundred plus years, Ethan never saw a human as flawlessly beautiful as her.

"Someone's got to." With a slight shrug, Ethan sat on a chair beside her, his eyes fixed on her with a softness behind his hazel hues she rarely saw in anyone. He cares. She could see that now and no amount of fear that evoked would make her walk away. She wanted to stay. She wanted him to look at her as softly as he does now for the rest of her life.

Y/N no longer cared about whoever her soulmate is because she couldn't imagine caring about someone as much as she does for Grant, not ever.

"When I was nine I was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer with metastasis in surrounding lymph nodes. After surgery and chemotherapy they said I'd be fine. They said it would be like nothing ever happened. But it wasn't fine." Swallowing a growing lump in her throat, Y/N glanced at Ethan who looked distressed by her story, like his heart had fallen through the cracks and shattered on the ground. But it was too late and she could tell he was staring at her throat for signs of surgical scarring and she felt self-conscious just like she did when they first cut her open.

"I learned to hide the scar with either scarfs or make up. And I thought I could move on and be happy but I was fifteen when I was rushed into the emergency room because I collapsed in school. Turns out the metastasis were in my lungs and while they were unsure if it was truly related to the first cancer diagnosis or if it was a new sort, one thing was sure...I needed more chemotherapy...more pain, more hospitals, more lonely days and nights and I had no one. My parents were always too involved with each other and their jobs than me. I was alone. And scared. Studying medicine saved me." She sighed, looking over the patients.

"The chemotherapy ruined my bone marrow, a little something I found out in my last year of med school after which I had to wait almost a year while I got a transplant and my immune system normalized. It was the only good thing my dad ever did for me." She shrugged, daring to look back at Ethan who looked so frustrated with what she went through, horrified by the thought of her being alone all those years when the worst has happened to her. And he hated he wasn't there for her.

"The night we met? At the bar? I was here for a final checkup because my doctor moved. I got the all clear and I was depressed I had no one to celebrate the official news of my remission and my life getting back on track." She admitted sheepishly.

"But as great as it was, we can't go back to that. You are my boss and I'm your intern and while it's going to be hard, we have to let it go. So, can I please just get back to work?"

Shaking his head, Ethan chuckled in disbelief.

"You're with Grayson next week and every free moment you have you will deal with my paperwork. That's all I can give you. But you can't seriously expect me to forget that night. Or any of it since." His demeanor changed and the softest he had about him had disappeared.

"I appreciate you telling me all this and I wish I could have been there for you, I do! But I am here now and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon. I care for you. But you drive me so mad sometimes." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ethan tried to calm down and actually be supportive because it was hard for her to open up to him like she did and he wanted to be understanding but every move forward ends up being two steps back with her and Ethan was stressed and tired and he needed her to realize she was stuck with him.

“You’re like a book! A big, strange book I barely understand.” He was slowly losing patience, she could tell. And a part of her hoped he’d let her go and give up. A part of her prayed for it to happen. But another part, one hidden deep inside, that part wanted Ethan more than the oxygen she needed to breathe. He was her oxygen, the air her soul needed. And he wasn't letting up, despite it all.

“Learn me slowly then. Please? Just be patient with my pages.”

And in that moment, they shared a silent agreement. In her darkness, he saw her light shine through. He is a selenophile and she his moon.

In that moment, Ethan saw fit to lean closer, his eyes glancing at her supple lips before focusing on her eyes again. He wanted to make sure she wanted it to happen as much as he did, even if it was completely inappropriate from the place it was happening down to their work relationship. It was all kinds of wrong, yet it felt right. It felt so, so right.

She didn't move away, she didn't make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover's touch for when Ethan's lips brushed hers, nothing mattered anymore.

Just before letting go and surrendering himself to this gentle surprise, Ethan looked at his soulmate with a new hope in mind and a promise he would never let her demons drown her.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Tags: @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @heyits-claire​ @dolandolll​ @godlydolans​ @dolanstwintuesday​ @ethanhes​ @iwastornsincethestart @graydolan12​ @fxkthatdairy​ @zeusgrayson​ @libradolan​ @justordinaryjen​ @pineappledolan​ @graysavant​ @voguekristens @imayoutubere @livexdolan​  @shadowsndaisies​ @maybgrayson​

[intothestarkerverse]

Paper Hearts

The Starker-Office AU the world needs.

Tony Stark is a paper salesman who hates his job but is secretly in love with the beautiful receptionist. A glimpse into their unorthodox courtship and happily ever after.

Tony Stark hated his job.

Selling paper was one of the most boring professions he could think of, and it had a very obvious expiration date that drew ever closer the more digitized the world became.  At best, he thought, he had another few years before he had to hit the unemployment line and look for another job he despised.  Nothing left to do but collect his paychecks until then, really.

His boss was an idiot.  

Scott Lang was no where near as funny as he thought he was.  His jokes caused Tony actual, physical pain.  The way the guy was a lapdog for Hope from corporate, that was even worse.  Didn’t help that for some reason Scott thought he and Tony were best friends.  The indignities he put up with for this job were not worth the pay check he took home.  Not.  At.  All.

The guy across from his desk was a killjoy.  You’d think Steve Rogers had some amazingly important job with how dedicated he was to it.  First one to arrive.  Last one to leave.  He was a puny little, sanctimonious nerd that Tony loved to play practical jokes on…which was really only one of two things that made the job bearable.  The second?  The second was Peter.

Peter fucking Parker.  

The receptionist.  

Light of his life.  

His reason for waking up in the morning.

The only damn reason he hadn’t left this fucking job in pursuit of something that didn’t make him contemplate using his letter opener to carve a giant hole into the middle of his chest.

Peter was young and beautiful and sweet and he sat directly in Tony’s line of view.  He caught himself staring at the kid way more often than he should.  He would day dream about running his fingers through those fluffy chestnut curls, tugging on the strands in the throes of passion.  He pictured what Peter’s lips would look like wrapped around more than just the straw of his water bottle.  He committed every centimeter of Peter’s face to his memory, knew every piece of clothing in the kid’s wardrobe…enough that he recognized when Peter had treated himself to a new sweater or pair of skinny jeans.  Tony stared because it was all he was allowed to do, and it was the only thing that got him through the day.  Peter caught him, too, but either the kid didn’t realize that Tony was head over heels in love with him…or he didn’t care.  

Tony really hoped it was the former, but it didn’t matter really because Peter had a fiance, Quentin Beck, some handsome asshole from the warehouse who had been promising Peter a ‘happily ever after’ that the kid had yet to realize was really a ‘never gonna happen’.  Quentin wasn’t ready to grow up, settle down, be a fucking man, and Tony had caught him flirting with people who weren’t Peter enough times to know he was a piece of shit.  Quentin Beck didn’t know what he had, but Tony did.  He hated that fucking guy, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

Someday.  Someday, Tony was going to sweep Peter off his feet, steal him away from the asshat and show the kid what a happily ever after should look like.

Someday.

If he ever worked up the nerve.

Until then…

***

Tony leaned against the reception desk, drumming his fingers on the Formica counter and waiting for Peter to finish his call.  Peter glanced up at him through a curtain of eyelashes, biting back a grin and holding a finger to his lips as he quickly scrawled a message on a notepad for Scott.

“Mhm, yeah, no, I’ll totally have him call you back…Yeah…Soon, for sure…Uh huh…Yep, I have here that it’s important so he’ll definitely get back to you…Yep…Cool, okay.  Bye.”  He placed the phone back in it’s cradle carefully and turned his attention to Tony, resting his head in one hand and blushing intensely under the other man’s gaze.  “That was corporate.  You could have gotten me into trouble.”

“I’d never get you into trouble, Pete.  I’d sooner die.”

“This job’s not worth dying over, Mr. Stark.”

“You might be…”

Peter choked out an embarrassed giggle.  “Stop it!  You’re the worst.  Did you just come over here to tease me or did you need help with the copier again?  For someone with half a degree in computers, you really suck with copiers, you know that?”

Tony shrugged, so what if that was one of his many excuses to spend a little time with Peter during the day.  He could hardly be faulted for that.  “Got you a present.  Wanted to make sure you got to enjoy it properly.”

“Oh yeah, what did you get me?”  Peter looked more than a little skeptical, and in all honesty, he probably had a right to be.

“Wait until Rogers gets back from his coffee break and then enjoy the show, Kid.”

“Oh my god, what did you do?”

Tony chuckled, stealing a piece of candy from the bowl Peter filled every week.  “I may have hacked his computer last night…sent him a very official looking email from the US Army inquiring about a very special kind of paper needed for a top secret mission and included a referral from one of his best clients.”

“You didn’t!”

“He’s always acting like his job is a matter of life and death, let’s give the geek a thrill, huh?”

“Mr. Stark, that’s so mean…”

“I could abort the mission if you really think…”

“I mean it would be a shame to waste all that hard work…”

***

“No.”

“Seriously, Steve, I haven’t even gotten to ask…”

“I know, but whatever it is you want, Tony, it can’t be good.  So, no.  My answer is no.”

Tony frowned, hanging his head in frustration for several seconds.  “I know you got Peter in the office Secret Santa thing…”

“How do you know that?  Did you just conveniently skip over the ‘secret’ part?”

Tony was trying really hard to be nice here.  Steve wasn’t making it easy.  “I asked everyone else.  Paid them.  Did them favors.  Tracked down the lucky bastard who was gifting Peter…and Fate hates me, so here we are.  Look, Rogers, I know we’re not friends…”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine.  Mine.  It’s clearly mine.  I accept the blame.  I do.  It’s just…I have something planned for Pete and I need to be his Secret Santa.  I will do literally anything.  Name your price.”

“I can’t be bought, Tony.  Peter has a fiance, or did you forget that?  Whatever you want from him, it can’t be good.”

Tony groaned, hitting his forehead against the top of his desk.  “I know Peter has a fiance, Rogers.  Believe me, no one is more aware of Quentin’s existence than I am.  The guy’s a jerk…a bigger jerk than me, and that’s really saying something.  You know it’s true.  He’s a piece of shit and Peter deserves better.  The guy is going to give him some generic piece of crap for Christmas, no thought at all.  You know it.  Peter’s a good kid.  He deserves…he deserves a lot more than that shithole.  Let me give him something nice.  I’m not going to break up his relationship.  I’m not going to lead him down the path of temptation.  I just want to give him something nice and make him smile without him feeling like he needs to do something for me, okay?  Rogers…I’m begging you.”

Steve stared at him for several long minutes before he sighed and nodded.  “Fine.  Yeah.  Okay.”

“Bless you, Steve Rogers.  Consider this our armistice.  War over.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

***

Tony had never wanted to hug anyone as badly as he wanted to hug Peter in that moment.

The kid looked defeated.

He was seated at a little card table towards the back of the comic book shop with several stacks of his own self-published comic in little piles all around him.  

No one was stopping to look at them.  To talk to him.  To acknowledge his existence at all.

His eyes were glassy.  The kid was literally minutes away from crying and he just couldn’t let that happen.

“Just your luck that you’d have your debut on a rainy day, Parker.”

Peter jumped, scrubbing a hand over his cheeks and putting on a brave face as he looked up at Tony with a paradoxical mixture of relief and fear.  “Tony!  You…you came.”

“Course I came.  Wouldn’t miss this for the world.  But seriously, you know rainy days are terrible for business, right?  It’s a proven fact.  Why…I’ve never seen so few people in here before.  Gotta be the weather.”

“Yeah…no, yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”  Peter looked like he didn’t quite believe Tony, but he was also apparently eager for an excuse to explain his lackluster turn out.  Had anyone else from the office even come?  Ass holes.  All of them.  And where the fuck was Quentin?

“So, let’s see…”  Tony reached out for one of the books, carefully flipping through the pages and perusing the content with a little humming noise.  “Hey, now, do you take inspiration from people you know?”

Peter was blushing.  “Maybe…”

“No maybe about it, Peter, you cannot tell me this handsome bastard isn’t based off me.”  He flipped the book around, tapping at an image of a roguishly handsome superhero in crimson and gold armor.  “You know I’m a raging narcissist, right?  I was going to buy a book anyway, but now I have to buy the whole series cause I’m one of the stars.  You in here, too?”

Peter nodded slowly, his blush darkening.  “Yeah…but I won’t tell you who.  You’ll have to figure that out…”

“I do love a challenge.”  Tony closed the book and reached out to add one from every pile to the one in his hands.  “So, how much?”

“Um…they’re ten a piece but…”

“But obviously that’s much too low so I’ll give you a hundred for the set of five.”

“Tony, no…”

“Fine.  A hundred and fifty it is.  You’re a tough negotiator, Pete.”

“Tony!”  The smile on Peter’s face was worth every fucking penny.  And who needed to eat, anyway?

***

“Mr. Stark!  You promised that the goatee was not because of my comics.”

Peter was standing at his desk with both hands over his mouth.  His face was as brilliantly red as the home made Halloween costume Tony had donned for work that day…the costume he had based entirely off of Peter’s comic and the character he just knew was based on him.  Had to be.  And dammit, if he was right…if he was right, than Peter had even made himself Tony’s fucking love interest…and wasn’t that just the most interesting thing he’d ever read in his whole damn life?

“So, I lied.  It’s not my fault. You’re such a damn good artist that I took one look at my comic book self with that awesome facial hair and said, ‘Fuck, Tony, why did you never realize that you’d be even more devastatingly attractive if you just had an impeccably groomed goatee?’  The world has you to thank for it, Pete, and I’m definitely keeping it because it’s been a hit.”

Peter’s hands dropped from his face to his sides.  He was chewing on his bottom lip, looking pensive.  “Who…I didn’t know you were dating anybody Mr. Stark.  I’m glad…they like it.  I guess…”

Tony didn’t bother to correct him.  Not yet.  A little jealousy might do the kid some good, let him know how much Tony wanted to choke the fucking life out of Quentin every time that piece of shit showed his face.

***

Peter was wearing a new soft blue sweater over a button down shirt and Tony was trying very hard not to swoon over how fucking adorable he looked.  He was playing with his gum, winding it around his finger before popping it into his mouth to begin again.  He had his phone concealed in his lap so no one could see him playing on social media while he was supposed to be working.  That was probably why he didn’t hear Tony approach until the man was standing directly in front of him, leaning against the reception desk and looking at Peter with what Tony recognized was something very close to the heart-eye emoji.  God, this kid.  

He really couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to make a move.

Be brave.

Be bold.

Be the fucking hero in that kid’s comic.

“What are you doing tonight, Pete?”

Peter jumped a little, looking up at Tony with a little flush of surprise.  “Tonight?  I don’t know.  Quentin’s got poker at Drax’s, so probably just going to lay in bed and catch up on Netflix.  Why?”

Tony smirked, dropping something on the desk in front of him.

“Oh my god, how did you get this?  It’s not even supposed to be released for another two weeks…”  Peter’s excitement was quelled by the sudden realization, “Is this a bootleg?”

Tony nodded.  He was never going to admit to how much he’d spent for a bootleg copy of something he cared absolutely nothing about because in the end…it was going to be completely worth it.  “Come over to my place tonight.  We can break the law together.”

“You think if the FBI raids your place while we’re in the middle of it that we could at least be cellmates, Mr. Stark?”

“Don’t worry, Pete, I’ll protect you in the prison yard.  No one would dare put a hand on you.”

“I’ve always thought you’d make a great prison husband.”  The witty banter ground to a halt with Peter’s last quip, his light brown eyes flaring wide.  His mouth had runaway without his better judgment, but Tony wasn’t quite ready to let it go yet.

“Oh, I’d make a great husband, prison or not.”  Tony held Peter’s gaze for a second longer than was probably comfortable for both of them, the kid’s face was red as a cherry tomato when they were interrupted by the sound of an exasperated sigh from behind them.

“Tony…could you just grow up already?  Some of us are actually trying to work…”

Peter giggled into his hand, leaning to the side to look around Tony at Steve Rogers’ desk.  “I thought you and Mr. Rogers had finally ended the Civil War, what did you do this time?”  He was careful to keep his tone soft enough that it didn’t carry.

“Hm?”  Tony was still distracted by thoughts of Peter as his prison wife, but managed to pull himself out of it to look back over his shoulder and shrug.  “I super glued everything to his desk last night.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Peter was under his desk now, hugging his sides and laughing himself breathless.  

***

It was far from the first time he and Peter had spent time together outside of work.  They were friendly, in fact.  Quentin didn’t share any of Peter’s interests, and that left plenty of things for Tony to exploit.  Movies Quentin wouldn’t be caught dead seeing.  Video game releases.  Comic conventions.  Hell, Tony had even gone to a few games of D&D with Peter because he would take literally any excuse to spend time with that kid.

Now, they were cuddled up on Tony’s couch in his apartment with enough snack food to weather the apocalypse and a bootleg that Peter was dying to see.  Though, for something Peter was dying to see, he didn’t seem as enthusiastic about watching it as he had earlier that day.

“Pete?  You okay?  Something happen after work?”  He’d been fine when they’d said their goodbyes that day.

Peter ran a hand through his curls and let out a long, shaky breath.  “I think Quentin might be cheating on me.  I don’t have proof but…Drax didn’t know anything about a poker game tonight and it’s just, it’s little things, you know?  I found this little church I really liked for the wedding and I mentioned it to him, that we could maybe set a date…but he brushed me off.  MJ…you know from customer service?  She says I’m an idiot, that he’s never going to marry me and now I’m afraid she’s right…do think she’s right, Tony?”

Tony reached out, drawing the younger man close and inhaling the scent of his shampoo as he tucked Peter against his chest.  “You’re not an idiot, Peter.  You’re way better than that piece of shit in the warehouse deserves.  You’re beautiful and smart and funny and talented, and if you were mine…we’d have fucking eloped the second you said you’d marry me.”

Peter pulled back with a watery smile, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.  They increased the limit on my credit card last month.  Enough for two tickets to Vegas, a week long stay in a crappy casino and a quickie wedding chapel.  I’d lock that shit down before you had a second to realize that you could do better than me, too.”

“Better than you?”  Peter sounded as if that idea was more insane than eloping to Vegas minutes after a marriage proposal.  “Tony, there isn’t anyone better than you.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be with that piece of shit, Quentin Beck.”

Now, Peter just looked confused.  “In what universe did I ever have a choice between you and Quentin?”

“This one.”

Peter’s head slowly canted to one side, brow furrowing and eyes narrowing.  “No…”

“Oh yes, Pete.”  Never in his wildest dreams had ever thought that Peter thought Tony was out of his league.  Was the kid blind?  Did he not own a mirror?  Did he not know how brilliant and funny and talented…  “Oh yes..”  Those last two words were repeated a hair’s breadth from Peter’s lips as Tony leaned forward to bridge the distance between them.

It was everything Tony had ever thought it would be and so much more.  Peter’s lips were soft, his whimpers were music to Tony’s ears.  Tony let himself bury his fingers in those chestnut curls and inhale the scent of him, revel in the taste of him, live in that moment as if it was the only one he was ever going to get.

The kiss went on until neither one of them could breath, until they were forced to pull back with heaving chests and swollen lips.  Peter stared at Tony for several seconds before he threw off the blanket and walked out of the room.

What.

What the fuck.

Tony was dumbfounded.  Was Peter not into it?  Had he just been shot down?  Was Peter not even going to talk to him…

No.

No.

Peter was back.

With his laptop?

Tony frowned, watching as Peter dropped the computer in his lap followed by something small and golden.  Glancing up, Tony caught sight of Peter’s now empty ring finger.

“Put your money where your mouth is, Stark.”

Tony stared. “What…”

“Two tickets.  Vegas.  ASAP.”

“Wait…”  He couldn’t be serious.

“No, you said you wouldn’t make me wait.  I already Snapped Quentin.  We’re broken up.  I’m single…but I don’t want to be.  So buy me those tickets to Vegas and a ring…when we get there.”

Tony slowly opened the laptop, stealing glances at Peter ever few seconds as he booted it and pulled up a travel site.  “You’re not…this isn’t a joke, right?”

“Not a joke.  You’re not the only one who’s been pining, Tony Stark.  Why do you think Quentin hated you so much?  He knew I was super into you…hell, Tony, I made you my lover in my comics…You’ve been my unattainable crush since I started my job.  You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Most supportive.  We have fun together.  We have a lot in common.  We just…”

“Yeah.”  Tony was smiling now, not even second guessing himself as he typed in his credit card numbers.  “I don’t know if we can get a week off work…”

“Four day weekend is good enough for now.  I’ll call Mr. Lang and let him know we won’t be in.  I’ll have to tell him why…”

“God help us.”

***

Four days later when Tony and Peter returned to work in the same car, they arrived to find an impromptu wedding shower waiting for them.  Quentin had quit.  Left all of Peter’s stuff in the warehouse in a pile in the middle of one of the docking bays. But whatever, the less they had to see of that prick the better.  Scott seemed happier about their elopement than they were, and he’d gone to great lengths to print up t-shirts proclaiming that everyone in the office ‘shipped Starker’.  Even Rogers was wearing one.

Tony pretended to hate it.

Really he fucking loved it.  

Maybe his job wasn’t the absolute worst after all…

[raendown]

Pairing: KakashiShisuiSakura Word count: 1810 Soulmate au: The one where everyone has a tattoo that shifts under your skin to reach towards your soulmate

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 209

Shisui was pretty sure his ink was just confused. He’d never heard of that being possible but there were a lot of people who had called him impossible in varying tones throughout the years so he wouldn’t put it past himself to have the first indecisive soul ink in the world. There were times when he thought that he knew who his soulmate was and of the two options he had narrowed it down to he could admit that he would be equally excited to be matched with either of them and yet…

And yet his ink didn’t seem to want to settle on either person. 

In Kakashi’s presence he could feel exasperation just as often as fondness, never a dull moment. As a child he’d been enamored with rules almost to the point that they became his entire personality but in the years since then he had blossomed in to an entirely different person, now a grown man prone to tardiness and napping in trees. His laid back attitude was something Shisui had appreciated on more than one occasion when he needed someone to remind him that life was more than just endless missions. Life could also be lazy afternoons reading smutty trash in public parks. 

With Sakura he always felt just as happy, though. Her determination and sense of justice warmed his heart every time he was lucky enough to watch her either on the battlefield or in the hospital. A woman of many talents, she had honed them all through hard work and a sense of dedication that Shisui couldn’t help but admire. If Kakashi was a lazy Sunday afternoon then Sakura was a fire determined to burn as brightly as possible. 

Sometimes he wondered if the ink in his skin was leaving the choice up to him but how was he meant to choose between two such perfect options? It was hard to imagine ever being completely happy when a part of him would always be yearning for someone else no matter how much he loved the person he ended up with. Because he did love them, both of them, and the deeper his feelings grew the more he began to think that he almost didn’t want to know after all which of them was his true soulmate. Knowing somehow felt worse. To definitively settle on one would be to admit that he would never have the other. In a way he was almost grateful at times that his ink could not decide, saving him the heartbreak of letting go. 

But not on days like today. Times like now, as he sat panting at the edge of training field number seventeen and watched the two pieces of his heart spar against each other, all Shisui felt was a deep aching want. Either or both, he wasn’t feeling picky. In that moment as he watched the flex of Sakura’s muscles and the grace of Kakashi’s supine dodge he wanted nothing more than a pair of arms around him and an end to the confusion. 

“Ah ah,” Kakashi taunted as he skipped away from another punch that would have taken his head off if it connected. “Someone’s form is a little sloppy today, ne?” 

“Yeah I noticed you haven’t been able to land any hits yet,” Sakura shot back.

“I thought I’d let you tire yourself out so poor Shisui could have an easy win. Look at him over there, all red in the face and tired out after just one round.” Kakashi turned to aim a quick wink over towards the edge of the field and both of them laughed when Shisui flailed. 

“O-oi!” he called, hurrying to defend himself. “I just didn’t sleep well last night!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he winced. What a weak defense. He wasn’t surprised to see both of his friends pause in their mock battle to snicker at him. A moment later he also wasn’t surprised to see Kakashi take advantage of the momentary distraction to move as fast as his lightning nature, stepping in close to press a kunai against the soft skin over Sakura’s jugular vein. The two of them traded a heated look that made Shisui groan softly to himself. Why did they both have to be so attractive?

“Superb. Well done. Excellent. You won by cheating!” Sakura plastered a brilliant smile across her face that could not have been any more sarcastic if she tried, though it was easy to see the genuine fondness hiding underneath. 

“Don’t be sassy just because you lost,” Kakashi admonished her with the same fondness in his mock lecturing tone. 

The two of them traded false bickering and insults as they separated, weapons sliding back in to holsters and dust beaten off of clothing before they turned to make their way across the field. By the time they got close to where Shisui was resting against a tree they still hadn’t come to a solid agreement on whether Kakashi had actually won that round. 

“Why don’t we let Shisui decide?” Sakura lifted one eyebrow challengingly. “I’m sure he’ll make the right choice.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Think you can pick the best between us, Shisui? The clear winner? The right choice?” Turning on the charm as only he could, Kakashi turned to send him another wink that would make anyone’s heart beat out of control. 

“I don’t, uh, well…”

Rubbing at the back of his head, Shisui tugged on several messy curls and tried to think of some way to explain that he was the last person qualified to make a choice between them without admitting why. Between the two of them he was certain one was the person meant to bond to him for a lifetime and yet-

And yet, come to think of it, if that was true then at least one of them should have ink of their own reaching back. Ink that should not have been as confused as his. Strange to think that either of these paragons of confidence would still hesitate to approach him after all this time. Without the confusion of ink that leapt back and forth in a way it wasn’t supposed to it should have been easy for them to conclude that he was their soulmate. 

Before he could think to stop himself, Shisui let his eyes drop to the hands hanging loose at their sides. From his spot huddled on the ground they were both of a height with his face. Although both of them wore gloves they were fingerless affairs that afforded Shisui the perfect view of pale skin patterned with ink in undefined shapes. Both of them. With a dry swallow he tried not to let the strange disappointment show on his face as he realized that even finally allowing himself to look hadn’t changed a thing; he still had no better clue as to which one of them belonged to him. Even worse, now there were doubts growing in his mind that it was either of them. Surely if one was his soulmate they would have noticed and approached him about it - or so he assumed. 

There was, after all, always the chance they might not approve of the match. 

“Can’t we just call it a draw?” he asked pathetically. “I wasn’t really paying too much attention.” A complete and utter lie. There were few things in the world he paid more attention to than the two strong, gorgeous figures standing over him now. Sakura called his bluff with a bark of laughter. 

“Like hell you weren’t,” she said.

“Maa, maa, Sakura-chan don’t be so mean! Shisui can take all the time he needs to come to the right conclusion!” Kakashi hummed pleasantly and held out a hand, an offer to help him up, and for one single crazy moment Shisui almost thought he saw the ink on those fingers move. But that was silly. His was the only ink that seemed to twitch and jump about as though confused.

He had time to lift one hand and hesitate before Sakura held out one of her own as well with a confident, “Ha! Don’t try and butter him up!” 

“Would I do that?” 

“Yes.”

“I am wounded!”

“Huh, you’re about to be!” Rolling her eyes, Sakura blew a lock of hair away from her sweaty face and wriggled her outstretched fingers. “Come on, I’ll help you up Shisui. Because some of us won’t try and butter you up just to convince you to declare them the winner of a silly spar!”

Kakashi gasped dramatically. “Don’t listen to her, Shisui! It’s all lies!”

Almost as if in slow motion he watched the both of them reach out for him at the same time, muscles frozen, his own hand suspended in the air where he was powerless to move it. He watched their fingers close around his. Then with a thundering in his heart he watched as all three of their inks flowed together and settled in to stillness like three puzzle pieces united at last.

“Oh…” His soft exclamation drew his companions’ attention to where his eyes were fixated, all three of them holding very still as though not to disturb the moment. “Looks like...I don’t have to choose after all.”

Seeing it now it was hard to imagine that he could ever have believed he only had one soulmate. The phenomenon was rare but it was not unheard of; why had he never considered this before? Looking back over the years, he realized that in all the time they had spent together the three of them must have never been touching at the same time. They had, of course, thrown their arms over each other in camaraderie or support but not like this with all three of their hands together where their ink could meet and explode in to brilliant color. 

“Two soulmates,” he heard Sakura whisper. “I have two soulmates?”

“Well that explains a lot,” Kakashi mumbled. 

Shisui blinked, looking at both of them a little closer. Then without warning he threw his head back and laughed. “Have we really all been confused about this for all these years? And none of us said anything?”

Both of his companions traded sheepish looks and it only made him laugh all the harder. Strong fingers tightened around his own, anchors to keep him grounded through the tears of bitter mirth and the relief crashing through his veins. He didn’t have to choose. No more nights lying awake and tearing himself apart between two people who held his heart so equally. From now on they would hold his heart together as they were always meant to and Shisui, surging up from the ground to pull them both towards him for a tight embrace, could not possibly think of anything that would make him happier. 

[magioftheseas]

Nekomaru & Yasuke

Summary: Nidai Nekomaru’s FTEs in the SDR2 Protagonist Matsuda Yasuke AU. Yep. It’s about half-and-half I think.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language and references to hospitals. Because. Matsuda.

Notes: So I decided to write more FTEs just for like, the fun of it. And I felt like I should at least write them for a male character and Nidai was my pick because I’m actually pretty invested in the potential for Nidai/Matsuda. Nidai is also super underappreciated by the canon writers like it’s distressing. I’m hoping I do more justice to his character in Protag Matsun. I’ll do my best! I am pretty happy with these FTEs, at least~

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

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“It’s the start of the new DAAAAAAAY! Remember to face EVERY DAY as if it were your LAAAAST! GYAHAHAHA!!!”

A sharp knee swiftly met the back of his patella, and Nidai nearly toppled over with an oof. Chuckling lowly, he swung his arm to meet the assailant, and it was Matsuda who ducked under.

“I’m not here to fight,” Matsuda said simply. “I’m just here to tell you: stop fucking screaming every morning. It’s more than I can take.”

“Matsuda! I nearly knocked that smarmy head off your shoulders!” Nidai exclaimed with booming laughter. “I did think that kick was too weak to be Owari!”

“It was an accident. I was so driven by the impulse from your screaming that I had to. Like with smacking an alarm clock.”

Of course, I didn’t feel nearly as much animosity towards a device made to wake me up in time for work as I do towards some brick head just screaming for the hell of it.

“Gyahahaha!” Nidai rubbed his head. “Still, good reflexes, good reflexes!”

“It’s because I’m used to people taking swings.”

“Matsuda! You ought to hone those in!” With his hands on his hips, Nidai leaned down with a wide grin. “How about a little spar?”

“Absolutely not.” The answer was immediate. “If I get injured, it’ll be a hassle bandaging myself up. And I don’t want to rely on the not-nurse for shit.”

Nidai folded his arms.

“Aye, such a difficult one. Then!” That grin resumed as if it hadn’t left. “Stay up a while longer and talk with me! Going back to sleep won’t be nearly as healthy!”

Matsuda scoffed but, considering he was considerably alert now, he wasn’t in the mood for falling back asleep either. He still wanted to turn down the demand, but knowing Nidai, he’d be risking getting literally strong-armed if he did.

The stupid shit I have to do on this fucking island. The shit I thought I’d avoid by skipping grades and attending medical school off the bat.

“Fine, fine, whatever.”

It’s a real pain in the ass.

--

“Is there anything you’ve been wondering about me, Matsuda?”

“Not particularly.”

“Gyaha! Tough nut to crack! You’re a real brat, aren’t ya?”

Despite saying that, Nidai smiled fondly rather than the usual look of contempt that Matsuda was used to when hearing those words. Matsuda said nothing, even as he mulled over it. After a while, he sighed.

“As a coach, I bet you’re used to dealing with all kinds of brats, huh.”

“Oh YEAH! Countless cocky little shits, haha! Owari’s a particular case!” Nidai laughed, louder than before. “The hot-temperedness of youth! It’s to be EXPECTED!”

Mmhm. Coming from you.

Matsuda yawned.

But the older you get, the more and more knocked down you are. But you still have difficult people even then.

“Dealing with athletes as patients can be a huge-ass pain,” he found himself saying. “When they come down with a condition, the first thing they worry about is missing practice. I get it, but it’s stupid. Your head might be broken and you’re thinking of a damn game? Why don’t you worry about how your family will feel instead?”

Nidai huffed.

“Although the future’s scary, isn’t it?” Matsuda looked up towards the sky dully. “Not having it secured can be terrifying in a world that has no qualms about chewing you up and spitting you out.”

It’s a world run by predators.

Nidai snorted then, and he smacked his back hard enough that he nearly choked.

“You’re so young and you already sound like an old salaryman! Lighten up, Matsuda!” He smacked his back again and damn near knocked his fucking ass over. “But it’s a nostalgic feeling! Having one of my boys admit their anxieties! In return, allow me to do it for you!”

“No thanks, I’ve had enough of your hand on me for one day,” Matsuda snapped, smacking said hand away when it reached for his shoulder. “And it’s not like you’re special for listening to me ramble. I’m just like an old man in that regard.”

Not to mention I’m driven more by spite than passion at this point.

Matsuda paused, realizing something belatedly.

“I don’t want a guy still in high school calling me a boy. You know the only reason why we’re classmates is because we were scouted by Hope’s Peak, right?” His glare sharpened. “That’s not just any high school.”

“Pfff. You’re not the only professional here, Matsuda.” Folding his arms, Nidai looked bigger than ever. “I’ve had my fair share of mouthy brats trying to look down on me.”

He said that, but was literally looking down at Matsuda as he did. Not that it could be helped. The guy was built like a truck and even his obnoxious grin was overwhelming.

“...I suppose that’s true, isn’t it,” Matsuda ended up conceding. “You’re definitely more impressive than some of the other yahoos on this island. Well. More like most of them.”

“YOU REALLY SHOULD HAVE MORE RESPECT FOR YOUR PEERS!!!” Nidai bellowed. “That’s the FIRST STEP to teamwork!!”

Matsuda’s ears were left ringing.

“And AS the Ultimate Coach, it is my duty to lead ALL of you!” Nidai went on, booming. “Not as a LEADER, of course, but a guide! A guide to LIGHTNING VICTORY!”

“As opposed to thunderous?” Matsuda asked dully.

“ABSOLUTELY!!!” And as if to strengthen his point, Nidai’s eyes were brimming with a white-hot pulse. “Just as you should not DOUBT YOURSELF, you should NOT DOUBT ME!!!”

Right now all I hear is a drawn-out beat. As if my hearing has lost its pulse. Ah, that’s probably not good.

“I’m going back to my cottage.”

“Without even STRETCHING?! I think not! Come Matsuda, you MUST exercise at the start of EVERY DAY!”

“Ugh.”

“Less time GROANING and more time MOANING! From exertion! Or do you need IT after all?!”

“Ughhhh.”

In the end, there was no escape and he was forced to comply.

All that said, he did actually feel a little better afterwards. Perhaps. Maybe.

Blah.

--

“Matsuda! You always wear that LAB COAT! As respectable as it is, it’s inappropriate for THIS KIND OF WEATHER!!!!”

“Ah, huuuuh?”

I barely stepped out and this gorilla is already screaming at me, huh. And about my coat of all things?

“I just washed it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Matsuda snapped, unimpressed. “I don’t need a brute like you nagging me, too.”

“While you are clean now, YOU’RE STILL GOING TO SWEAT LIKE A PIG LATER!!!” Nidai boomed, stomping over to him. “Take! It! Off!!!”

Matsuda sighed. He adjusted his coat so that it slipped down both shoulders instead of just one.

“Better?”

“ALL THE WAY, MATSUDA! COME ON!!!”

Matsuda rolled his eyes and tugged his lab coat the rest of the way off. Since he wasn’t in the mood for just holding it, it threw it over his head and used it as a cover from the sun. It wasn’t terribly helpful and he still felt irritable and twitchy.

“One sleeve rolled up and shirt half-tucked,” Nidai mused, getting a better look at his mostly buttoned-up dress shirt and sloppily done tie for good measure. “You’re quite dedicated to the half-assed look, huh. That’s a unique spirit.”

“It’s more sensible than wearing a damn chain around your neck,” Matsuda pointed out, eyes narrowing sharply. “Seriously, what the hell is up with that?”

Nidai, as he tended to when he stupidly had no real answer, burst out laughing. Booming, bright, thunderous laughter that made Matsuda want to skitter back into the quiet of the night. If fucking only the hour didn’t guarantee the bitch-ass sun at its brightest on this stupid island. Every single day. Without fail.

“While you’d be quite the project, I do think I could whip you into shape,” Nidai said, cracking his knuckles with relish. “Alright! Let me get a better look at your body!”

Matsuda held up a hand.

“This much I’m willing to allow. If my boundary is pushed further, I’ll start throwing scalpels.”

Nidai cackled.

“A step at a time is still progress!”

When he took Matsuda’s hand, all Matsuda could think about was how it was enveloped in almost an instant. Nidai’s own hands were meaty and huge, more on the level of a large animal than a human. They were rough and a little sweaty, too.

I’ll have to wash my hands as thoroughly as I would prior to surgery after this.

Nidai hmphed as his thick fingers traced the knuckles, veins, and lines in his palm.

Ah, it’s almost like getting my fortune.

“There’s too much strain on your wrists!” Nidai huffed. “You should do stretches at least every day! It’s simple!” He pushes his hand back, and it hurts a twinge. Matsuda barely twitched as the position was held. “Thirty seconds. It’s small but it builds and will lessen arthritis pain significantly.” He curls Matsuda’s hand into a fist and pushes that down too. “There are other ones, of course. It’s just a small portion of your time, Matsuda!”

Matsuda nodded.

“Right, right.”

This isn’t the worst instance of my hand being held but I can’t say it’s one of my favorites.

“But you do seem to have some muscles built up in your arm! That’s GREAT!” Nidai patted his forearm. He only ghosted where the elbow met bicep. “Still, a man at your age and height should have MORE than that!!”

Matsuda rolled his eyes.

“Not a lot of doctors engage in the healthiest behavior,” he muttered. “Too busy helping everyone else.”

“HMPH!” Nidai somehow shouted that. “Not an excuse!”

“Whatever.”

“Matsuda...!” But despite obviously being on the verge of screaming again, Nidai quieted when he noticed something. “Ah.”

“Whaaaaat,” Matsuda droned. “You aren’t going to tell me I need to thicken my veins too, right?”

Nidai shook his head and grinned.

“I was just thinking that your fingers really are beautiful.”

Matsuda blinked once. Twice. Nidai dropped his hand, grin still on his face.

“And that’s the end of your morning checkup! You’re free to go, Matsuda!”

“Uh, huh.” Feeling both confused and irritable, Matsuda didn’t miss a beat. “Right, I’ll come by again later.”

Annoyingly, Nidai lit up even more.

“I’m looking FORWARD to it!!”

It’s not like I want to go back to him but...I guess it would be helpful to be able to hold a scalpel for longer. Yeah. Matsuda nodded to himself, slipping his coat back on and staring at his hand. When he felt his own pulse, thumb running over his slightly throbbing wrist, he grimaced. Ultimate Coach, huh.

--

The next time, it was actually a little bit more bearable having Nidai helping him stretch out both his wrists. Despite what the thick skull might tell a person, Nidai had the sense to know when he was being too rough and it never hurt more than necessary.

But, truth be told, Matsuda paid more attention to how Nidai openly admired his fingers.

“You got a thing about doctor hands or what?”

“Gyahaha! It’s not strange to appreciate healing hands! I have a pair myself, you know!” Nidai boomed. “But it’s a secret technique that only my teams can know.”

With that kind of volume, it won’t be for long.

“Yeah,” Matsuda elected to just agree with him. “You’ve definitely got enough skills to be a chiropractor. I bet that’s helpful for sore athletes.”

Nidai beamed, shining with pride.

“I may be USED to praise, but it’s something when someone like YOU joins in, haha! But as a doctor, you’re well aware of the effects of it, aren’t you?!”

It being chiropractic? Matsuda wondered, uninterested. He shrugged it off.

“So this is what you do, huh. You don’t just yell at idiots to get moving, you actually manipulate their body in a way that makes them more pliable.” He hummed. “Wow. That’s more devious than I would’ve expected from a meathead like you.”

“Obviously as a coach, it is my prerogative to be well aware of my athletes’ physical and emotional states,” Nidai pointed out. “I wouldn’t be worth any salt if I weren’t.”

“Good point.” Matsuda nodded in approval. “That’s what we call competency. Always a nice thing to have.”

“Health is an important factor for both of us,” Nidai remarked, pulling away. “In fact, it’s because of people like you that my job is even possible.”

They were sitting in the shade only because Matsuda had insisted on it. But Nidai was never any less bright. Matsuda stared at him, and he had to keep his spine straight. It was annoying. Better for him, but annoying.

“Y’know, I couldn’t care less if a person is able to run around and jump,” he murmured. “So long as they’re still themselves.”

Nidai snorted.

“There are people who can’t find themselves while confined to a bed. I used to be that way, actually.”

Matsuda blinked.

“It’s not a brain condition, it’s a heart condition,” Nidai went on. “And because of it, I was alone and isolated. But that wasn’t true. I was just blaming the condition. But it had...obfuscated my sight, you could say.”

Ah. That’s right, isn’t it.

“It is true: overworking myself to death is dangerously easy.” Nidai huffed. “So I had not thought to try...until I was inspired by a fellow patient with the same condition. A coach, in fact, who died before he could see his team succeed. That lit a fire in me, and just like that, everything was illuminated!”

Matsuda said nothing more, he just listened until Nidai cut himself off with a rough chortle.

“But you didn’t approach this ol’ coach to hear his story, did you, Matsuda?”

“I don’t mind,” he replied. “You actually did remind me of something important. And obvious. So when you became a coach, did you...?”

“The first thing I did was take that fellow man’s team TO VICTORY!!!” Nidai exclaimed. “FOR NOTHING ELSE WOULD SUFFICE!!!”

Matsuda snorted, but with his lips twisting, he still nodded along.

I know how short-sighted of a person I can be. While my profession may be noble, it’s still selfishly-driven. How stupid. I should know better than anyone how easy it is to lose someone, be it through a brain tumor or the physical confines weathering down the mind. There are so many ways to get crushed.

And he supposed Nidai was someone aiming to prevent that as much as possible. Or, perhaps, Nidai refused to see it. He could’ve simply been determined. Or an optimist. Or stubborn. Or an idiot. Really, he could be all of those things because that’s just how people were. A series of complex parts and systems.

It’s as beautiful as it is wretched.

“MATSUDA!!!” Nidai boomed. “You’re DAYDREAMING! If you have time to do that, you have time to RUN!!!”

“Pipe down, you fucking oaf. Just because I respect you a little doesn’t mean I’ll take kindly to your fucking banshee screaming.”

“WHAT WAS THAT??!?!”

It’s as wretched as it is maddening. For sure.

Matsuda wondered if diving into the ocean then and there would spare the trouble, but with the idea of Nidai having to break his ribs on the off-chance he actually drowned a little, he would have to find another way.

He managed.

--

“MatsuDA!!! You’re slouching again!”

“Urgh, so noisy.”

Matsuda rubs his nape, and specifically he presses hard into the section where his neck met his shoulder. Because of how he slept, there was a sharp ache. He had taken to reading when flat on his back, but it hadn’t done much.

Nidai harrumphed.

“So stubborn! Alright, strip so I can get started!”

“It’s not necessary.” Matsuda waved him off. “I’ll just take it easier. Which, unfortunately, means for me another leisure day. Gross.”

“How are you going to get ANYTHING done?!” Nidai screeched accusingly. “To just stand around so LISTLESSLY! What a waste of time!!!”

“Every single day spent on this island is time wasted,” Matsuda pointed out huffily. “We’re trapped at the whims of inconsiderate fuckheads who think this is all just a game.”

“You’re so difficult!” Nidai exclaimed. “Too difficult for your own good!”

Matsuda’s frown twitched at the familiar words. How many times will he be told them? How many times will he have to hear them? Will they ever not be a waste of breath?

“Just a few exercises are good for your body and you know it, Matsuda,” Nidai said more sternly. “While your responsibility towards others is admirable, you must also extend yourself the same level of consideration. After all, the only one living your life is you.”

Matsuda blinked once. Twice.

It’s nice to say that. Under better circumstances. Right now, it’s hard to not feel disempowered and lacking any sense of real control. Of course, I’ve always felt that way, but when I had the freedom to work, I could tolerate it at least a little. But I only have so much time.

Nidai’s hand clamped down on his head. For a second, Matsuda did fantasize about the blissful simplicity of having his skull crushed then and there, leaving behind the faulty sack of meat and bones. Right before the innate human fear of death suffocated him until he remembered to look at Nidai’s big, dopey fucking face and realize that duh, of course he wouldn’t be in any actual fucking danger.

Still, his heartbeat drums, anxious. It’s funny. So funny. So fucking stupid how little grasp logic and reason actually had.

Brains are complex and splendored. They’re also convoluted and stupid.

“You’re overthinking AGAIN, Matsuda!!” Nidai yelled, making him jump out of instinct. “You really are a difficult source, even worse than Owari! When it comes to your body, you don’t NEED to dwell so much! Just ACT!”

Nidai’s hand came down again, ruffling his hair as Nidai chortled with aggravated but still somehow affectionate amusement.

“I get yer a SMART kid but that can be DEBILITATING when it comes to the basics of self-care!”

“Who told you that, a therapist?” Matsuda bit back, shoving his hand off. Only because Nidai had allowed it, of course, going by that shit-eating grin. “And isn’t it counterproductive to force someone clearly unwilling into a regimen?”

“Gyahahaha! That’s quite the attitude! It’s true I can’t exactly FORCE you into being better! But.” Gritting his teeth, Nidai’s face morphed into something that someone might find a little terrifying. “A coach must do all he can to SWAY his athletes.”

Matsuda, who has stared death in the face several times from downing venti cups filled with expresso and energy drinks, could only ask, “Is that a fact?”

“VERY MUUUUUUCH!!!”

Screamed with a lot of force. Even trees would bend. But if Matsuda bent, he’d hurt his back.

“I’m not an athlete,” he said bluntly. “I’ve never even been active. I avoided P.E. to study. The most active I’d be was when I got dragged into fights. So you can punch me, I suppose, and I’ll be forced to try and fend you off.”

Nidai’s glare worsened but, in the end, he could only sigh, rubbing his forehead much the way most disappointed adults would.

This guy spent a lot of time isolated in a hospital...only to suddenly and immediately throw himself into a position of heavy responsibility and high expectations.

When he thought of it that way, it was almost crazy. That kind of ambition didn’t tend to pan out. And yet, here Nidai was, the Ultimate Coach.

Losing patience just like every lacking adult. But wasn’t it important for kids to learn about failure?

I disgust myself.

“I’ll do a couple of stretches,” Matsuda found himself saying. “But I hate sweating and I hate this heat. So I’m limiting any strenuous activities.”

Nidai snorted.

“One important, oft overlooked aspect of training is pacing, Matsuda.”

“Yeah, pacing,” he agreed rather mindlessly. “So let’s get stretching.”

“Just follow my MOVEMENTS!” When Nidai twisted his body with ease, Matsuda was initially left dumbstruck.

“...for such a meathead, you sure can contort your body in interesting ways.”

“GYAHAHAHA!!!”

--

“MATSUDA!!! I’d like to borrow your BRAIN!!!”

“Without even taking me to dinner first? Dismaying.”

“Haha! If you insist, we can eat together LATER!!”

“Woo.”

“But NO!” Nidai yelled, spirited as ever. “I need you as someone beyond that! An advisor! If you will!”

Matsuda blinked once and his head tilted.

“I plan on taking everyone under my wing!” Nidai went on. “To become everyone’s coach! However, since not all of you are athletes, I may need GUIDANCE on how to GUIDE!”

“Wow,” Matsuda uttered. “Okay. So...like him, huh?”

...so a couple of guys are just like this. It’s ridiculous, but at least it’s well-intentioned.

“I’m not sure why you think a guy like me is any help,” Matsuda said, shrugging. “I’m not the most social.”

“That is true,” Nidai admitted. “But you are perceptive when it comes to others, even if you don’t get along with them. Thus, I think you can be QUITE helpful. Not to mention it’s because of doctors like you that athletes can bounce back!”

Doctors. Like me.

Matsuda shook his head.

“It’s not always that simple. There are several factors, including the person injured. And even then, there’s never a guarantee.” Running his fingers through his hair, Matsuda didn’t look at Nidai. “There are doctors who work as hard as they can, and patients who fight as hard as they can, and at the end of the day, the monitor still flatlines.”

I’d like to be above that someday, but I’m not a naive brat anymore.

“That’s life, Matsuda,” Nidai replied without missing a beat. “That doesn’t make such efforts worthless. To live is to struggle. It’s why living is such a precious act in the first place.”

Matsuda blinked, brushing back his fringe and pinching it between his fingers.

“Regardless of that CHANCE, I shall give it my ALL!!” Nidai boomed, pumped now. “I will throw EVERYTHING including my HEART AND SOUL into supporting each and EVERY one of you!!”

“Your heart, huh,” Matsuda mused. “Even though you admitted before it wasn’t in the best shape.”

“It’s still BEATING, isn’t it?!”

“Yeah.” He nodded along. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”

Right now, even as I’m trapped in a game of death, my heart is pounding. It could be fear. It could be instinct. It could be defiance. Either way, I’m alive.

“Well,” he went on. “I’m a doctor, so it’s my duty to keep people alive. But I’m a neurologist, so really I only specialize in keeping everyone’s brains in working order.” A pause. “And I’ve got my work cut out for me. Some of you are so direly fucking idiotic that I could make a case for it being a condition.”

Nidai laughed loudly.

“Whatever HELPS!!”

I wonder if boundless and groundless optimism in particular is a symptom. 

“Okay! But first thing’s FIRST!!!” Nidai exclaimed, cracking his knuckles. “STRIP!!! Allow me to use my talents of IT!”

“You really want to give me a massage, huh?”

“IT’S BECAUSE YOU PUT SO MUCH ON YOUR SHOULDERS!!! YOU REALLY DO NEED TO LOOSEN UP, MATSUDAAAAA! It’s the same for any other OVERWORKED athlete!!”

Matsuda blinked, and his neck twisted in a way that evoked such pain that his entire body shuddered. Nidai hissed at the same time he did.

“Alright,” Matsuda finally, finally conceded. “But, uh, I guess we’ll have to go to my cottage. Or yours. Because I’m not a fucking weirdo who’s going to strip out in public.”

“Yours is closer,” Nidai said, nodding. “Let’s JOG there.”

“Yeah, no, I’ll leisurely stroll while rubbing my neck. It actually hurts so bad it’s hard to think, so be gentle.”

Nidai harrumphed but with a smile, he let him be.

“Once I’m finished with you, you’ll be ready to run laps, I’m sure of it.”

He doubted that, of course, but he still trusted Nidai with that vulnerability all the same. It may have been a small step to someone like Nidai, but for someone like Matsuda, it was a lot more significant. As he laid under Nidai and allowed his body to be manipulated, his head and the burdens did begin to feel a lot lighter. It was undeniably pleasant and also undeniably what he needed if he wanted the emotional strength to push forward.

While he still refused to run several laps and swim in the ocean, he did follow Nidai’s orders on more exercise and stretches. And as he did, there were many more moments of him catching whiffs of Nidai’s infectious, boundless, and groundless optimism.

I’m not so naive as to think I’ll succeed without a doubt, but obviously, I should still push forward with everything I have, even if it’s lacking. To live is to struggle, and despite everything, those efforts aren’t a complete waste even with failure. This meathead reminded me of something so simple. And so obvious. For that, I can’t help but be grateful.

For his sake, my sake, and everyone else’s sake, I’ll try and push a little harder today and every tomorrow that follows.

[knightowl725]

Healing in a Graveyard, Ch. 5

Fandom: Critical Role

A continuation of my work for Fjorclay Week 2020′s modern au prompt. Thank you to everyone reading, leaving kudos, and commenting. Every comment adds 10 years to my unending lifespan, which will be used as irresponsibly as possible. 

And yes, I’m intentionally making the cover art that chaotic. I know two things about graphic design, and one of them is that I shouldn’t be doing it.

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828932/chapters/57440155

It took more legwork than their usual meal to eat their breakfast feast outdoors. At first, they tried moving the table out. But getting the long rectangle through the angled kitchen, then the cramped entry room proved too challenging. Instead, they laid out blankets and rugs and towels to set the food on.

While Caduceus began bringing out food, Fjord explained what had happened to the rest of the Nein. If he had expected shock or teasing, or even them questioning his sanity, he was surprised yet again that morning. His friends broke out in a joyous celebration.

“Does this mean you are going to stay, Fjord?” Jester asked, and the group went silent with bated breaths.

“I, uh, I don’t know just yet,” Fjord confessed. “I need to find work, and see if Caduceus would let me stay here.”

He remembered he needed to text Calliope, or had he texted already?

“But you want to stay,” Beau said. “If that all works out, you’re going to stay? And definitely not go back to Avantika?”

He took a deep breath. “Right.”

Jester leapt to her feet, arms up as she screamed, “Thank the Traveler!”

Caleb gently pulled her back to the ground by the skirt of her dress. “I think you’re thanking the wrong god.”

“Fine, the Wildmother can have this one,” she said with a sigh.

“We can go get your things today,” Yasha offered. “Do they have any...club activities?”

Beau coughed out a “cult” in her not-subtle way.

“We usually… They usually do some, uh, worship in the afternoon. Around 3.”

“Perfect,” Nott said eagerly. “We can break in while they’re out!”

“What? No!”

“Did you ever lock that window when I came to get you?” Beau asked. When Fjord shrugged, she said, “If you left it unlocked, maybe no one noticed and we can just get in that way. Easy peasy.”

“Breaking and entering is illegal.”

“Yeah, if you get caught,” Nott retorted.

“3 o’clock you said?” Caleb asked innocently. Fjord just looked at him.

Caduceus joined them with the last of their food, and they ate beneath the blossoming tree. The falling petals got into their food and drinks, which quickly became a contest of who could catch the most petals from the air. As breakfast came to close, the Nein leapt about, making personal piles of bright petals while Caleb counted.

They took photos, both for themselves and for Caduceus to share with his family.

When Fjord made his way back to his room, Caduceus followed to take a look at his plant.

“Huh, what do you know,” he said in an impressed tone, picking up the plant and admiring it from different angles. “Not supposed to do that overnight.”

“Another blessing, I suppose?”

“Another sign, yes.” To Caduceus, they were one in the same.

Fjord went over to his bed to pick up his phone. Not cracked, which was always a relief. But there was a message.

Don’t care about resumes, just come by the gym sometime and we can talk. Any day’s good. Hours on site. Arborexemplar.com

“Everything okay?” Caduceus asked.

“Yeah, of course. Calliope got back to me about the job. Asked me to come by sometime,” Fjord said, quickly looking up the gym’s site. It was open most of the day. “I’m going to go by now, I think.”

“Good plan. Tell her I said hello,” Caduceus said, gently putting the plant back. “You’ve been taking good care of it, by the way.”

“Just doing what you said.”

He only smiled, ambling out of his room so Fjord could get his things together and leave.

~~

Calliope was… intense. She bore the same intimidating height, same symbolic earpiece - if coupled with other piercings - and same pink hair. But she was more muscled, more intense, and more, well. Fjord didn’t want to call Caduceus odd per se, but his sister was definitely not the same tier of eccentric.

“You’re Fjord?” she asked when he walked into the Arbor Exemplar.

It was about thirty minutes’ walk from the Blooming Grove, but from his poking around his map app, it was closer to campus in parts. There was even one of the smaller campus libraries close by.

The gym was part indoors but mostly an outdoor gym. There were trees, vines, and plant life everywhere, as natural as the Grove and even wilder-looking with it nestled right between more traditional city buildings. As if Calliope had tried to cram the same amount of nature The Grove had across its territory into a much smaller space.

“Yes, I am,” he said.

She stepped around from the front desk, wearing a teal sports bra and matching leggings. Her long, pink hair was braided back tightly. “Let me show you around. We can walk and talk.”

He followed her around the maze of a gym as she pointed out supply closets and rooms or sections dedicated to specific classes and types of workout. The more high-end equipment was kept indoors, but most of the gym relied on less technology/based forms of exercise. Sparring areas, ropes and tires, weights and dance, and even an open-to-the-air yoga studio on the roof.

“We’re open rain or shine,” she said. “Working out in the rain is a different experience, and something we’re known for. Staying connected with nature is our M.O. It’s what sets up apart, but more importantly--”

He nodded. “The Wildmother.”

“Right. Caduceus said you knew a little about Her.”

“I’m learning,” was all he said for a moment. Then he added a quiet, “Hoping to learn more.”

She looked at him. “Well, this is a good place to learn. The Clays, we worship Her in different ways these days. You’ve seen how Caduceus does it, but now you can see how someone actually cool does.”

Fjord smiled at her sibling jab. “I’ve enjoyed learning from Caduceus.”

“Yeah, he’s just weird,” she said with a shrug. “And getting weirder. But what I really need from you is to man the desk. We have our hours, but I don’t really care who works when so long as someone is there. You need to get with Reani, our current receptionist, to figure out the schedule. I’ve got a few instructors too, to help cover the desk sometimes. Not feasible just for two students, so they can fill in some gaps. Reani knows the drill.”

“Are you offering me the job?” he asked.

She led him back to the front desk, where he made note of who he assumed to be Reani. The young woman smiled at him, but was busy on the phone.

Calliope shifted around the desk for a moment, then found a scrawled list. “Okay, here’s the pay and our perks. We got some good deals through a family friend, but also my dad’s a general physician at a little clinic outside of town, so if you go to him he’ll see you for cheap.”

“Okay,” said Fjord, overwhelmed as he looked at the handwritten list.

“You can take classes here or exercise for free when you’re not working. I don’t care as long as you don’t damage anything. You gotta respect the Wildmother, but you don’t have to worship Her. Just don’t be an ass about it. Let me know if you have questions. I need to fill the spot sooner than later, so if you can let me know by Tuesday, that works.”

“Yes, of course,” he said. She turned slightly away, a clear indication she was done. He said one last, “Thank you for your time,” before he went back into the street.

Looking at the time, he saw it was only just now hitting the afternoon. He had some schoolwork to manage, so he decided to test out just how far the nearest library was.

After finishing up his work and mapping out the routes he’d need to take from the gym to various classes, Fjord packed up and headed home. As he walked back towards the Xhorhaus, he felt a bubble of excitement well up inside him. He got to make his own schedule, to a degree. The gym itself seemed nice, if a weird concept. The job couldn’t be harder than the cafe, and he could use it for free.

Plus, benefits. He glanced at the notes again. It looked pretty basic, but it was something.

His eye was drawn back to the pay. He’d done some research on the walk over to see what receptionists were paid for part time work in the area. He’d been certain not to expect even that much, as it was a good amount over his minimum wage rates at the cafe - no tips. But here, he’d make substantially more than at the cafe, and right within the range of what seemed fair for the area.

It was too good to be true, right? This whole day had to be a dream. He would wake up any minute in his bed at The Champions’ house, and none of this would be real. Or he’d do something stupid and wreck the whole thing.

Today was supposed to be his last day in the Xhorhaus. And as certain as he was that this whole thing was about to slip through his fingers, he held on anyway.

And if he was going to hold on, he needed to talk to Caduceus.

On the way back, he wondered how best to handle severing ties with The Champions. The mature thing, it seemed, was to tell them face to face. Or at least text Avantika since he'd been booted from the group chat.

But he didn't want to talk to them ever again. Especially not Avantika. She was manipulative and calculating, and he wasn't sure how well he would stand against her. He’d told her the day Beau brought him to the Xhorhaus that he’d be back Sunday. Today. She’d be calling sooner than later. He had to do something.

The idea of talking to any of them even through text was too much. He took the coward's way out maybe, but he blocked every number from The Champion he had. Blocked their social media, their numbers, their emails. No contact. Hopefully.

It felt like freedom, but freedom tinged in anxiety. Still, there was a skip in his step as he bound up the porch steps into the house.

“Caduceus!” he called as he stepped inside.

“Fjord!” came a shout from the kitchen, matching his energetic tone.

Fjord let the door fall closed behind him and headed for the kitchen. As he pulled back the curtain, he was hit by a wave of warmth and mixed scents. He caught the smell of baking bread in there and took a deep breath.

“What are you doing?” Fjord asked, almost laughing at the sight before him.

Caduceus had every possible surface in the kitchen covered in plates, cutting boards, mixing bowls, and piles of ingredients - prepped and not. He stood before the stove. There were several pots pans before him, each actively cooking. His apron had turned a dusty purple from the layer of flour that coated it in splotches. He’d taken off his nice robe and rolled up his sleeves past the elbows. He twisted to smile at Fjord, eyes alight and a strike of flour across his cheek.

“Hullo Fjord,” he said, perhaps the cheeriest Fjord had seen him yet.

“Are we expecting an army?” Fjord asked, stepping further into the kitchen.

Caduceus laughed. “Watch this pot for me, will you?”

Fjord took his place at the stove, slowly stirring at some kind of soup. Caduceus wrapped the handle of a copper pan in a small towel and lifted it away, flicking off that burner with his free hand. The thick, pale sauce within it looked to contain some tomatoes and was speckled with spices and herbs. Caduceus poured it over a pair of tupperwares containing rice and what looked like meat, but was probably tofu.

Fjord saw an assembly line of other containers, pairs of matched meals in mismatched tupperware left open for their final touches. A few laid empty, waiting to be filled in kind.

Caduceus set the pan back on the off stove, sealing those completed meals and stacking them on top of each other. He turned and set them on another counter beside another set of sealed meals.

“What are you doing?” Fjord asked. “Meal prep for a month?”

Caduceus grinned at him, taking back his place at the stove. Fjord stepped aside, about to step back completely before Caduceus offered him a spoon holding some of the soup he’d been stirring.

“What do you think?”

Fjord accepted the spoon and took a cautious sip. Hot, of course, but clearly Caduceus’s take on a tomato soup. “It’s amazing!”

“Good, good,” Caduceus said. “I can never get it quite like Auntie makes it, but this should suffice.”

“For what, exactly?” Fjord asked for the third time.

“Here, hold this.”

Any attempts at discerning what Caduceus was doing were sidestepped with a cheery determination. Resigned, Fjord helped him finish what was easily two week’s worth of meals. Then, Caduceus wrote out dates on little sticky notes, firmly taping them to each container.

When he was done, all the meals were neatly stacked and clumped together, labeled, and the sink was overrun was dishes.

“Need to clean up,” Caduceus said to himself.

“I’ll help you if you tell me what this is all for,” Fjord said.

Caduceus finally faced him. “I’m not going to send you off without a few decent meals.”

“A few--” Fjord’s mind caught up with his mouth, and he said, “This is for me?”

“If you’re going back to that awful house, then I’m going to make sure you live another few weeks, at least,” Caduceus said firmly. “You were so gaunt and thin when you got here that you could have been part of the Clays, but a few good meals and you were a different man! So you’ll take this, and tell all your terrible friends that it’s completely vegan so they won’t touch it, and you’ll be okay until you get settled in a new job, I hope.”

Fjord’s stomach sank. Caduceus hadn’t been there when he told the group he wanted to stay. He’d gone and done all this work, cheerful as anything, to send him off. He seemed happy about it.

“This is...so thoughtful of you,” Fjord managed.

Caduceus, smiling proudly at his work, lost that smile. “Fjord? Is something wrong? I know you’d probably like more than vegan food, but I was afraid I’d only give you food poisoning if I tried to cook meat. I’m not saying you can’t eat it - it’s perfectly natural, but I’ve made sure to include a lot of protein, so--”

“No, it’s perfect, Caduceus,” Fjord said. “But, ah, thank you for the clarification on the meat thing. I hadn’t thought to ask yet if that was a tenant of the Wildmother.”

“We don’t really eat meat or dairy, the Clays that is. But She doesn’t have any issue with it, that I’m aware of. Animals eat animals. It’s just how we were raised. Calliope tried it once, got awful sick from it. Said it felt like eating leather.”

“I imagine it would,” Fjord said with a little laugh.

“If that’s not the issue then, what is?” Caduceus asked kindly. Fjord should have known better than to think he’d effectively distracted him.

He tried to gather his thoughts, but nothing seemed to connect. “I was hoping to talk to you…”

The front door opened. With all the cooking fans off, they could just hear it. Both men glanced towards the curtain instinctively. Silence. No one in the Nein entered that quietly.

Fjord took a step towards the entry room, but Caduceus stopped him by putting out a hand. His brows furrowed as he stared at the curtain. Without looking from that point, he shifted his head towards Fjord and put a finger to his lips. Quiet.

“Check upstairs for ‘im,” said a deep, male voice.

His heart began to race. Fjord knew this man. To Caduceus he mouthed, “Champion”. Caduceus nodded, and his face set into a darkened expression.

Someone headed up the stairs. Just one person, from the sound of it. A second, the speaker, began sifting about the entry room. Every step he took closer to the kitchen ramped up Fjord’s heartbeat until he was certain it was audible.

Why were they here?

No, that was obvious. It had to do with him. He’d been foolish to think he could block some numbers and be free. Even if he hadn’t taken the final step with The Champions, he belonged to them.

Leaving wasn’t an option. And now Caduceus was in danger.

[channiekyun]

flowering//wanna one//daehwi

pairing: lee daehwi/reader genres: pure fluff, bullet point, high school au word count: 1344 summary: ‘chance happens when someone walks into a room when the other person doesn’t expect it. in this case, he walked into an empty classroom, late to the gardening club.’ a/n: i debated on jihoon or daehwi but settled on daehwi bc I feel like this fit better. and this is so SLOPPy im sorry it's been months since I wrote

mind you, but I actually lovity LOVE wanna one’s maknae line sO MUCH

like actual unappreciated talent if i’m being real honest here

have I ever said that before

no?well shit boi here u go

you were pres of the gardening club

gardening? why you ask?

plants are the only things that you can’t kill

your math grades? dead

that souffle you tried to make? dead 

your friends? well, you see, not dead but they’re the ones trying to make sure you don’t die

people say it’s a gift, but you know they only say that bc you rlly don't have a gift

you were known around your high school as a flower girl for 2 reasons: 1) your charm +  2) your actual love for flowers and plants 

but also you were known as

wait for it,,

a freak of for nature

you were asked out more than often

and maybe too much for your liking??

like;; you would be walking and this guy would pop out of this fckn plant pot holding some flowers or somethin

like fite me m8, that’s the sixth time that’s happened this week

to top this off you were pres for the gardening club which seemed to hold more members each week, and every single time when the club meeting ended and you cleaned up there was always someone waiting to confess 

and you would lose it

but you’re kinda an asshole at the same time and “if you clean up I’ll consider it”

*evil laughter*

you’re kinda an asshole

this type of arrangement would go on for weeks until it got routine

and you got tired of it

so at the meeting, you came up to the front of the classroom filled with guys with pots of flowers 

“listen up u little shits I know most of you aren’t interested in actual plants and just me. So I’ll give you all this challenge: if you can keep these flowers without killing them, I’ll give you a chance. If the flowers die in a month, you’re out”

they can’t complain, and they wouldn’t anyway

and so you pass the plants out and you’re left to clean up by yourself again

and you’re putting some of the pots back until you felt a tap on your shoulder

you turn around and see him

woah***~

someone pls collect their boy bc if they aren’t I will

and you feel all weird and awkward for not knowing him so you just act all cold 

“Are you here to confess to me too? Because if you are, just leave please.”

and you suddenly feel all shitty saying that to him like whyyy did I do that

“Um, no. I’m asking for applications for the gardening club and I was told you were president for it.”

dammit. he also seems sweet????

‘...’

‘....;;;’

“Are you any good at gardening by chance?” you asked quizzingly

he scratched his head

“Well yeah. why else would I join the gardening club?” 

“No reason, no reason” you shook your hands

wow, someone who has some actual interest?

what a new species I discovered

“Okay, you’re hired!” you smiled at the boy. “actually, I gave an assignment to all members! you are guaranteed a stay in this club if you can keep this plant from dying!” 

*you say as you shove a flower in a pot into his hands*

“Woah, isn’t this a gardenia?” his eyes as wide as the moon

and you’re shooken off your feet

“It’s good that you know what a gardenia is. Everyone else called it a white rose.”

“What? Really? I would’ve jumped out of a window if someone called it that.”

You shared some good laughs and he even helped clean.

Apparently, his name was Lee Daehwi and his mom owned the flower shop nearby with the pretty display windows

Yeah, Daehwi set them up every morning before school

how dedicated is he???? i’m curious

You and Daehwi met up after school for the rest of the month just because

But sometimes he would just have to wait for you because a bunch of people were asking for another chance with the plants

And Daewhi would always just stand at the back while you sat at the front desk

You mouthing to him “I’m sorry” and him mouthing back “It’s fine, I can wait” is such a scene omg

Lee Daehwi is legit perfection okay

like you’re still shooken off your feet 

You would come over to the flower shop and sleepover at his house which wasn’t rlly far

Because you slept over, you had to follow daehwi to the flower shop at like 6 in the morning to set up the display window

mind you, but daewhi skipped the ENTIRE way from his house to the shop

whatta man whatta boy

You got introduced to ‘sassy LA boy daehwi™’ that morning 

like just imagine: Hearing like stomping out of nowhere and ignoring it but it was actually daehwi stomping up behind you. You really didn’t expect him to do anything but he snatched the flowers out of your hands. 

“nO No NO. (Y/N) THOSE FLOWERS DON’T LOOK AESTHETICALLY PLEASING OR GO WITH THE THEME.” ((in his friggin accent you know what accent))

“THERE WAS A THEME??!??”

what a scene eh?

sometimes you would check up on his gardenia flower which was in his room just to make sure it wasn’t going to die

and Daehwi didn’t know about this so...

sure, this may be considered cheating but you told yourself if anyone had a chance with you already it was Daehwi

a month passed and it was a Monday, there was a meeting today

you sat at the front of the room, waiting for members to come flowing through the door

but no one came

‘wait, did everyone’s plant just die or what?’ 

that thought spun through your head as you waited

You were getting ready to leave and the door opened,

to Daewhi panting

and he suddenly got confused bc it was only you and him in the room

“Am I that late for the meeting? I’m so sorry (Y/N), I had to make up a test for math and you know how much I hate maths.”

You laughed, “Yeah, it took you awhile to find the square root of 4.”

“Shut up, I even brought the gardenia here.” He showed you the gardenia

You sighed, “You’re the only one who kept it alive.”

“Wait, what?” (((that part in boomerang when he says that is my anthem now)))

And you began to explain, excluding the part that the people who keep it alive had a chance with you

“So we’re the only people in the club now?” he asked

“Everyone else’s plants died, so I guess we are.”

“Does that also mean I have a chance with you?”

and you were all like: ?????????huh??

“So you knew?”

“I heard when some of the boys in the hall talk about it, but I only heard it last week. I took better care of it this week so..” Daehwi trailed off, a light pink dust growing on his face

you found a new side of Daehwi, and it was cute

also, he just happened to confess by saying he took better care of it when he heard what the assignment was rlly for so

“Wanna go out for coffee?” He ended up asking in his scramble of words

“No, I just want to sleep over tonight.”

And, yes, you ended up sleeping over

And in the morning, you had coffee while fixing the flower shop’s display case

And this time you got to choose the theme

and you guys just had a grand ol’ time 

aw

isn’t that cute

this love was like a garden

it has never stopped flowering, just like you guys

SMALL ENDNOTES: **gardenias are actually pretty hard to maintain ****gardenias in flower language mean purity and love (aw)

[redgillan]

Rotten Judgement - part 4

AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Hercules!AU After selling your soul to save your lover’s life, you become one of the Lord of the Underworld’s slave. Bucky is obsessed with one thing: collecting hearts. But why?

Word Count:1,877

Warnings: -

A/N: I died three times while writing this. I dedicate this one to the sun, kindly f*ck off. I hope you like this one, some fun stuff coming soon :)

Rotten Judgement - Masterpage

You and Steve walked hand in hand down the street, enjoying the cool breeze. You knew you had angered Bucky, but you didn’t care. You would deal with him and his silly pride later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy your time with Steve. He was charming and, quite literally, perfect.

“I’ve got a friend who wants to meet you,” Steve said.

“You told your friends about me?” A slight blush crept up his cheeks, making you chuckle. “Relax, Cap. I’d love to meet your friends.”

He gave you the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen. It made your stomach do a pleasant flip. You felt your face heat and bashfully lowered your eyes.

It’s too cliché, you thought. Get a grip, girl!

You raised your head when you reached a restaurant. It wasn’t just any old restaurant; it was SHIELD. People queued outside for hours to get a table. You skipped the line and went straight to the bouncer. Steve held the door open and motioned you inside.

You stepped into a room so large that it didn’t seem that crowded. The restaurant had black mahogany tables and oak chairs with plush dark purple cushioned seats. The owner, a blond man in his late sixties, stood behind the bar, staring into space.

Alexander Pierce.

You recognized him easily, everybody in town had heard of him. Pierce had given up a lucrative career as a financier to open a restaurant with his associate, Nick Fury. Their restaurant became the hottest spot in town and they became even richer.

“You alright?” Steve asked him as you approached.

Pierce closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Lost a friend last night,” he said, a sad smile on his lips.

Steve touched his upper arm, offering comfort. “I’m really sorry.”

“Life’s full of surprises, huh?” Pierce said before he turned his attention to you. “Steve has told us so many good things about you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you replied, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling sweetly. “Please, make yourself at home.”

You let Steve lead the way. The thick, dark purple curtains were all that separated the VIP section from the rest of the restaurant. The room felt more intimate than the main room. In the back, there were two pool tables and a dart board. You noticed that all the darts formed a circle in the centre of the board.

A waiter brought a bottle of red wine and poured a small amount in Steve’s glass. When Steve said it was good, the waiter poured the red liquid in two glasses.

“It’s delicious,” you said, licking your upper lip.

“They have some really good wine,” Steve agreed.

You set your glass down on the table. “Pierce seems like a nice person.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, I’m worried about him though. His associate died a few weeks ago, he had a heart attack. Nick was his best friend. It really took its toll on him.”

“Two friends in a month? He must be devastated.” Your heart ached for the man. “How did you meet him?”

Steve shifted in his seat, a half smile curling one corner of his lips. You cocked a brow at him as you took another sip of wine.

“That’s why we’re here. I have something to tell you.” He waited until you nodded before continuing. “I’m not an ordinary man.”

He raised his hand, the long claw marks left by Nat were gone. You reached out and took his hand, examining it closely.

“How-”

“Told you, I heal fast.”

“But it happened two hours ago.” You raised your gaze in challenge and looked him straight in the eye. “What are you?”

His smile faded and his face fell serious. “I’m a demigod.”

Steve released a long sigh that seemed to deflate his entire body. He wasn’t good at keeping secret and now that you knew the truth about him, he felt like he could breathe again. Your gaze softened and you squeezed his hand.

“I knew you were special.”

“Y-You’re okay with this?” He tilted his head, looking like a lost puppy.

“If that’s who you are,” you shrugged, “who am I to judge you?”

“You’re something else.”

He looked at you in awe and you couldn’t but smile. You cleared your throat. “So, how did you meet Pierce?”

“He’s my guardian angel,” Steve said, still holding your hand. “And I mean that in the most literal sense of the word. Nick was one too, but they were completely different. Pierce can be too obliging and Nick was kind of hot-tempered. They were a great team, we were lucky to have them.”

You opened your mouth to ask a question when two men entered the VIP room. Steve looked over his shoulder and smiled at his friends. You straightened up in your seat as you observed them.

The man with an uncorrected gap between his front teeth looked up at you and nodded. You remembered him, Bucky had warned you about Sam. He walked over to you and held out his hand.

“Sam Wilson, trainer of heroes,” he said before he gestured at the man with blue Mohawk, “and that’s Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he shook your hand. You suppressed the urge to fidget under Sam’s stare. He looked at you intently, seemingly waging a silent debate with himself.

“You’re the one who kicked Rumlow in the nuts, right?” Clint smirked when you nodded. He took Steve’s chair and turned it around before he sat down. “Good job, Nutcracker.”

Sam took the seat next to him as Steve rounded the table and slid into the chair beside you. He took your hand in his under the table so that nobody could see and looked sideways at you.

“Have you ever considered becoming a hero?” Sam asked. “I could train you.”

You looked up at him, expecting him to laugh. He didn’t.

“Me? I’m no hero.”

“When I met Steve, he was as skinny as a broomstick. Look at him now.” Sam jutted his chin toward Steve who rolled his eyes. “You’re brave and bold. We could use someone like you. Our new mission requires a bit more finesse and we’re...”

“-big guys,” Clint finished.

“Wait!” you said, frowning. “If Steve’s a demigod and Pierce is a guardian angel, what are you?”

Sam and Clint exchanged an amused look before they leaned over the table toward you. Instinctively, you sank further into your seat. Steve gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m a Phoenix,” Sam said, cracking a smile, “and believe me, it comes in handy when your job is to train amateur heroes.”

You heard Steve mumbling something under his breath. Sam gave you a wink as he sat back in his seat. You turned your head to face Clint.

“If you laugh, I’ll kill you,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be a baby, Clint.” Sam grinned.

You knew it was an empty threat, but you still raised your free hand like you were taking an oath. From the corner of you eye, you could see Steve covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. Clint kicked his shin under the table.

“I’m a Cupid, the Messenger of Love.”

Sam and Steve bit their lips like they were trying not to laugh before they burst out laughing. Hysterical laughter filled the room and you chuckled quietly. It felt good to laugh again.

“And no I’m not one of those chubby, naked babies. But I do have arrows and they’re very sharp,” he warned, glaring at his friends.

“Okay, baby,” Sam chuckled before his face turned serious again. “Now, like I said, we need a new member. Our enemy is a very powerful man.”

“He’s a God,” Steve chimed in, “and he’s as clever as he’s dangerous.”

You were sure Bucky would love the way they described him. The man had an ego the size of his kingdom. You listened carefully to Sam’s story.

During the battle for Olympus, Sam worked closely with the Gods. Their most ferocious enemy was the Lernaean Hydra; for every head chopped off, two more grew in its place. Unfortunately, the Hydra captured Bucky and turned him into a weapon to kill the Gods.

When Sam found him, it was too late. The other Gods said that for their own security they were obliged to lock him up. After the war, they freed his mind and gave him the Underworld –mostly because no one wanted to be locked in a cave for all eternity. They argued that he would never be the same again.

The Hydra tortured his body and his soul. He was a victim, but it didn’t change the fact that he made you do unspeakable things. Your heart constricted painfully, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“He has a group of demons stealing hearts for him,” Sam concluded, unaware that you were one of Bucky’s minions. “We have to free them, but we can’t do anything until we find the Underworld. Are you with us?”

This was your chance to make things right, to speak up and betray the man you sold your life to. You swallowed hard, your stomach churned, as you silently made your choice.

 “I will kill him,” Bucky shouted at the empty courtroom as he walked over to his throne. “No, better yet, I’ll make her rip his heart out of his chest and crush it.”

“Yikes,” Nat muttered.

She trailed after him, her face twisted in a grimace of disgust. Bucky sat on his throne, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm on the ground.

“You’ve acted like a jerk and you’re still acting like a jerk.”

“Watch your tongue,” Bucky hissed through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. If you could just talk to her-”Nat stopped talking as the ground trembled under her feet. “Never mind, I forgot you had a cold cold heart.”

She pretended to zip her mouth shut when he gave her another dirty look. After a short moment of silence, Natasha started humming the tune to Tony Bennett’s Cold Cold Heart. Bucky was about to lose his temper again, when he heard Wanda’s frantic footsteps.

“So?” he asked, unable to contain himself any longer. “Did you see them?”

Wanda came to a halt next to Nat. She bent at the waist and rested her hands on her knees as she worked to catch her breath. Bucky took a deep breath, trying not to show his impatience.

“I saw her and Captain America. He took her to SHIELD,” Wanda said, her brows furrowed in worry. “She met Pierce.”

Bucky stared at his metal hand, hiding his emotions from his servants. Anger coursed through him like poison, quickly followed by fear. Nat and Wanda observed him, their hearts pounding.

“What are you going to do?”

“That will be all,” he sighed, dismissing the Furies with a wave of his hand.

The Furies exchanged panicked glances, they knew exactly what he had in mind.

“No, please, my Lord,” Nat begged. “Don’t do it, I like her.”

“My decision is final,” he replied, avoiding their pleading eyes. “Now leave.”

Part 5